Ms. Houston.

Never to be forgotten.

Quel'qes mots et plus des images

The move to New York is looming, the hesitancy to leave NOLA is growing.
Essentially I have a free pass into NYC, but am having trouble leaving
what I have come to know as a home and a family here. Starting the process
over is not very appealing. However, I will do it because I owe at least
that much to myself. And of course, as always, there is the guy I found.
Who is sweet and charming, and understands my schedule, but who I have
to leave after finding him two weeks ago. There is my fantastic house in
uptown, across from an old movie house and all else I've come to love.
Audubon Park full of live oaks, one a.m. runs on St.Charles avenue. Taxi
rides at seven am home from the quarter. Hot Toddies at the Columns Hotel
and fries fried in duck fat from Delachaise. A lot to miss, but hopefully
a lot to find. We shall see.






Words have been sparse lately.

Baloon Fiesta

I miss waking up to cold air, eating breakfast burritos and seeing hundreds of balloons in the sky.

I once turned into a polar bear made of light

les temps passe

I studied dance when I was small and it still has a physical hold on me.
The stretching was my favourite, followed by the bar. I was horrible
at floor work and never got close to partnering. I remember older
people watching me stretch and making comments about youth and
flexibility, which I can now fully comprehend. I've not had a session
of floor bar in about a year now, which means all the knots and stifness
of graduate study will take at least a week of daily work, coaxing is
not allowed. It is a whole lot of concentrated effort in getting your
muscles to remember what they are capable of besides retaining
tension. Still, I doubt I will ever be able to get back to where these
kids are now. It makes me smile though to know inside, to have a
memory of what it feels like.






[Vaganova School of Ballet]