To come home, as often, the song appears upstream of it all, as a metaphor of the future - it’s less writing it than letting it blossom from inside of you and then be brave enough to respect the truth that just has been voiced Yes, I would like to come home, finally, in my own body In my humanity - that cannot be reduced to nothing In our bodies worn out by a society of shadows, a society of ultimate performance, the one of a self that could be encapsulated in a telephone Gentle fingers in the morning, love starved, on the telephone But inside us, the truth, irreducible to the camera The truth of our soul The work of love is now inside the frequencies - Since Paranoïa, who taught me the invisible, I learn that music too is sculpting the invisible Shamanic, she is cause I believe music can save and heal us, we all have this example, in us, of that song So i now tackle mixing, I study the greats, those who, outside of a now way too codified system, simply made choices, more or less extreme, one after the other An expression of their style, style being the wiff of choices made every minute How you walk How you talk The music you listen to, your inner landscape : your style. This song makes me cry because it is true, so much love I have for you, this deep decision to always stay honest - for the dance to be then the shared moment, the joyful celebration. One moment together. A wholesome surrender. One love, from one to the next, before I danced for this video I listened to Barbara I remember Her dancing in the living room, her approach of movement A celebration, A sharing A dance that would express the inside of you, as poem I am a student of the greatest masters of Japanese Buto I read them, I imprint their quest in my bones, they are student themselves Of Artaud, the great thinker of the human body through theater Who ended up in those primary expressions alone, to tell the story of an overflow, an emotion With Sasha the painter, I danced for the first time Finding my style back, emotional, eruptive, impregnated with the masters Fosse being my first shaman - precision, but also, childhood The constant search of the child who knows that dancing is unlocking the skies above, purifying dimensions May the hand that search in the invisible create a gift for God, an offering of our humanity Androgynous, i have always been, with cristal tears Androgynous, we all are, in perpetual mutation, Being born some place, learning love, individual snowflake that we are, in this wonderful snow that gleams on earth Coming back to earth, in her truth, for I suffered yet another injury just before I got up again, so is my dance practice Absolute, engaging body and mind Dancing even more precisely that I master now the frequencies By surrendering, like a child would, to the love of you that makes me swarm in flowers in the night of the set I offer you my life, what I have been through, without saying a word - dance, ultimate red pennant of of the timid I broke everything out of anger, because I felt we were refused a better world, I feel like you do the spite and the wars, but we have to be clever in front of the eternal We have to gather in our human, yes, your body, yes, your body, irreducible to screens, boxes and flasks, your body irreducible to photography, your body who first and above everything pours your soul out And when you die, soldier, the replay of your life will teach you who you truly loved So, out of respect to the Lord, that I call also Goddess and source since light is a benevolent stream, that you can call like your mumdad I dance loving the heavens already, in which I imprint and purify my scars I forgive With my hands Who are the two little birds That Jesus gave to me

© Eloïse Labarbe-Lafon

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