Sensual dancers

We play
The tambourines
The pulse of light
Flows within...

We pray
For our dignity incomplete,
For emotions which still compete

With our will,
I can follow you still
Through the loneliest fields...

We touch upon the lightest frail frames,
You are my memetic factory,
Our feelings are so olfactory
Satisfactory...

Dance
And disappear like a whirlwind,
Like a thunder striking up

Like the Holy Grail,
We keep tracking the sails
Far away...

©   Maryna Tchianova

Part of a set of derivative literary works which stem from the creativity of Christina Bothwell.

Her approach to visual arts and sculpture can be interpreted and reinterpreted in numerous ways. The way I analyse art, following the French tradition of literary and visual arts critique, I find these oeuvres meaningful and woth the viewer's attention.

They are full of vigor and nebulous charm, and their philosophic roots can inspire and propagate a feeling of unity with the whole mankind in the viewer.