As the crowdfunding campaign for this project drew to a close, I allowed spirit to be my guide. This short video, introducing the Touchstone of Spirit, was recorded last January, and I shiver to think of everything that has transpired since then.
At Burning Man in 2017, I found myself reading tarot cards as a part of Circus Combustus. Our camp sat next to the Esplanade, the main inner road that rings the temporary city in the middle of Nevada's Black Rock Desert.
"And there was a huge explosion," my little chapbook reads, "which, as you know, is the quickest way to get things done. The explosion was not the beginning-- just the next change . . . We are all divisions of it, down to an elemental level. We change it changes itself."
Several days before Halloween, which is a delightful way to begin a story, I received a question. Onça’s message asked why I believed that we, as a subculture of dancers, have felt drawn to incorporating a womanly sacredness into our lives. And the question cut to the heart of the maze of words I’ve been walking lately.