top of page

“Quarantine Diaries,” by David Garyan (Day 34)

(Photo by Reginaldo Azevedo)

Quarantine Diaries – Day 34 April 17th, 2020

Trento, Italy


There’ve been too many mornings in which my body has yearned for sleep; neither the sun could make me go out, nor the rain keep me at home.

For years, I walked the streets with my eyes closed, trying to lose my sight without going blind.

I smiled at people and held eye contact until they believed it was a pleasure to meet them— my thoughts were nothing but a ballerina’s feet, which could no longer dance, but the mind told them otherwise.

I ripped human beings out of myself and planted them in other people’s gardens— even the fruits they bore, I didn’t collect.

There were days where music itself couldn’t move me. As winter paralyzes lakes, I waited for the night that would ease my own body— not the thoughts below it.

Like philosophers forced to be what their books won’t allow, I wanted to act without consulting my mind— be the best choreographer who gives people freedom to dance like they want.


bottom of page