"Regarding these birds, evoking images of primitive genes, one is carried back in time to an ancient world. In the gentle light in the forest, the sight of these grotesque-eyed lanky birds standing motionless causes time to stand still, creating the illusion that they could even lead me to the era of the dinosaurs. It is a vista that calls to mind the primordial earth.
With such sentiments, I gaze on this scene as I timidly approach the birds, and find a most unexpected comical aspect to them. As they run, they direct their gaze upward at the other birds sounding their lovely calls as they fly freely in the sky. Flightless, though possessing wings, they are like the underachievers of the race of birds, oddly pathetic and stirring sympathy. Bathed in abundant pools of light, as they rest their large eyes with a translucent white third eyelid drawn across the orb, their weirdness is accentuated. But conversely to such appearances, their nature is in fact docile. They are creatures incongruent in their outer and inner aspects.
I’ve felt that the ballet movements I was taught as a youngster must have been created in the image of, and in yearning for birds. The aspect of those scaly feet, slowly setting one foot forward and kicking back the ground beneath, lightly, precisely all the way to the tips of the toes. The neck is slender and supple, legs thin and long, the upright form with gay wings of the tutu has a seemliness with nothing extraneous in its movement. As I watched these birds, I felt that surely their movements must be the origin of the dance.
In the process of evolution, these creatures, who chose to run upon the land and survive thus, outstretched their necks and looked up to the sky as though longing for flight. In the same way, the dancers resist gravity, yearning to dance high into the skies above. Each of these, unfolding on their respective stages in their wordless, distinct forms, beckon me to another world."