Barn moment, part 1

This barn, where I spent the very beginnings of my life as a dancer, surrounded by a community of movers, bound by our fierce appreciation for the earth and hippy Vermont roots, gives me new breath. Breath of crisp spring (still winter?) air, breath of space and quiet. Breath of my piece.

I have been soaking in thoughts about Like Water for weeks, through the loss and chaos, the connections from afar and the re-aquaintance with home. Here, I played with this movement, on my own, in this solitude and the sun peaking through the window.

This post is dedicated to Carol Langstaff, my first and most profound inspiration. Thank you for the wisdom you have saturated this land with and given me over the years. I dance these dances from my thesis for you!


Begin freewrite.
"She came back to my body like a bird flying home after winter. I am overcome with the rush of reunion, 'dance in me' I scream I want to feel your whisper.

The coarse barn wood greets my feet and I am home.

I cry.

It is too much to carry sometimes, but this task of receiving dance heals my wounds. My chest pounds, lead and storms and worry creasing inside like aged paper. She smooths some of it so I can breathe again.

Stay together, learn anew. Resurrect this child inside me, the one who plays in the field without fear of mud. Splash in the pool and let the ripples encompass us all."