No White Man Uses His Feet The

Ours Is An Upbeat, A Hurried, Hasty Beat. It Keeps Pressing Us To Go Farther, To Include Everything So That We Can Savor Everything, So That We Can Know Everything, So That We Will Miss Nothing. Partly It's Greed, But Mainly Its Curiosity. We Just Want To Experience It. And We Do.

To Make Up A Dance, I Still Need, As I Needed Then, A Pot Of Tea, Walking Space, Privacy And An Idea.

The Universe Lies Before You On The Floor, In The Air, In The Mysterious Bodies Of Your Dancers, In Your Mind. From This Voyage No One Returns Poor Or Weary.

We Can't Stand Silence, Because Silence Induces Thinking. And If We Thought, We Would Have To Face Ourselves.

Who Am I?, The Artist Asks. And He Devotes His Whole Life To Finding Out.