Salome
Body.
A masterly construction. Skin, bone and blood. The coordinated action of muscles. A beautiful structure.
As a dancer, this is how I see my body.
I, Salomé Darroze, a dancer at the Paris Opera, see my body as the only means to achieve my goals.
I have to be aware of its existence, its weight. The public sees me as light as a feather, a snowflake. But in reality, I have to let my goals pull me down. I must hold out, the wind can't blow the other way, the sea can't carry me away from what I want.
I want to shine. Burn like a comet on the sky over Paris.
Fame is what I want.
I want to be the best.
I don't care what I have to do to be a star. No one, no one can stand in my way.
The only power I obey is the power of music.
Music is my partner.
Sometimes I let it take control of me. I let it pulsate in my veins, make my muscles move.
When I dance.
When a melody takes over, suddenly it's as if I'm not myself. It's a strange feeling but it's like watching myself from a theatre box. I look down on myself from above.
I see a tall, slender girl. Her skin is like white satin, her hair black as night.
As she moves the stage bursts into flames. Her body bends and stretches like a beautiful snake. Grace and exuberant beauty pulsate in her every movement. The way she closes her eyes is mesmerizing and there is almost a lust in her face as she gives her body to the music like a passionate lover.
As the music fades, I return to my body.
And looking around I see the glow of adoration on the faces of the audience, ecstatic applause erupts and bouquets of roses shower at my feet. The theatre loves me, especially the men, of course.
Success is near and I will shine.
No matter what it takes, Paris and the Opera will be mine.
