A year ago I realized I wasn’t doing what I set out to do. I wasn’t performing, choreographing, or teaching. I was doing some of those things, some of the time, but none were fully realized.
Winter Solstice
We drive in the darkpast the open fieldsinto the neighborhood:Millions of lights on the housesin the trees—the world a-twinkle with hopewhile overhead a...
Street Scene
Early evening heat rises frompavements, from cement and asphalt,carrying a scent slightly sour,slightly acrid—oily and tar-like.
Outside the café, beyond its fenced-intables, a large...
