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?
loose harvest
In another life, I was edible
flowers. I wore a fitted baby tee
that said tubular. It came to define
me. Fingerling sounds dirty—name of a...
Eulogyafter a song by Tool
If I can’t cry for you, how can I cryfor myself? Someday, they’ll find you,lightning burned tongue, wings long pawned,liver...
Preserves
I have an urge to preservetoday, boil the remaining fruitsto their sticky sugars, remove
the pits and seeds, smash fleshadd pectin and lemon juice, pourand...
