Louise wanted “dancing” and I thought hard about photographing a ceilidh. But I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to play with it, so here you go.
Let it be said that I am not a dancer.
I’ve been to a dance class once.
I hurt myself.
At a ceilidh, where the movements are predetermined, great. But ask me to dance at a gig, or a festival?
Worse, ask me to dance in a CLUB.
Euch. I have no idea what to do with any parts of my body.
My arms hang limply by my sides and I move my shoulders around a lot in slow, languid ovoids.
I might nod my head emphatically.
Someone once said I danced like a mixture of Gene Simmons and Kevin the Teenager.
So I thought I’d just try and throw some shapes in the dark, with a thirty second exposure, and some glowsticks knocking about.
After making some pretty rainbow trails that looked more like a Beatles cover than a physical expression of music, I tried firing a flash in my hand at opportune moments.
And came up with this.
I sort of like it.