These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume.
-William Shakespeare,Romeo and Juliet
Dionysus was never out of our flesh and bones, even under the brightest sun shine, this irresistible longing for self-destructive euphoria.The establishment of self-identity always comes with the feeling of isolation, when I know I am myself, then I will know, the rest of the world is the other, or it is the other way around, we can say it is exactly by kicking out the part we think is not “me”, by defining the other, we started to build out this boundary of self identity.
How do we solve this?
By destroying “ourselves”, in the act and scene which can make you forget who you are, we unite with the whole world, with other people again.Forget who I am, forget how is beneficial for “me”.
That’s how these pictures of dance attracted me, I saw those indistinct shapes that my eyes can not find one spot to focus, then the line between reality and delusion started becoming blurred. I looked at these pictures in right in front of me, but strangely enough, I can only see the images once appeared in my dreams. A tide of emotion rose and clouded my rational judgment, I’d rather give up analyzing the process of my captivation and enrapturement for this moment of pure extasy.
What can we really capture by photography? All the story happening in the moment, the mixed fluid emotions, can we really pass these to the viewer of our book? How much can we really even understand ourselves, and then not losing in the process of passing? I think this book is giving me the answer for these questions in a metaphoric way.
Book info? Pina Bausch 791.4