A chaos that creates a rhythm.

A corner. A little corner. As little as something that implodes as it explodes.

A space that extends as you walk in.

One step in, two steps to the left.

Black and white, black and white.

A movement that emerges from the tip of the toes.

An impulse as raw as breathing. 

Left, right. Left, right.

One common ground.

Do you hear it?

Something sort of uncanny that is nothing other than the real in its unsharibility. 

The intangible real. 

The inside and the outside.

That liminal space where light feels heavy, where distance feels intimate, where the unfamiliar feels familiar. 

Are you here?

This freedom that moves through stillness.

This presence that only exists, here and now.

A catharsis. The chaos that creates a rhythm.