POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
Moving through J.’s vinyasa sequences again. The post-Covid restrictions class is full but it’s also permitted to use the space at full capacity, so it isn’t a race to get a spot anymore. I have this odd sense that things are falling into place again. I recognize this moving body. This tight-tight hamstring. This good…
Leonard is stretched out on the floor next to me. And barking at the neighbor’s voices squeezing in through the windowsill. His concern is unconvincing. I suppose it’s nice that he feels a sense of duty. He hasn’t moved in a half an hour. I expect this morning’s exceptional walk along the trail was too…
Where did we ever get the idea that we could “make time” for anything in our lives? I caught myself asking this morning. My inner monologue part self-recrimination, part pie-in-the-sky planning. How can I make time for… If I am honest with myself, this time I want to make is actually a story of “a…