We walk into the gym and scan for mat space, Kim’s aerial hoop over her shoulder, my aerial silk in my arms.
Aerialists hang from the peg wall, doing pike-ups and hoping the Cirque coaches will notice them. Big-bodied catchers wear tank tops and striped toe-socks. Short, muscled flyers with linebacker shoulders and gnarled ankles look at us,
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Well its all about destiny and being at the right place at the right time among the right people even. Not very encouraging that. But then again .... at the end of it doesn't it come down to enjoying what you do rather than worry about anything else.
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I need to tattoo this somewhere and remember it when receiving concrit. :)
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I like the sort of languid "fuck it all" vibe in this piece. It's lethargic but also moves really well.
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