What is seen. What is felt.

Dearest Dancers,

We’re drawing close to what will hopefully result in big changes for our country. Of course I refer to the election on Tuesday. There’s a certain amount of anxiety in the field right now. Can you feel it? And what are you doing with it? How are you managing? Today, I hiked with a dear friend. It soothed me to be in nature, to witness the beauty of blue sky, majestic trees, and water to the horizon, reflecting the sparkly sun. The combination of the gorgeous view and the exquisite company filled me up. We were sitting together, overlooking the ocean when we were delighted to spot a whale spout. Minutes later, I thought I could see something large swimming in the water, so I pointed it out to my friend. She said, “Sweetie, that’s a boat.” Yeah, maybe I do need glasses. What occurs to me is that I thought I was seeing something really special, but then I laughed when I discovered it was just a boat. My understanding of what I was seeing shifted and the magic evaporated. I wonder where else that happens in life. How might I shift my perspective, shift my mindset to more readily see the beauty, wonder, and magic of the world. . . .yes, even during these challenging times. As we walked back to the car together, we paused and simply took in the stunning view that surrounded us. And we let that beauty sink in, to let the joy of the moment be celebrated as a felt sensation in the body. Yes, I need more joy right now and perhaps you do too. I need to see what’s good and pure and beautiful in the world and I need to mark it, to take it in. I was so grateful for my time with my friend today. Nature, movement, and connection are definite mood enhancers for me. I hope you’re getting what you need right now, that you can find a slice of joy in the day and celebrate it. . . .and then notice how it feels in the body.

Tomorrow, my slice of joy will be dancing with you via Zoom. Yes, I’d much prefer to see you, to hug you, to sweat with you on the dance floor in Sausalito, but this is what we have right now. I’m grateful that I get to see you. Loving the spotlight activity on zoom. Brings me joy!

Speaking of joy, my heart does happy somersaults to tell you that tomorrow our beloved Lori Saltzman will be holding the space for us, providing the soundscape, and guiding us in our dance journey. I hope to see you there.

Here’s the link:

And here’s a beautiful poem that I know I’ve shared before, but I thought of it today, high up on the cliff overlooking the ocean, when I realize the magical and mysterious being I imagined seeing swimming in the water, was actually just a boat.


Monet Refuses the Operation

By Lisel Mueller

Doctor, you say there are no haloes

around the streetlights in Paris

and what I see is an aberration

caused by old age, an affliction.

I tell you it has taken me all my life

to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,

to soften and blur and finally banish

the edges you regret I don’t see,

to learn that the line I called the horizon

does not exist and sky and water,

so long apart, are the same state of being.

Fifty-four years before I could see

Rouen cathedral is built

of parallel shafts of sun,

and now you want to restore

my youthful errors: fixed

notions of top and bottom,

the illusion of three-dimensional space,

wisteria separate

from the bridge it covers.

What can I say to convince you

the Houses of Parliament dissolve

night after night to become

the fluid dream of the Thames?

I will not return to a universe

of objects that don’t know each other,

as if islands were not the lost children

of one great continent. The world

is flux, and light becomes what it touches,

becomes water, lilies on water,

above and below water,

becomes lilac and mauve and yellow

and white and cerulean lamps,

small fists passing sunlight

so quickly to one another

that it would take long, streaming hair

inside my brush to catch it.

To paint the speed of light!

Our weighted shapes, these verticals,

burn to mix with air

and change our bones, skin, clothes

to gases. Doctor,

if only you could see

how heaven pulls earth into its arms

and how infinitely the heart expands

to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

With an ever-expanding heart,


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