The national conversation on consent is extremely relevant to connection based dancing. You need to listen to your dance partner, listen to their body, read comfort level, do not force movements.
I have had partners who KILLED my body, could not read the limits of my spine, wrenched my arm etc, but they were so fun to dance with that I just let it slide. Not this year. If you do that to me I will never let you lead me again. So. men that dance, you best learn how to follow, or pay me money to teach you how to be more gentle hah.
“looking cool” should be like… number 7 on your priorities of a dance, I am 100% serious.

Watching people fight it out in the comment section on articles about consent/the MeToo movement in general, breaks my heart.





I was lonely.  How do you push someone away when they aren’t respecting your “no” when you’re that lonely?

I could now. I do now.   Glad we’re having the conversation, but people need to stop being f***ing jerks.

I get why people do drugs.

On day two of meditation, and it is so so so hard to get out of my head.


Not to mention, true creative thought.

People who are able to tap into a state of creative flow are indistinguishable from people under the influence.

We were running down the street, snow and ice, negative temperatures.  Throwing each other around, you lead (as in the metal) me blind, I carried you.  I said people would think we were on drugs and you said, “yeah but the really awesome thing is, we’re not”.

I crave awareness and authenticity and I think I finally know the first step in looking for it.

Something is crystallizing.   Here we go 2018.

“Do you dance?”

I mean to say… does the music punch you full in the face, leave you breathing hard, your neurons singed like you’ve been struck by lightning..

Does the elastic canvas of your body birth itself like the ocean in a hurricane

How is your relationship with gravity?

s. e.

Maybe no one can trust me as much as I trusted you

always thought gravity was a ride-or-die,
but I hear the earth is flat now, so…

There was a clock in a formerly well-used room
7 year paper trail stapled to the wall
on how to wind it

I guess it’s still there

handcuffed to your highs and lows

useless heirloom marking time on an altar of obsolescence