On conservative estimate the average person takes a bout 3,000 steps per day; that means that each day one experiences 3,000 tiny, controlled falls. Every time you take a step, you lean forward and fall slightly, and are caught by your outstretched foot. If you failed to put your foot forward, you would fall flat on your face. After your foot touches the ground, your body’s weight is transferred to it and your knee bends to absorb the shock. The front leg then lifts the body and propels it forward as the rear leg swings up to catch you again, and the cycle repeats.
Above some artists (left to right: Marc Chagall, Li Wei, Kerry Skarbakka, Denis Darzacq, Sam Taylor Wood, Stanley Forman) provide their observations on that moment where the body is dislocated from its connection to the ground. Unlike the myclonic jerks of sleep flight or falling, these pieces show the grace and fluidity of bodies removed from the ceiling and floor of relative gravity. The Icarusian desire to fly with such seeming grace undercuts its impossibility and the dangers of impact. Regardless, they are fleeting moments of serene beauty, the kind of falls we almost let ourselves take 3,000 times a day.
Trying to embrace the beauty of a fall in perpetuity.