A shattered mind in a broken body fighting for survival

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Fleeting Freedom


"Fleeting Freedom"




A flurry footsteps echoed across the polished tiles. Forward, back, a spin and a flourish. The drums beat the rhythm as the musicians played the well-known tune. Step. Step. Step. Beat, beat, beat. Hearts thumped in time with the leather-clad instruments. Candles flickered and cast shadows across the walls of marble. The melody wound down; the dancers slowed their steps, final spins bringing women and men together. Their hands raised in applause. Those too tired to continue left a vacant hole in the middle of the crowd, but it was soon filled by others, new to the party. The vocalist called the start of their next piece and, with a count of three, struck her tambourine. Ladies in elegant gowns and gentlemen in fine suits formed lines across from one another. A strike on the tambourine. Masculine hands were extended beyond the dividing line. A jingle of bells. With feminine grace, the hands opposite reached towards their counterparts. A drum beat and another shake of the singer’s instrument. The couples spun together, and the dance was begun again. 


Sometimes, I just wish to dance. I was unable to determine who painted this picture. I also don't know the title. I even copied the image into Google Image search. All I got was that it was a modern painting and on sale. I am going to call it "Fleeting Freedom". The woman is barefoot and that makes me think of someone who is fleet of foot. Nimble, quick, and graceful. Grace brings a measure of freedom. I danced with a barefoot woman once, in an art museum. I wonder if she remembers.

Live life like a dancer. Full of passion and light on your feet. 
~The Piebald Penguin

3 comments:

Emma Anne said...

Jack Vettriano. I own a print of it. :)

Unknown said...

Your best post yet. I dig it, keep on writing.

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