To the walls and floor, it doesn't matter who she is - young, beautiful, of a certain nationality or religion, where she works, how much she earns, who she sleeps with, or what she eats. They are indifferent to her nudity.

She is free. She has surrendered to the dance, trusting her body and inner primal energy. Like a mad Bacchante, like Salome shedding veils, she is free from the transitory bustle. The dance is her challenge, her will, her passion, her peace. Only the tiled pattern follows her pose, the cold impassive floor cooling her hot body. She is wonderfull.