The dancer threads his way across the crowd. Onlookers firstly ignore his unusual act of visual poetry but they quickly gather. As more dancers pile into this frenzy, the simple story has become epic with a variety of narrators, weaving their own magic into the folds. There are some who do not see past the physical dimensions, past an array of blurring hands and feet. They head back to the long winding passage of elixirs, hoping to seek their own salvation from a bottle. The storyteller continues his dance, guiding the group through more of their stories, embracing them for their contributions. In admiration, he adds another chapter of his own to the tale
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