Stoneroot Residency

One week in early January I had a magical time with Leah Wilks at Stoneroot residency in Ellijay, Georgia. Leah and I have been creative collaborators since 2011, but since we live in different countries, we don’t get to spend as much time working on things together as I wish we did. In this residency, which we dubbed ‘Solo-not-solo,’ we each had the time and space to research our own works with the support, curiosity, accountability, and direction of the other. We shared a physical practice every day, which usually began with a walk (or a snowy run) through the woods followed by shaking, dancing, vocal toning, and exploring possibility together. We also read, cooked, watched TV, and rested. It was strange to be in such a beautiful and cold forest in the Appalachian Mountains as Los Angeles, the city where my mom grew up and where I have family and friends, was (and still is) on fire. My heart was between these two places the whole time, and having the space to process it in and through my body was such a gift.

One hope I have for my all of my performance and choreographic work is that my body holds, mirrors, embodies, confronts, queers, and helps the collective in processing that which cannot be spoken, not because of a failure of language so much as the power of image, movement, and embodied expression. More and more the whole world feels like it’s in a state of emergency, and I know I can’t understand it all, but I must continue to believe in engaging my breath, body, choice, agency, freedom, time, and creativity in processing and supporting us all through the difficult work of being here right now.

May I dance so that others can see their experience in me
May I dance in praise of the trees and slow time
May I dance to mourn all that is lost
May I dance to remember how good it is to dance