The only person who needs to know who I am is me
We enter the conversation. You do not know me and I do not know you. We are full of potential. I let go of needing to be anything for you, so that I can be fully present with you. I have nothing to prove.
I center the body. I ignite a presence that is mine. It cannot be taught, like someone’s idea of “first position,” but it can be shared through our own rituals of meaning-making. Show me the step and I live inside of it. Imagination, play and pleasure, within and through the dance of the body; I can become anything.
I am interested in voice—how the body voices and amplifies lived, felt, human experience.
I haunt the systems that haunt me. I sing to them and make them dances. I find them hiding in my instrument and make them known. I practice being human. I listen to the experiences of people. I stay with them. I stay with the discomfort and joy of owning my story.
Sweat, sensuality, and exhaust. I lean into the heat of this intelligence. I embrace my anger, my prejudices, my flaws, my beauty, my resilience, my passion. Imperfection is style. Power lies in this sweat, sensuality and exhaust...in my growing comfort with, passion for and commitment to humanity.
My body is my own. My mind is quiet. My heart is full. My belly is a pillow. I am reminded of the sensation of coming back to the body, that may not provide objective, concrete answers, but reminds me of the subjectivity, continuity, and fluid nature of the human experience. Of staying in the unknown until shifting into something else.
Slow down. Be still. It’s totally cool if you don’t want to dance.
Photo Credit by Jonathan Hsu
Photo Credit by Still1
Photo Credit at CU Boulder, Rennie Harris GrassRoots