What is Art?

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Robin Gilmore: What is Dance?

Dance is a lifeline. Dance does not lie (there's nowhere to hide). No matter where I am or what I'm doing, that moment becomes a...

What is Dance? by Christel Stevens

Human beings dance for several reasons. The word "dance" may be defined as any rhythmic, repetitive, or expressive movement performed for its own sake,...

What is Dance? by Marcella Pinilla

Dance is when you move to a song like no one is watching. It's a response to sound that is good for you and you...

What is Dance? by P.J. Acayan

My body's ephemeral interpretation of how I perceive…..a reaction to everything real or imaginary…..that moment before the first domino falls…..the buzz after your...

What is Dance? by Michelle Ava

Dance is a visceral celebration of the mind, body and spirit in motion. Dance is an underlying pulsating breath expressed through flesh. Dance is rhythm, flow,...

What is Dance? by Jonathan Meyer

rob, Hey, just wanted to say thanks for having my words in the journal. I hope everything's going well for you. Far as this issue's...

What is Dance? by Helanius Wilkins

"What is dance?" ...The answer to this probably changes almost every day for me. In this moment my response is: dance is a very...

What is Dance? by John Glenn

After college, I worked at a research institute on arts education called Project Zero inspired by the philosopher of art, Nelson Goodman, and I...

What is Dance? by Naima Prevots

Dance is organized movement where people express themselves for different reasons to enjoy the body’s energies and messages joined with the spirit and to...

Must-read

One Poem by Charlotte Van Schaack

Writing On The Wall   Even with the fear of haunted place, everyone is trying to become a ghost.          As in the paid...

One Poem by Kate Gorman

FALLSTREETLIGHT SWITCH The sodium-vapor streetlightswith fresnel lenses like lidded eyeshave been replacedwith horseshoe-like arcs of LED lights.As the morning stays dark longerand evening comes on...

Three Poems by Mary Whitlow

Cloth & Sun    Chaos greets me at the door—   broken things swirl,   dust motes through worn curtains,   a breath before the next bruise.   You coil like an old cobra,   fangs...
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