Bewegung

My junior high hands and arms awkwardly wrapped around some girl whose name ended in three vowels as we slow danced to Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues was probably when I hung up my dancing shoes. Although my dancing days are over, I still appreciate photographing and watching it. This was for a preview story on a alumni performance at Ririe Woodbury here in Salt Lake. Movement seems like the most basic and ancient art form there is.