So Many Colors and So Much Beauty

It’s a beautiful sunny day in May.  I am seven and a half years old. My first year of school is almost over.  We had the finals last week, and now it’s just day trips, games outside, and going over the summer homework.  I am the best at reading in my class, because I can read 120 words a minute, measured by a little cute sand clock. Continue reading “So Many Colors and So Much Beauty”

The Teacher

DOT is a great teacher.

I danced with him first in Oakland, just over a year ago.  Was nearly run over.  I had been on a lookout for a tango teacher.  Right there, in one tanda, he challenged me so clearly and to the point that I asked him to take me as a student next time I saw him.

During my first lesson, we danced a little bit; he had me do solo work. Walk and ochos weren’t terrible.  Boleos were, not surprisingly.  We started working on standing my ground.  On the side step first, the right side easier than the left.  He gave me homework. Continue reading “The Teacher”

Opening up through words, letters, and whatever else comes up

I like words and the worlds they create. I grew up hiding there, behind books with words in them. At home, to be good was to be quiet.

I like handwritten letters.  I remember writing them since I was about 7 years old.  Writing home from grandma’s or the camp in the summer.  Writing to the best friends who left, one after another.  Writing home and to the best friends after I’ve left. Continue reading “Opening up through words, letters, and whatever else comes up”