i like the way we walk
Let this serve as one of the very few pieces of existing recorded evidence of me dancing well, so that when my spine degenerates and I’m a pile of useless bone I can show this to my children (or the children who live next door to me in whatever low income housing complex I wind up in when I’m old and withered) and say, “kids, gather round and watch old Dave as a young buck, moving his feet down a shockingly well lit LA side street with a witchy platinum blonde babe to the sounds of current president/former pop star Janelle Monae’s 2010 hit song Tightrope.”
The Plastics were a group of girls who ran a pawn shop and replaced parts of themselves with hyper-colorful pieces of plastic. Their town was never-ending, gray drab, surrounded by super-tall mountains that people lived on top of. Bits of plastic debris would fall down the mountains, and the Plastics (Nikki, Cola, Tracy) would find and use the debris, like a red toothpaste cap for a tooth.
Storytelling is a political act. It’s making sense of the world and ourselves, and like every other kind of sense-making, it’s as political as it is personal and vice-versa. There is no distinction to be made between the political and the personal. Writing of any kind is political. It’s claimsmaking regarding reality and how to interpret it. Because whenever we’re faced with these things, we’re faced with fundamental truths regarding how creation makes and unmakes the world, regarding whose voices are amplified and whose are lost, between who gets to speak and who is literally silenced.
One Really fun project, a wedding jumpsuit! And this is the bride, Salka, ready for her wedding last friday.
The jumpsuit it self is machine knitted, the eyes are hand embroidered and the colors hand knitted.
Photographer: Antonía Lárusdóttir
I WANT ONE <3___________________<3
i have so many things to say and i am trying to get it all out. mostly: i am grateful to be here at the same time as you.
the fabulous arthur mitchell and dance theater of harlem
There is no special love exclusively reserved for romantic partners. Genuine love is the foundation of our engagement with ourselves, with family, with friends, with partners, with everyone we choose to love. While we will necessarily behave differently depending on the nature of a relationship , or have varying degrees of commitment, the values that inform our behavior, when rooted in a love ethic, are always the same for any interaction.
bell hooks, All About Love (via collardgreensneckbones)
been thinking about this a lot, lately