I am trying to make sense out of the intersection of literature/narrative and dance. In the creation of Tundra, I started with a series of questions. What is it to be a woman in the world, alone?
Violin Plays
She holds on tight to bow and strings, yet,it is her body, curving and rounding,on inner caverns that gives musicits beginnings: Soaked in...
Odds
Miracles happen: I believe this,breast bared and danglingdown through a table designedfor radiation treatment.The techs push and pull me into position,marks on my body...
