Sunday, September 3, 2017

The Heart of Danceness

The Writer's Surrender
You know how in the movie Apocalypse Now, shit gets weirder and weirder the deeper that Williard goes upriver to seek out Colonel Kurtz?

Sometimes, I feel like that as I travel deeper and deeper into the meta-community of Second Life dance performance.

The people you come across… the performances… the venues… stranger and stranger… and pretty soon, you find that you’re a stranger to yourself.

Who am I?
What the hell am I doing here?
Why am I doing this?

The stories people tell you, the history and the dynamics and the drama.

I’ve said this before, but will say it again…

The Law of Triangles:
A likes B
B likes C
A hates the shit out of C

Sometimes, you’re A. Or B. Or C.

Accept that as law. Deal with it.

So, there’s a history there. Some folks were here or there, set out on their own or banded together with others. Groups come and go, some endure. They rise and fall over time.

Some of the classics are on YouTube, others are captured in photos in ancient Flickr albums, maybe a routine here or a promo poster there.

I can imagine an old avatars rest home, folks looking back at their digital careers, remembering when. Or a museum, their performances available in holography.

Will there be dance in Sansar? Will there be anything there, really?

What will remain, or do we only leave our footprints in the wet sand, erased in time?

The boat is coming up on the shore, and the natives are all out to watch us as we pull in.