week 47: alone and together

I have written about my relationship to dance before (here) - from dancing to Martin Denny as a child to longing for the grace of dance in my body as a girl to settling in as an occasional observer of dance as an adult. Taking an actual dance class has been on my list of... Continue Reading →

week fifty-one: sing, dance, share

This week I was reminded of why I need to get my ass in gear and make some more goddamn money. Oh sure, it would be good for all sorts of reasons (retirement...what's that? Safety net...uh, no thanks, I guess). But the main reason is for stuff like PICA's TBA Festival (that's Portland Institute of... Continue Reading →

week seven: dance fever

I used to leave notes in my mother's purse asking her questions I was too shy to ask out loud. The last one I left, around age 11, read, I want to learn how to dance. Will you let me take a class? My dance experience up to that point included the following: a single... Continue Reading →

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