Wiggle down memory lane with me?

5-ish-year-old little Dirt and their 11-ish-year-old sister prepare for a dance recital, which was held on the same stage that their mother performed in musicals on as a child.

When I look at this picture, I feel the humid heat of early summer in New England and hear the low din of excited conversation amongst fellow dancers, subdued by the sound of strategically placed box fans.

I smell the slight waxy scent of lipstick mixed with the sickeningly sweet aroma of spilt juice box and hairspray.

I feel the itchy scratch of sequins hugging my collarbone and the momentary relief of silky polka-dotted fabric just below.

I hear muffled musical tones accompanied by rhythmic thump thump of baselines attempting to keep up with my own beating heart, amplified with each opening of the heavy metal high school band room door.

This is a couple of New England kiddos’ dance recital prep in the late 80s/early 90s, a large part of my life for at least 10 years.

I began choreographed dancing at age three and a half.
I stopped choreographed dancing at age fourteen.
My body is not three and a half or fourteen anymore.
It has been a wild journey since then.
I’m pretty sure fourteen-year-old me was just tired
of taking directions, annoyed with sitting still
while others painted a version of me that
they wanted the world to see
(note my expression in the image above 😏).
Ultimately I am glad that fourteen-year-old me
made the decision to stop.
What happened since then has been
a gradual coming back
to this body, this home.
Remembering how to trust.
This body.
This home.

The above excerpt was taken from an Instagram post I wrote earlier this year. To watch the accompanying video and read the entire post, click the button below.

PLAY has often been at the core of who I am and is embedded in the gifts I bring to this existence.

Thank you lil baby three and a half year old Dirt, for enjoying what you could given the circumstances you were presented with, and thank you fourteen year old Dirt for closing the door on something that wasn’t working for us anymore, making way for so much more than you could have ever imagined.

I can still feel BOTH of you here.

I am grateful for the experiences little Dirt had - the dance lessons, the friendships, the play, the costumes, the recitals.

And also am so grateful for NOW…

WELCOME TO THE DANCEGROUND!

NOW I'm writing to you about an idea that was birthed during my coaching certification class in the Spring of 2023 while I was brainstorming "workshops" that I could facilitate.

While I'm not super into the “face on a screen teaching you a skill" type of workshop, I DO love to play and dance. You're shocked, I know ;)

Around the same time, I started doing some "Lives" on Instagram where I just danced around in my living room much like I have when attending freeform or ecstatic dance events.

In early Spring 2023, I finally made it out to freeform dance in a local park, for the first time since pre-pandemic life.

Ironically, that was the day I realized that my intense symptom flares were largely due to the super bloom happening in the desert here. Whomp whomp.

I spent the next couple of months mostly indoors, sitting with some uncomfortable and painful emotions as well as allowing joy and rest and pleasure, finding a different rhythm to my days. 

Dancing and movement are two tools in my clown car of a toolbox, and I found myself utilizing both with frequency while hunkering down indoors this Spring - thanks 2020 for the practice run of sheltering-in-place.

Soooo naturally when I was thinking of workshop ideas, I was like "Uh yeah, I want to do a zoomy zoom freeform dance type thing."

And so… Danceground was born!

Here is your invitation to join us in this wiggly, come-as-you are, monthly dancing and movement-based online space. One part dance/movement, one part grounding mediation, and one kickass playlist each month, the

Danceground is a space where all bodies and abilities are welcome to participate.

Want to dance in a chair or lie down on the ground wiggling around?
Want to keep your camera off and practice stillness as you listen?
Want to take us on a walk or in the car with you?
BRING IT.
It's all welcome here.

As a human that lives in a queer and disabled body, I strive to create dance and movement spaces that are accessible and am open to feedback about how to create safer and enjoyable spaces for all who wish to participate.

Want to read what other humans are saying about Danceground?

Click and scroll below!

Ready to join us for our next Danceground playdate?

Sunday, August 20th from 10-11am PST

Click the button below to sign up to become a Patron, which gives you instant access to all previous Danceground recordings and playlists as well as the zoom link for this Sunday, a ton of my poetry and other poetic musings, and some creative and interactive opportunities through our “Word of the Month” astrology-based reflection.

Did I mention you can 7-day free trial all of this?!?