My mirrored self reflects my imperfect technique, out of body, yet trapped in my
own gaze. I feel myself flexing and pushing all of muscles into the floor. I sense
the sweat glistening down my forehead as I drown myself in hard work. I listen to
the music, the beats, and the counts as they guide me into perfection. In letting go
of judgment, the dance begins, the pushing ends. I transfer my soul and emotions
into an inner dimension. I give off light. I allow my art to rise to the surface of me,
making less mind and more heart.