"Yerma" Trailer
There is a brief period, a pause if you will, between being soaked by rain and being drenched in one's own sweat as you dance in a storm. It is there that you realise that the heat of one's own body, and the bodies of others in the vicinity, begins to be an insulator for the body without and within the skin. The integument. Waterproof by nature, only to be greatly aided by an increase in the temperature of the self relative to the environment. We do not thirst. We have all the moisture we need for many moments to come. We are unafraid of the outcome of the night, because it will end at an apex for everyone. It is the dawn of the new day that will bring about a gradient in a sense, but we do not think of the future. There is the present and the moments now are the only moments that we live by. These moments are what matter.
And the dance will catch fire...
It is in our nature to burn like the sun, yet we ourselves are not burned, though are faces do become flush with the tinge of fire's hue. We are our own suns, brightly illuminating each self world that we create, and creating the heat that kindles our souls. And through our self-generation, there is regeneration and through regeneration there are future generations. Generation of generations. It is the fire with which we radiate that touches our neighbours first. Convection, travelling through the currents of air that serves as a transport for the heat that we wish to give but we are not within reach. How our neighbour responds will determine the nature of the action and reaction of bodies in space. We all form the constellation of generous welcome. Where five or more are gathered in one locale in the name of merry meeting, it is this circle that serves best to see the faces of the friendly. Spinning, swirling, like madness but with all senses intact - heightened even in a state of hypersensitivity.
And the dance will catch fire...
Now we are in a state of greatest heat. Estrus. No longer human. A letting go of the mind. We are as base as the animals in our needs for the bodies to come together, clasped, enmeshed. Rain will tumble from the gaping mouths of clouds but will have no effect on the bodies lying below because they are covered and surrounded by heat. Where we are the heat is greater than the rain that is pitiful in its attempt to cool us. It is not hell but a Paradise. Hell is a loneliness that is cold, so it must be that the heat is the life of the everlasting. Heat is forever. The Devil is here, but only because he prowls about the world seeking the heat that he so misses. During the day the sun may even show its face while the rain rears a diluvial fate upon us- the Devil and his Wife are having an argument, some say. At night we shall dance and prance entranced. We shall not tire. Sweat shields the deluge by creating its own, and bodies cover bodies in its own form of protection. Companionship, fleeting or sustained. Like supercharged electromagnets whose white hot opposite poles upon collision do explode in a flash of passion. Each person's flames engulfes the other yet they are not burned. They are not cleansed either, definitely not in the spiritual sense. But we are healed, this is what everyone believes. The needs of each other are met.
And the dance will catch fire...
