Dance of Creation

June 9, 2008
By Raymond Lantz, Henderson, NV

The woman burst from the painting, her ruby gown flying after her, her scarlet heels clicking on the tiled floor of the museum. Following the woman, guided by her hand, a man in a dark creased suit stepped through the painting. Replacing his top hat, he grabbed the woman by the waist and pulled her to him and, placing one hand in hers’ and the other on her back, led the two of them into a dance. Through the exhibits they spun and twirled, laughing and kissing in each other’s arms. They danced out of the room in which their painting resided just as their butler began to pull himself through the painting. The butler’s feet finally on firm ground, he patted out the creases in his suit and reached back to help the maid through the opening. With help from the butler she was able to pull herself from the painting with minimal difficulty. The butler offered his arm to the maid and the two began to follow the giggles being issued from the dancing couple as they echoed throughout the museum. Reaching the entry hall they found the couple dancing in the middle of the room, the maid and butler sat on a nearby stone bench and watched happily as their masters danced and flirted.

From a painting near the occupied stone bench laughter could be heard. Masked Renaissance men and women resided in the painting, laughing and drinking as they watched the dancing couple from their window. One of the men began to clumsily make his way out of the painting, seeking to join in the dance. The butler pushed himself up from the bench and made his way to the painting to offer help. With his hand they were all able to get out of the painting in their drunken stupor. Laughing for no apparent reason the group, in their blaringly colored attire and masks, made their way to the center of the hall and began to throw their arms and legs, dancing a dance that had no name. Their masks never moved from their face, giving them permanent similes, and their dresses flew about, following the erratic movements of their bodies, Renaissance shirts and skirts an extension of the drunk dancers.

The salty smell of the sea filled the room and a painting across the hall began to rattle. The dancers turned their heads to this new noise, but never stopped dancing. The painting began to leak and the water flowed down unto the tiled floor, the leaking increased to a pour and then increased into a deluge. The tsunami burst from the frame, pouring itself to the ground. The water spread out covering the whole of the entry hall. The water rose to the ankles of the dancers, yet none of them stopped dancing, instead they started to kick their feet more and spray each other with water. The water began to sway and spin, it too seeking to join the dance. Miniature waves formed and crashed into one another, spraying mist everywhere. The dancers laughed, their clothes beginning to soak. The butler made his way to a nearby painting and pulled an umbrella from the frame, returning to the bench he sat down and opened it to protect the two of them from the spray.

Two more paintings rattled on the museum wall, seeking to join the dance in some way. One painting released its essence into the room, painting the museum ceiling shades of blue, black, and yellow. The starry night that had exploded forth twirled in its dance and gave the room twinkling lights that played upon the tsunami’s surface. The other painting released ivy that spread to cover the walls of the entry hall, from that ivy formed buds eager to give their contribution. The buds opened to relieved bright pink and pale blue flowers that opened and closed, casting their brilliance into the room and perfuming the old musty air with smells of love and happiness.

Skipping through the water, an Asian woman in a glowing white dress rusted into the hall dragging her dance partner by his arm, pulling his tailored suit. The young women eagerly began to dance with the others and, with some coercion her partner, joined in as well. From another entryway came an aboriginal woman carrying a small girl in her arms. The girl wore a bright white summer outfit and the woman wore a loose dress splashed with yellows and greens and from this aboriginal woman’s back large pastel wings stretching across the entire length of the hallway they walked through. She placed the little girl on the floor, took her hands, and began to spin and twirl with the girl who was laughing and smiling as she spun through the air.

Walking slowly, with all the pose in the world, a woman in a daisy-yellow dress with hair that cascaded down her shoulders in ruby curls and a man with dusty blonde hair and deep hazel eyes waded into the center of the room. These two ignored the chaos the other dancers had created as they took their positions and began to slowly waltz, looking solely into one another’s eyes. Coming from another entrance to the hall a ship sailed through the waters, the only passenger being a woman made entirely of vegetables.
As the ship sailed into the room the vegetable woman got off and waited next to the ship, looking at the dancers who had already begun. The ship began to take a vertical position and the underside showed itself to be a man. Masts with sails stuck out from his back and the ship’s bow sticking out from the back of the man’s head. Looking at each other the boat-man nodded and they joined the dance, neither laughed or smiled, but that was only because they had no mouths.

A grey skinned beast strolled into the hall, a thing that looked like a hairless feline man, on the creature’s back a teenage girl with brown hair tied in a bun and a buttercup yellow dress, who was occupied with blowing bubbles. The man-beast began to circle the dancers, watching them carefully; the girl poured her carton of bubble solution into the tsunami that still sprayed itself into the room and immediately multicolored bubbles rose from the water popping in the air making a slight ting as they popped. Nodding her head with the melody the popping bubbles made, the brown haired girl began to sing in the most mesmerizing tone, captivating the dancers, making the dances blend, making the dancers dance together. More music echoed into the hall and the sources showed themselves as a man with colorless eyes walked into the room carrying a sliver saxophone, followed by a woman strumming a harp that flew through the air on tiny gold wings, and a piano, cit into four separate pieces, walked into the hall, playing itself.

Together the music, the singing, and the dancing blended together forming a euphoric essence that seemed to breathe life into the surroundings. The maid and the butler walked this all unfold from their stone bench, basking in the life-giving dance. They turned toward on another and, leaning together, kissed, then when back to watching the dance of creation.

Art is paintings, photography, dance, singing, music. Art is the creation of whatever you want, art is anything that makes you happy. Art is life. Life is art.


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