Tell the truth
Tell the truth
Tell the truth.
We live in a weird world, peeps.
Branding and identity have become interchangeable, and we construct both out of tags, likes, and status updates. This can be awesome, and allow us to make our life our art and our art our life. And it can also drive us to hold up an image of ourselves that doesn’t always match what’s actually going on.
Since we humans DON’T FIT NEATLY INTO CATEGORIES, keeping up appearances consumes an assload of energy. Like trying to keep an ocean inside a swimming pool with your bare hands.
But still we do it, in the name of politeness, or what’s best for business, or because of some belief about who we have to be to be loved, or whatever, and we become a hazard to our own health.
And our beliefs about who we think we should and shouldn’t be?
They tend to get amplified around dance floors.
We think we’re supposed to roll up with a posse and bust some perfectly choreographed moves in our six-pack abs (damn you Britney CIRCA 2001). And if that’s just not what we’re workin with at the moment? Better stand by the bar all night. Or better yet, just stay home.
F that though.
The Get Down is not about putting your best foot forward, friends.
It’s about putting your foot forward, period.
And then the other one, and then the other, until the beat swallows you whole and the sweat falls in your eyes and whatever you don’t need anymore finally gets let loose enough to alchemize, burn up, or fall away.
You can come alone, or with some people. You can come angry, or lost, or totally psyched about life. Once we’re on the dance floor, we’re in the same boat. We’ll stomp until our knees are shaking and shake until our hearts are free.
It’s not about appearances. It’s about the truth.
And that is love.
Meet us THERE.
So much more below, including tomorrow's sunrise, late night mischiefs, museum headstands, and one very special sunset.