I live to dance.  Should there be any other cause or reason for my existence I am fully unaware of it, because the only thing that has moved me to life, that has inspired me to live, is the music that moves me.  It speaks to me, and I understand its every word.  Beyond reason, it is a certain insanity in the simplicity of being able to know the music as the gift of every note comes to me as its vivid translator.  For this purpose, my body moves in the complement synchronic order that is a certain spellbinding momentum that my mind cannot even see to explain.  It is more than a feeling, it is a state of mind by which the music becomes me, and my body tells the story of its sounding rhythm, for the wavelengths move through me, and I become the radio transmission at its own frequency.  I give myself to the dance and to the music, faithfully I submit everything that I am and never doubt nor question its love for me.  The music tells me all of its secrets, and they live through the darkness of my dwelling; this sacred flesh becomes the canvas as portrait for the painting muse.  I know no other way, for it is the only thing to inspire me enough, the music.  I see the images in my waking dreams as the music sings its song, and I pour out my heart in dance, as I attempt to share with you this vision of some truth that only the expressions of my form know to tell.  I dance because there are no words.  I dance to give all my secrets a way.