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?
Cut and Run
1.Faced with a mango’ssweetness, I recallhow my aunt would slicethe flame-hued ovoid—
cross-hatching sections,flipping the soft skininside-out, each pieceoffering itself
to my lips or...