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Showing posts from October, 2014

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Heart attack serious as  No sugar  I want to live Adagio to Beethoven opus 131

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Something in the air in Provincetown wakes me up and takes me on a brilliant dance following a brilliant weekend. See awdlife.blogspot.com for the stories concerning the serious magic that happened to us this weekend. I went with an old standby this morning:  Missy Elliot, this is not a test! Timbaland beats, boy! At one point I passed a group of lesbians (this is women's week in P town) and they all started dancing with me. Suddenly I was in the club, bumping! Another butch lesbian I passed on the street smiled and gave me a hip bump as I passed. Love this town.

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So often in this life you see yourself in a cracked mirror. Because the news, or society, maybe even the person you love most, is staring back at you in anger. What you see in the mirror is cracked so it is difficult not to feel cracked yourself, not to reflect back a broken self. So you go get your mirror clean, or bring things into it with you, like azaleas and peonies and swans. Or dancing on a jetty in Provincetown listening to Michael Franti sing "I'm alive I'm alive i'm alive". It can take a while to clean your mirror, maybe your whole life. I think of that experiment that one pseudo-scientist did with the shape of molecules in water when you give them love as opposed to when you insult them, ugly chaos compared to the beautiful intricate symmetry. Maybe that experiment was a sham, as some claim, but I swear I can feel it happening inside of me sometimes. This was on the outside of a house I passed. Heart breaking, 3 of this person's kids died you

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Radio took me on a mountain trip to Japan in 1959. Started out with a trip idyllic, then fell back into predatory dreams, for I am also the little fish, a story 1 billion years old. What kind of dance is this?

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Two yellow leaves on a stem twirl down perfectly vertical, spinning with one leg out like a figure skater. It stopped my breath with its evanescent beauty. It was my reward for getting out of bed today, a difficult task which took a lot of will, especially as it is cold and drizzling and I am not feeling well. So worth it!     Church of NY, shuttered     Listening to this great album

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This morning walking as much as dancing, with the little stutter step to go with the beat, almost like skipping, but more panache.  Thinking about Adam Gopnik's story about walking in the recent New Yorker. Taking it to another level.  The beat was steady, as I was listening to a mix, NPR's Recommended Dose, underground dance music show, for August and September.  The steady beat gave me momentum to ride. Made for a nice magic air carpet.

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Live Versus Dead (for Truck Darling and Eric McCully) -soundtrack Alt-J newness- Ran through the roses in the cemetery.  "I couldn't see or hear her But I could tell she was smiling By the way she was singing" This Screams Fall Screams orange against green.  Loud against serene.  Cold against warm.  Soft against hard.  Life against art. 

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I was trying to form a thought in words this morning when it conveniently showed up on my wall in the form of a quote by Gertrude Stein. "What is the use of a violent delightfulness if there is no pleasure in not getting tired of it?"  That was my mantra as I sustained the delight this morning.  Listening to morning electronic mix on spotify. Good enough. Mere existence! I love this girl I've never met. Selfie etched in camera 

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Up Roosevelt, late night. After Almost 3 weeks of not dancing. Way too long. Every day undanced is a day less full. getting back into the swing, turning the downward spiral upside down. Listening to the new Prince: art official age. Also new Aphex Twin: Syro. Both suitable to the task.  Dance-by shot of Indian kids, apprpriately ablur.