Inspired by Kairys’ global dance portraits, this is your invitation to turn your next trip into a living, breathing performance—no stage, no audience, just you and the world, moving together.
Below are five ways to build that spirit of motion into your adventures, so every journey feels like a story you stepped into, not just passed through.
Let Each City Choose Your “First Dance”
Instead of racing from landmark to landmark, arrive with one simple mission: find the first place that makes you want to move. It might be a plaza where a busker is bending jazz notes into the dusk, a rooftop where the wind is louder than the music on your headphones, or a temple courtyard where the silence is its own rhythm. Kairys’ photos capture women spinning in narrow alleys, cliff edges, city streets—proof that choreography doesn’t belong only in studios.
Give yourself permission to be unpolished. Put in your earbuds, choose one song that matches the mood of that place, and allow your body to sway, even if it’s just a gentle shift of weight, a slow turn. The point isn’t to impress anyone; it’s to mark the landing. That tiny ritual tells your nervous system: I’m really here. Film 5–10 seconds if you’d like a keepsake, then put the phone away and stay with the feeling. Over time, you’ll collect a private reel of “first dances” that pull you right back into each city’s heartbeat.
Turn Scenic Viewpoints Into Improvised Stages
Scroll through Kairys’ viral shots and you’ll notice a pattern: the backdrop is always magnificent, but the subject’s movement is what makes the scene unforgettable. Use that same lens on your own travels. When you reach a stunning overlook—a coastal cliff in Portugal, a desert ridge in Utah, a fog-laced hilltop in Vietnam—pause before you take the standard photo. Ask yourself, How does this place want me to move?
Maybe it’s a huge, arms-wide-open stretch at sunrise. Maybe it’s a small, steady march along the edge that makes you feel brave. Turn a simple lookout into a 360-degree moment: slowly spin to take in every angle, lift your gaze above the horizon, drop your eyes to the details at your feet. The movement itself becomes a memory anchor. Later, when your photos blur together, you’ll remember the way the wind shoved at your jacket, the grit under your shoes, the way your heartbeat synced with the waves or the city hum below. That’s how viewpoints stop being backdrops and start becoming scenes in your personal adventure film.
Follow the Music, Not Just the Map
Kairys’ traveling dancers are often framed by street life—musicians, markets, passing strangers. That’s a quiet reminder to let sound steer you sometimes. On your next trip, try dedicating one afternoon or evening to following your ears instead of your itinerary. Start walking from your hotel, hostel, or campsite with no destination other than, “Go where the music gets louder.”
You might stumble upon a neighborhood block party, a tiny club with live flamenco, a local dance school practicing in an open gym, or an old man with an accordion turning a quiet corner into a concert. When you find it, stay. Buy a drink, clap along, join the crowd. If it feels right, step into the dance—copy a move, laugh at your own awkwardness, let locals lead you. Safety first, of course: stick to well-lit areas, watch your belongings, and trust your instincts about when to step away. But as long as you’re alert, letting music guide you can peel back the “tourist layer” and drop you right into the living, breathing culture of a place.
Capture Motion, Not Just Monuments
One reason Kairys’ photos are exploding across Instagram and travel feeds right now is that they feel alive. They’re not just pretty backdrops; they’re moments of courage, joy, vulnerability caught mid-motion. You can bring that same energy into your travel photography—even if you’re not a photographer and especially if you’re camera-shy.
Instead of standing stiff in front of landmarks, try these simple “motion prompts”:
- Take three slow steps toward the camera and look past it, not at it.
- Do a playful half-spin with your jacket or scarf catching the air.
- Walk through the frame instead of posing inside it.
- If you’re comfortable, try one signature move—a jump, a heel click, a spin—that you repeat in every city.
Ask a travel buddy or a new friend to hold down the shutter for a burst of shots while you move, or prop your phone up and use video, then screenshot your favorite frame. You’ll end up with images that feel more like scenes from a story than passport photos. And when you share them, include a quick note about how that place made you feel—excited, small, brave, free. People don’t connect to perfection; they connect to motion and emotion.
Make a “Moving Memory” Ritual for Every Trip
What makes Kairys’ project so powerful right now is its consistency: different countries, same bold idea—dance wherever you are. You can build your own low-pressure version of that tradition, something that turns every trip into a chapter in a larger adventure.
Pick one simple ritual that involves movement and repeat it in every new place:
- A sunrise stretch on your first full morning, filmed for 5 seconds.
- A slow, 360-degree turn wherever you watch your first sunset.
- A short “victory walk” at the end of your biggest hike or hardest travel day.
- A few steps of a local dance you learn in each destination.
Keep them in a private album or journal so they feel like yours first, not just content. Over time, you’ll see your adventures not as disconnected vacations but as a continuous story of a human expanding—city by city, song by song, movement by movement. And if you choose to share pieces of that story online, don’t just chase the algorithm. Share what you want to remember: the tiny brave moments, the times you danced when you could have stayed on the sidelines, the places that shifted something inside you.
Conclusion
Right now, as Skirmantas Kairys’ images of women dancing through streets, cliffs, rooftops, and markets circle the globe, the travel world is being handed a quiet challenge: don’t just collect places—inhabit them. You don’t need perfect choreography, expensive gear, or a blue checkmark to accept that challenge. You just need a willingness to move, to look a little foolish, to let each destination leave its rhythm in your bones.
On your next trip, try this: when you arrive somewhere new, close your map for a moment, put one foot in front of the other, and let the world around you set the tempo. Then step into it. Your adventure doesn’t start at the airport or end at the hotel. It starts the first time you decide that wherever you land, you’re not just passing through—you’re part of the dance.