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”

Stories are Monsters. Part 1 (of 3)

This is Part 1 of a series about the stories we tell ourselves.  Except, the phrase “we tell ourselves” understates their monstrosity.  As if we can just choose to tell them.  As if we can choose to not tell them, just like that.  As if we can always see them for what they are – or ever. A cannon detail, the Tower of London Continue reading “Stories are Monsters. Part 1 (of 3)”

The Bright Stars

A note from July.

Last week, one of the inspiring toastmasters in our club announced that he would be moving on to other opportunities. This Monday morning, I’ve learned that one of the bright stars that shot through my early adulthood fell Continue reading “The Bright Stars”