Excerpt:
“When Shoma Uno spins on the ice, I imagine the world around him recedes to a blur of indistinct color, that amidst the angular momentum, his vision softens. I imagine, in this altered state, he focuses not on what he sees but what he feels. I am neither figure skater nor physicist, but to spin in this way—to exert force, then yield to the energy (the work)—seems to hold the potential for an uncommon pleasure, a particular freedom. (Within the physicist’s world of force, energy, and work, pleasure and freedom are not part of the equation. I wish, though, I were better at yielding, able to find pleasure not only in action but in surrendering to consequence.) When Uno spins on the ice, I imagine the constellation of faces and flags in the stands, the bright lights, and the blunt advertisements that line the rink darkening and dissolving; I fantasize of this diffuse liberation; I imagine the body as its own light, shivering to shine; I imagine the body as the last remaining sensation.”
