Medusa: Reflections Inspiring a Dance-Theater Work in Progress
March 24, 2015
“Blouaugh! There is no crime save the too-heavy body.”
- William Carlos Williams, “The Sea Elephant”
Medusa is the monster, the Libyan warrior queen, the too-beautiful-terror, hair snake-coiled in rage at her rape by Poseidon. She has become infamous, so powerful that any one who dares to gaze turns to stone. The sight of her dready abjection transforms villages, heroes, and teeming life all to heavy stasis. Her decapitation does not kill but immortalizes her: she becomes protectress, shield, grimace of fatal femininity. Hey!! Ho. Woah. Blouaugh. So.
Let me entertain you.
I believe petrification is a disaster for any body. And yet, what are we coming to? All too soon life is convenienced into chair-bound screen-bandaged stasis and cribbed up away from touch (see little curling fingers grasp for warm electrons and oxytosin). Who chooses love, though the love be ruthless in this AlieNation Age? Who coagulates into easier fear?
Romulus and Remus were nursed by wolves and so was I, in some past or future life, and so will I, in some lucid dream, not erect but crack through the underbelly of the city, riding a Torus and wielding Medusa’s head. And I ask you, when I do, to be fierce in your love of life. Wind it up and smooth it out every day, this precious beast-buddha body-mind. Seek out adrenaline; it is purifying. See matter as the veil of spirit. So when you see the head of the Gorgon, you will not see an abject monster, but a wild woman warrior. And you will not turn to stone but own this clear-minded wildness as your own: light of a million million suns melting the cords of things as you, stone-melter, motion-master, engage life with compassion, madness, and genius.