Everything is contained in everything. I work to tune in, I work to learn and fail, I work to live, I work to soften my heart, though my heart may harden, I work to become patient, I work to become lighter.

To dance for me has been to be committed to one thing for a long time. In my case and at the best of times this thing is about movement, my body, rhythm, deep listening, heightened states, care for other bodies and collectivity. In the worst moments it can be about competition, a disconnection from each other, striving for ideals of perfection, suffering deeply at the hands of these ideals, losing sight of what moves us for the sake of getting ahead in a world that often seems to value rapid growth above all else.

A mentor once told me when I was 21 that everyone has their own path. Though when he said it then it gave me comfort, now at 28 it’s taken on more meaning. I didn’t want exactly what I have now when I was beginning my career. At that time I wanted big shiny achievements, and I still want that, and my relationship to that wanting is complicated and ongoing. It’s my path, or anyway a part of it. Yet, I have received so much. I wanted a certain kind of success, I strove for it, and along the way I kept dancing. I keep dancing. Striving for an ideal can be generative, and it can be destructive. Both! That has become clear. And it will probably continue like that.

I love the title and lyric from the Angel Olsen album “Burn your fire for no witness”. I take comfort in that. Moments of my life when I have felt most alive and connected have often been moments when I feel that I don’t need someone to tell me I am enough to make what I am experiencing or creating complete or worthy.

I want a soft buoyant strength in my muscles. My muscles that will change and age, grow and get smarter though they get older. I want an ease in my joints. I want a flexible mind. I want to work with people whose minds are flexible, that want to create art that is buzzing, that might defy definition, that is searing and gentle.