Lots to say. Lots and lots to say but not enough time or energy to successfully gather thoughts that would make sense to the world. Another time perhaps? Okay then, yes...another time.

Until then:



I will have words for this soon as well. They will be good ones. :-)



blessings.

The Summer Bucket

1. Take as many dance workshops as possible.
2. Paint. Every chance I get.
3. Beach. Sunday-Saturday and repeat.
4. First Friday's.
5. Book List (another post another day)
6. Go through my entire closet.
7. Choreograph one dance every two weeks.
8. Work on my one act.
9. Have ten monologues ready to go at a moments notice.
10. Let the sun kiss my face all day everyday.


Summer 2010. Great. A great many things are missing off of this list...but it's because I know 100% that I will do them. These others are just mindful goals I would like to fulfill. Fingers crossed.


Summer rain. Summer storms. Please please please come and visit us soon. Ok? Ok. Good.

Running Home

What happens when the wind blows?

i want morrocan spices. real ones.

Nicest Thing

'Learn by practice.'
Martha Graham


While watching the older girls rehearse this morning for our dance recital tonight, one of my younger students was sitting in the chair next to me-wiggling. Wiggling like no child has ever wiggled before in the existence of the whole world. Then, suddenly...she stopped. Abruptly and quietly she just stopped moving. She sat and she sat and she sat for what must have been five minutes straight. Then, slowly and in the cutest most innocent way possible she turns to me and says 'Miss Erica...patience is hard'. I giggled and said 'Yes...it is hard. It becomes a little easier as you grow older'. She smiled and wiggled a bit into a more relaxed state then replied 'Good. I hope so.'

What do we hold?

"Who takes? (She laughs.) The world. (She gestures out.) That. (She taps her head.) This is all you can take. When I was a little girl, walking out of Poland after the bombs...the ones of us who were left. Ach. We took all the wrong things...little spoons, a duck, a purple table runner...We were so stupid. We would be holding all the wrong things for the rest of our lives, no matter where we went...Ach. I would hold the little comb to my chest all night long on the boat across the ocean, because I cannot hold my mother's hand, never again. And I think, this will save me. This will be enough. A comb she gave me. Because her hand had been on it. This wlll save me. This thing."

Zofia.
Tongue of a Bird
By: Ellen McLaughlin

'It's your eye in the storm-Watching over me'

'I have built a city here, half with pride and half with fear. Just wanted a safer place to hide. I don’t want to be safe tonight

I need You like a hurricane-Thunder crashing, wind and rain-To tear my walls down...I’m only Yours now. I need you like a burning flame. A wild fire untamed-To burn these walls down...I’m only Yours now...I’m only Yours now



I am Yours and You are mine. You know far better than I. And if destruction’s what I need. Then I’ll receive it Lord from Thee. Yes, I’ll receive it Lord from Thee...

And it’s Your eye in the storm-Watching over me. And it’s Your eye in the storm. Wanting only good for me. And if You are the war, let me be the casualty ‘Til I’m Yours alone-I am only Yours-I am Yours alone, Lord

...Come be my hurricane'

--Jimmy Needham, Hurricane




cover contest

'We can hear the first beat to the flat line'

You know when you begin to speak and you slowly start to lose track of what you originally wanted to say? Then after your ramble has started to take a giant leap off of a bridge into an entirely different subject than you ever wanted to enter you think 'oh god...this is awful'. The moment of the 'flatline'. Too late to save it. Too late to go back. Welcome to my life-my conversational life anyway.

The more I think about it...I've decided that I don't have anything really profound to say. You know-I'm ok with this. I really am. Why should anyone ever have anything profound to say all of the time. If each and every person had something amazing to say every time they opened their mouth, things would eventually stop sounding so...profound. Right? Maybe-I don't know. This is just my personal opinion but I think that I would much rather hear ramblings...yeah. Yeah, I feel that I would much rather hear the thought process happen outside of the brain than just the outcome. You can learn so much more from this-The process. It is interesting to me-what we track.

At times we focus so much on the product rather than the process and it's something that I feel many should stop and consider. I'm not just saying this to justify my ramblings, but I very much feel that it is a necessary observation that needs to take place. I know that many realize there is a process that we must go through and to let things 'take their course'...but I don't know that they really follow and take note of the process that's happening; to enjoy the process for what it is. I know I write about this a lot-but it's an essential part of life that I cross paths with far too often. So it's a part of me that I want to share.

Scribbles. When I look at the papers in front of me...that's all I see-scribbles. A set of groupings that look like a giant nonsensical mess. I don't think that I'll turn these papers in to be graded. I doubt they will be in my favor. They make perfect sense to me though. That's ok...my process.
So, instead, I've decided to take the day for myself. To recoup. 'Find my center' as they say. I'll memorize lines. Rearrange my room. Do some laundry. Catch up on some work. Call some friends. Read a book. Do some yoga. Make delicious food...essentially be a normal human being. My papers will take their course and we'll work together later-but for today-it's my day. I want to enjoy it for what it is.