Dancing in Mourning
Los Danzantes | Chris McCann
Musée Magazine embraces the wonderful hope that every picture stimulates an interpretation. This column is our tip of the hat to that concept, with a fictionalized text we’ve written to accompany a selected photograph.
Written by: Emma Mathes
Our instructor, who was usually our toughest and most inflexible critic, watched me walk into class out of dress code and said nothing. I’d missed the last eight classes; I suppose she accepted the miracle without argument.
I felt my classmates move around me in synchronized rhythm, but I swayed with my heart. I had needed this after a month of nothing but bed rot and lazy muscles, but wasn’t quite ready for the patterns.
Once I found my footing, my eyes stayed close for fear of losing my senses. I whirled and moved without forgetting for a second what was now forever missing.
