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Notes on Practice: Flying in Formation

At Riis Park, the solitary birds are my first dance partners this morning.  Before long, however, I join with an entire flock, soaring as they soar, holding my arms out …

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Notes on Practice: Moving Chaos| The Survival Art of Our Time

It felt good to be in the collective field, very much in sync, and at the same time, very much on the high edge of Chaos—the rhythm of our time. To some extent, the gem of personal achievement has lost its luster recently; and I find myself moving more than ever in the collective field. The ability to actually move around inside of Chaos—conscious, aware and even with direction—are skills I hope to build on.

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Notes on Practice: Sacred Places, Otherworldly Fog & Cheerful Good Byes

Otherworldly fog took over the landscape on Monday. After dropping my six-year-old son, Simon, off at camp in Dunhill, I went to the unmarked beach again. Suffering from heavy anxiety, I paused to look out over the vast beach from the top of the steep cement stairs, and the line of vision was severely blocked by the heavy white cloud.

Exploring and seeking an inspiring place to dance, I walked west, passing several beaches…

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Notes on Practice: Falling Rocks & Strong Currents

Yesterday we woke to blue skies for the first time since we have been in Ireland. After dropping my son, Simon, off at camp, I set out to explore the local beach again, hoping to find a place to dance. Given the fair weather, there were several people enjoying the beach and I didn’t feel comfortable dancing there. Because it is exceedingly dangerous, I’ve sworn off the unprotected cliff path that departs from the east end of the beach, despite its compelling beauty. I spotted a different cliff path at the west end of the beach and decided

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Notes on Practice: Things to Climb & Games of Invention

I was overly optimistic in putting on a bathing suit. During a brief glimpse of blue, we rushed to get to the sea, hoping for at least a few moments of beach fun. As it was, the blue was enclosed again by white sky long before we made it to the beach, but we decided to explore anyway. We found a place to park near Bonmahon Beach in Co. Waterford, Ireland and set up the sandy path to the sea. I shivered with

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Notes on Practice: Ruined Castles, Faery Doors & Patchworked Fields

While everyone in New York is suffering through a heat wave, I have been wearing sweaters and still shivering. This is my seventh day in chilly Ireland, traveling with my six-year-old son, Simon. First, we explored the astonishingly beautiful western region of Connemara. In Connemara, there is water everywhere. Lush vegetation goes all the way to the edges of every puddle, lake and river, giving the impression that everything is extremely full. Rock juts up through the green in impressive, unpeopled, ancient mountains. Rolling fields patchworked in different greens and hemmed by squared stone walls stretch all the way to the ocean’s edge. Textured layerings of

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