The way you cut your meat reflects the way you live.
I've always felt that complement of opposites: body and soul, solitude and companionship, and in the dance studio, contraction and release, rise and fall.
I'm moved by contraries, by opposites, the strength that was my mother's eyes, the beauty of my father's hands.
So many people dwell on negativity and I've survived by ignoring it: it dims your light and it's harder each time to turn the power up again.
Excellence is the name of the game.
I was a protege; by the age of 10, I was studying with ballet choreographer Anthony Tudor in a class of adults.
I have been guilty of watching Westerns without acknowledging that Native Americans have gone through the same madness as African Americans. Isn't it extraordinary that sometimes the most offended have not seen others being offended?
It's not about having things figured out, or about communicating with other people, trying to make them understand what you understand. It's about a chicken dinner at a drive-in. A soft pillow. Things that don't need explaining.
Curiosity is an asset mostly frittered away.
With every glance I take in the 'negative-positive' of existence and the inevitability of impermanence to its glowing limits. Alone and haunted, I trust my inner eye, the heart. Everything, absolutely everything, becomes visible. Appearances, disappearances, nothing seems of secondary importance to me.
Love comes in every color, but the fact is. . . I never needed 50 Shades of Grey, Just turn the lights down low and give me every shade of blackness.