Creation, grief, love and care taking surround this work, quiet literally. While not detailed in the track, or in the notes, the shifting of my own world is laced throughout the recording and the list.

clearing as a portal

the break - reset, the break is also a space, and a queue, like a tether keeping you from getting swept up, a protection in the clearing of it all

soothing repetition

grief work

rhythm as soothing, groove as soothing

storm

salt in the earth and tears and oceans

salt for healing

vocal repetitions - repeating the soothing sound; embodied soothing through vocals

repetition and starting over, repetition as starting over

the clearing is an active space, not a space that you can stay

repetition in movement practice to go deeper into movement into embodiment.

something in the chant really spoke to me - clearing, conjuring up community and inviting in community, the chant feels like a reminder - something to keep exploring

Toni Cade Bambara and Toni Morrison have a deep hold over me right now. I am connected with the chant, and I am drawn deep into ‘The Clearing.’ My work with these authors specifically in regard to these concepts started in 2024. clearing n’ salt is a new(ish) sound score layered with audio clips and voice recordings created for my solo rituals of becoming: chaotic reckoning, a.k.a ROB:CHAOS (2024). My mom was moving through the progression of early on set dementia and my grief for her in that journey started in 2020. Still, she wasn’t seemingly nearing end of life anytime soon in 2024.

I listen back to the origin track from ROB:CHAOS, and its strange hearing clips from Donny Hathaway’s For All We Know, the song I selected for the processional for my mothers funeral services, nestled in the chaotic score. Spirit moves in interesting ways, I did not know I would be here grieving, mourning, and amazed everyday, at how I can even stand do anything but wail. Spirit moved through me creatively to make a vulnerable work detailing my own process(es) of becoming, and the chaotic reckoning that engulfed me.

I am still engulfed, and the threshold I am moving through is still chaotic. Less of a reckoning of my own experiences and more of reckoning with grief, deep love, unsurmountable loss, pain and forgiveness. The work transforms and transformed and continues to hold me still. Spirit moves with a knowingness that I do not seek to comprehend. I am grateful for my the way deep listening and surrender became parts of my creative practice. Creation work is Spiritual work (for me), and I will continue to listen as the work and life and grief continue to move.

The chaos is in the audio and also us as movers and We are also still, moments of stillness in the eye. We are the eye and the storm. This ebbs and flows. The chaos was conjured wether through consequence (cause and effect) or calling out/in, or trauma or reckoning; the thresholds we walk through are the crossroads we meet at, those points in our lives where we are healing, changing. When we call and there is response.

The clearing is a living entity, a gathering, a balm, there is chaos there too. The chaotic is not always negative. It is unearthing, destabilizing, it requires grounding rituals, breathing techniques, movement to get through and to be with. Chaos ensues when something we are not seeing needs to be seen, when something we are repressing pushes its self all the way up. Chaos offers clarity in an unclear way. Chaos is a roadmap, like anger, teaching us what we need. Chaos is present in healing.

Healing is necessary for and within rituals of becoming. In that becoming there are flat lines and contentment and there are valleys and peaks, highs and lows. There are moments of force, where the cosmos that has knitted us and the clay that has molded us pull us into new spaces. Same bodies, new beings, same essence, new boundaries.

As we heal and shed and become we continue to align with our Higher Self. Stepping through thresholds requires reckoning in liminality. Non-linear healing. Tending to our inner children, nourishing relationships, falling down and also crying out. The pull of being undone to be remade or having parts unravel to be resewen. Falling and watching the body regenerate new cells, tissue, and skin.

Rituals.

Questions/Prompts (a growing list):

• What is ‘The Clearing’ for you?

• What rituals ground you in the chaos?

🎥: a day in April when the pain was mild and a day before I got really sick
🎶: slippin into darkness - WAR

when I think of improvisation I think of jazz, WE, Black people, people of the African Diaspora are Jazz. We have had to be. We are also hip hop and the blues and gospel and RnB, but we are jazz. We move, live, and adapt as jazz. Our being in places infected and overrun by white supremacy does not allow for otherwise.

i knew was I was jazz in my freestyles and only had access to that improvisation in safe spaces, in spaces that were not attached to proving my worth. improvisation has saved myself. (other things have saved my life, but improvisational movement practice has helped save myself)

improvisation is (one of) my deepest embodied survival memories/strategies passed down, it is (for me) a tool of liberation and methodology for investigation. I had to become jazz, become improvisation - improvisation built my care practices. Improvisation brought me back to my own touch. Improvisation reintroduced me to my hips and spine. Improvisation is helping me heal.

original post date - 8.18.2023

I do not own the rights to this music.

I know there is a difference between conflict and violence.

I know there are multiple genocides going on to varying degrees.

I know that all occupied territories should be free.

I know that there isn’t enough research on fibroids to be told that the size of my fibroids can’t be the cause of my pain.

I know that my pain is real.

I know that I practice care, accountability, listening, communication, and love; that I do the hard work of practicing being in the types of relationships with others that are reciprocal and nourishing.

I know that I have hurt peoples feelings, that I have acted out of fear, that I have lied and hid, and made choices that weren’t the best when figuring it out; I know that I have left friendships silently on more than one occasion for more than one reason.

I know that I have forgiven those who have hurt me, and I have forgiven and actively forgive myself; I know that forgiveness is an ongoing practice.

I know that ableism, capitalism, gender discrimination, trans and homophobia, sexism, and patriarchy are all wrapped up in the same white supremacist heteronormative dream.

I know that we all live in different realities. I know that people who have built their foundation on the narrow idea and imagination we currently live in cling to fear and hatred when that idea, that basis of their reality feels threatened.

I know the work that must be done is relational, personal, interpersonal, communal, with each other and the land and in our environment(s).

I know that I have grown and changed and shed and am constantly becoming.

I know that I am made of love, by love and for love.

🎥: a day in April when the pain was mild and a day before I got really sick
🎶: sixties medley (live) - Marvin Gaye

Having an improvisation based practice has allowed me to chip away and unlearn movement based hierarchy from ‘Dance Institutions’ in which I was ‘under-qualified, underestimated & the underdog’. It has allowed me to get back into my body when processing trauma that has taken me out of my body. It has allowed me to get more comfortable in my body and confident in my movement quality.

My practice is not about getting to something new. I feel like In improvisation classes you can often be pushed to get to something new. I think of my improvisational practice as getting deeper into something. The newness of movement or sameness of movement isn’t my main objective. What the process of improvisation gives me, moves me towards, or releases me from is what I’m after - whether that’s phrase work/written reflection/ tasks/etc. Something lies for me within the repetition of the practice.

I think as Black Queer Movers we (me & my friends at least) understand that improvisation is freestyle is movement exploration and making sure that those are not seen as separate when facilitating open (level) movement/somatic improvisational spaces while ensuring that everyone feels rooted in the knowledge of their own bodies be crucial.

original post date - 8.12.2023

I do not own the rights to this music.

i wish i could lie and say fear doesn’t get to me, its not something i feel; but that wouldn’t be me. it took a lot of unlearning, time, and therapy to learn how to practice acknowledging my fears rather than submitting to them or allowing them to shape my life.

my biggest fears growing up were rejection, punishment, and abandonment from loved ones for being myself. these fears manifested into large silences and avoidance when it came to sharing how i felt, people pleasing at the expense of myself, and the minimization of harm. i prolonged friendships that were manipulative and not reciprocal, didn’t know how to set boundaries, and struggled deeply with self acceptance, self worth, and self love. i was so afraid that i wasn’t allowing myself to be myself. this allegiance to fear coupled with on going mental health struggles came to an emotional head where i had some tough choices to make. i chose the challenging path of wellness (*The Salt Eaters - Toni Cade Bambara*), healing, and acceptance. practicing care, the bravery that authenticity requires, and being in relationship to and with others, and how i communicate, all help to mitigate my fears.

in the last few years my fears have been: not having enough money, not giving my all to my art, ignoring my heart, giving into a scarcity mindset, and assault - the constant targeting of Black, Queer, Femme, GNC and Trans people being unalived, accosted in bathrooms, and attacked by legislation is not new and also feels (and is) compounded across (my) intersection(s). these fears haven’t overtaken my life, or stopped me from living. they have however required me to deepen my practices of self regulation, creative discipline, and abundance.

to be honest, i’ve never gotten used to peoples stares, whether it be the police or the policing public. its weird to have eyes glued to your body, your skin, your clothing, your expression. i do not get used to the compulsion of others need to consume or make legible, and that is what most of the stares feel like; a desire to consume/compute/make binary. I am not digestible, and seek no legibility. this consumption, these stares, and this desire for legibility boil down to perception.

some of my early adolescent poetry was around my struggle with the constrictive feeling of labels and the inescapability of the perception of others. while at current i feel more expansive and reject the boxes colonization clings to in order to define me, i have gotten comfortable labeling myself (non-binary, trans, queer boi). perception, however, is still a struggle, not so much the act of being perceived but the actions that fall in line with others perceptions. the microaggressions that loom so large, the energetic differences between intentional and passive aggressions, the refusal of respect which requires no understanding or agreeance, the expectation of silence in work spaces where harm is done, the delusion of entitlement that breeds relationship hierarchy with biological family members, and the consistent minimization of harm. while there is always space for giving grace, allowing others to learn, make mistakes, and continue to practice offering you respect; the key word here is practice.

i am actively in practice.

original post date - 8.11.2023

I do not own the rights to this music.

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something other than what has been the constant motion. still moments of motion, captured breath. back and forth and not back and forth. adjusting, shifting, choices. i am here and here. swirling, pulling up, spreading out, lunging, pausing. trying to remember to check in and check out and choosing presence and motion. light processing. backlogged and repetitive, and illegible. trying, doing, watching things slip and feeling fully into support. thankful for support. cut off, talked over, misheard and trying again. more communication. movement communication/movemunication and breaks. lots of exhales, sounds, rough sleep, love notes, cuddles. plan making, surrendering. exhaustion, surprise, supporting. living. living fully in the face of constant bombardment, rejection, hatred and ignorance. uncertainty. alive. alive and full of love. dancing alive.

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deep inside of the messiness of this life. taking deep breaths, finding stillness. this has been a long time coming, a return to a different practice of vulnerability, and a place to archive process. nervous, encouraged, excited, here; here in all that here is.