I broke a bone for the very first time on July 27, 2023. The tale of how I was betrayed by gravity and gifted a distal radius fracture is pretty silly, all things considered.
It's been a year since I started ballet at age 30 with little more than a handful of bad habits embedded into muscle memory. Here's what a year of ballet has taught me.
In this blog post, I try to answer the question that was posed to me the other day at a ballet studio, "why are you still wearing a mask?" While the question was not asked kindly at the time, I decided to answer that same question here, as if it had been asked in good faith.
This March, I share with my patrons an attempt at a short piece of autofiction (fictionalized autobiography). My goals are to experiment with polyphony and scene transitions between overlapping memories.
I'm writing about chronic pain today, because the last six months have brought about some big, big changes, and it's been a lot to take in.
This is a promise that nothing that has come before now has ruined my body. This is a promise that when I can't help hating my body: it's okay. And not a sign that I am defective.
Recently, a friend of mine and I were discussing our various health issues, and commiserating how it's slowly, over the past decade, infected everything in our lives. Like a small shadow that hangs