Macabre


The body speaks and speaks clearly, more honestly and often in silence it is much easier to catch an impulse. What breaks through and wants to be uncomfortable, painful, poisonous, comes out and dances.  

The dance is blind, the dance in silence, broken, awkward, but forming the language and its blissful revelation.

The body for me has become an exit into sound and teaches me to sound like all this corroded flesh, breaking, heavy.  A body brought to the stone of ritual offerings and perfecting them and never able to go out before burning.


Dance out the darkness, dissolve.


The throat is filled with calls.

Mister Moon, hello