Dance is the physical expression of emotion
Or not. Can a skeleton dance? Or a rock? Does ‘dance’ really have to be the action of a sentient being? Too much for me so I just bimble along the street with my camera, and en passant caught this—
—which has to be viewed large to appreciate. First let me set the scene:
I’ve been fighting my all-singing all-dancing modern camera for many months. My first Olympus was an OM2n, handraulic with (for the time) all sorts of electronic wizardry. But inside every OM2 lurked an OM1 and a simple flip of a switch enabled either. God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world etc etc and I was one happy puppy. So?
My new camera can even fry a breakfast omelette and/or wash the windows whilst simultaneously whistling ‘Dixie’. All well and good, but I just do not have enough years left in which to figure endless menus, sub-menus, sub-sub-sub (etc etc until day and night shall come to an end) sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-sub menus (you want definition of the ‘nth degree? Buy one of these—you got it, in your hands).
Oops … back to ‘dance’ and the rhetorical “can a skeleton dance?” … of course skeletons, rocks, tin suits (and even Southlanders) can dance. All is motion, the physicists tell us, so we got it covered.
Oh, yes—enough rambling and on with the show: it was getting dark and I was hoofing the local town on my way to the graveyard. Nope—nothing spooky or maudlin, I just find that marble angels make ideal photographic models (and not once have I been presented with a bill). Passing, I saw the tin suit in the window and shot it. The exposure cleverly made night into day but I got the armour I was enamoured with whilst unconsciously thanking the gods of Olympus for so superb a stabiliser.
MY GRAVEYARD SHOTS?
Don’t ask. I have no idea how to get this blasted camera to focus on poorly lit distant objects, so star shots and such stuff are serendipity; and as for my angels—
—none of ’em turned out. In fact, this X was the best of a poor bunch (and I was actually aiming for the moon) …
HEREWITH BE A DANCING ANGEL
Taken by daylight. Ages ago. So with a near-full moon directly behind me illuminating this bunch of rocks … how hard should it be?
But do not worry, I will bone up some more on the books/webbies/Utoob etc etc; and when totally confused go back and try again.
A final question before I let you go—
—why are angels always slightly ambiguous? Given that this poor thing has suffered a wee bit of vandalistic attention in the past I’m still not sure if he’s quite pretty or she’s a bit rugby-forwardish. I leave it to the more knowledgeable—but I think it’s a work of art, either way.
To misuse Verne:
- mobilis in mobile
- immobilis in mobile
- immobilis in immobile
—and to get a wee bit philosophical (this confounds the religious, the scientific; gods and laxities alike: immobilis in immoble is my vote.
Don’t be. The way I see it, absolutely nothing (r) nothing in the universe moves. Ergo: ‘dance’ is impossible …
Don’t wait, call now, the lines are open and this operator’s champing at the bit ready to respond.
TAURUS EXCRETA CONFOUNDEM CEREBELLUM