Sad Dancer is an ancient soul. In this life she was born in a family without memories. She dances slowly in circles searching for a language, a voice, a belonging. Evoking lost memories and longings. The strange boy with wrinkles in his face. The man who can not die, can they still save us? The gypsie wagon and the girl with the brides, is she dreaming our lost memories?
Sad Dancer senses our ancestors in her body, an endless nocturnal caravan of women. She feels their movements, their smells their dreams. For how long?
She feels alive at the cemetery. Where do you find your your sacred space?
The urn is the hole of the universe, the portal to emptiness. It has to remain empty, it is the only way we can save what we lost. The itinerant life is over, Sad Dancer must stay and protect it from being filled.
A voice cries out loud and clear. It´s a human voice. Strong, beautiful and universally unique. You might recall the deep agony of giving birth. And the joy of that cry symbolizing that new life is present. I have experienced two new human beings being born in the past month.…