Elegance is

un-awkward hellos and goodbyes. Elegance is being able to greet someone completely new and welcome them into life with no reservations or hiccups. It is being able to say goodbye to someone (forever) with the same decisiveness and ease

Elegance is moving from one position to another (without making mistakes)—It is the ability to move, seemingly perfectly, from place to place in the world and from place to place within my body and from ideal place to ideal place within the thought sphere

Elegance is the birth and death of so many states, in a way that is so beautiful that it seems it must have been planned. Elegance is picking up and letting go so naturally that the operator seems outside of time, a dancer, a sprite, never a broken bone, never succumbing to gravity—never even tricked by it—Elegance is—



flawlessness (seeming—elegance may make mistakes but elegance does not call a mistake a mistake—elegance integrates mistakes perfectly, re-forming them into the whole as though they were part of the plan)

Elegance is enabled by a knowledge of movement (whatever type—from body to body, from knowledge to knowledge)—it appears spontaneous and planned (it is both)—it improvises from a deep book of movements, following recipes by rote and arbitrarily throwing in flourishes it deems desirable

Elegance is characterized by a lack of the question, What should I do? Anytime there is apparent doubt or an apparent mistake, that is not elegant. Elegance is not asking itself questions that itself cannot answer—elegance comes up with an answer to every question it is asked (or escapes answering)—Elegance is not flappably surprised by itself or you

Elegance is self-aware. It might not seem this way at first, but elegance is not innocence—a child is not elegant. It is the quality of one who is supremely self-aware (and yet able to play)—Elegance is at the intersection of ancientness and childishness. Ancientness for the studied knowledge of how to move, childishness for the willingness to improvise and fail. Ancientness to catch the willing faller, to spin it out into a perfect move—that is elegance

A faller who never hits the ground

A constant jumper (a constant tripper!) who never finally falls

An improviser whose stories always come together right before they could have fallen apart

Elegance is not a rock, or a sphere, or a job, or a house—elegance moves! Elegance is constantly risking—and constantly prevailing. It is not a safe quantity. It is not conservative. It is not averse to risk. Elegance is risk that never loses, constant risk that never fails. It isn't walking down a sidewalk—it's walking across a tightrope—jumping, flipping over the Grand Canyon and landing on its feet

That's what elegance is to me