In the Cowboy Hall of Fame Museum of Western Art in Oklahoma City, I saw a simple drawing of two native Women sitting on the ground, side by side, each facing in opposite directions. There was a strong feeling of solid connection between them and of the strong quiet power that these women possessed. The idea of the women carrying the care of the future generations came to me. The Grandmother's dance came about towards the end of a full length work needing a pivotal moment of transformation. These Grandmothers were able to connect over same concerns and create a wind storm of change to the world. The entire dance remained with the Grandmothers sitting side by side on the ground.
Women Carrying Water
Augustus St. Gaudens created a relief of a procession of Greek Women carrying jugs. He loved parades and processions, as do I. The grace that comes from labor that a body continuously repeats is dance. Much traditional dance the world over, has deriven from the physical work at hand. In line with many painters, this is a favorite aspect of my choreographic vocabulary.
The gathering of women at the village water hole and gathering around water and the many ways in which this precious element is transported has caught my interest. We performed this procession in Cornish, New Hampshire, where St. Gaudens had his home, as did Maxfield Parish. The light that embraced our procession caught the colors and startling light that Parish himself captured in his paintings.

Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth brought me to think about what it’s like if we are lacking something important. Concern for how gadgets and the web of
communication that is with us at all times have taken us so far away from being present led me to connect to Christina’s world. As a young adult I made a decision to increase the use of my senses for the rest
of my life. I imagine and dance what Christina notices there in the field by herself, not able to walk away. The entire dance is done with her back facing the audience. She hears something, and we see her turn to find it and see her satisfaction upon recognizing a certain bird. She notices a clover blossom growing within reach and picks it to pull each honeyed cluster of petals into her mouth to taste that tiny sweetness. It ends with her sensing something strange and unknown coming near.
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