cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
For many years my value and self-worth felt inextricably tied to others. I felt this inner need, this constant pull, to do and help and support and to prove, constantly prove, that I was good, and of service, and selfless; that I was not needy, but needed. I learned the art of bending and contorting…
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Learning about Spanish culture was one part of my college summer school program in Madrid, Spain, and that meant churches, museums, bullfights, and flamenco dances. There were also many visits to nightclubs—called discotecas—but I don’t think my professors considered those part of my cultural education. I thoroughly enjoyed every museum and would gladly return to…
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I’ve always found myself in the dance of caretaking, waiting for my partner to take the lead, whether my mom, my dad, or a friend. When I found myself disappointed or let down, I’d lead instead. It was exhausting, but necessary to get my needs met. Occasionally I would have moments when I could float…
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“Oh Woman, come before us, before our eyes longing for beauty, and tired of the ugliness of civilization…Dance us the sweetness of life. Give us again the sweetness and the beauty of the true dance.” Isadore Duncan On the morning of September 15, before the Brave On guests began to arrive, I stood in…
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We have boot scuff marks on our living room ceiling.
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Of all the stories I get to tell, the one of meeting my husband is one of my favorites.
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A poem by Kacy Davis
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Dance is one of those words that evokes a visceral response inside me – simultaneous anxiety and longing, joy and fear.
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As a young girl, I loved the rain. I loved dancing in the rain, running in the rain, just being in the rain.
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During fourth grade, my Mom signed me up for an entire year of jazz class.
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