Electricube (or, Kissed By Movement)

My first experience on the dance floor was atypical; many future dancers start by contorting their bodies in the comfort of their living room, flanked and prodded by mom and dad, showcasing their newly-minted moves in front of grams and gramps and the rest of the extended family. As if parading the dog and pony show at the behest of others is a conscious choice they’d make. Mine was different, though, in many ways; the space