When I was small, my mother used to be a Balinese dance teacher. She can no longer dance now (due to some problems with her back) and can oft times be found simply sleeping or tending to her cats. Dancing was the one way that she was able to integrate her culture, her mind and her body (which is now damaged). When I dance, my mother is close to me because I embody what she cannot. I am close to love and small remnants of my Indonesian culture. I channel this and articulate through my fingers, arms, legs and full body. It flows effortlessly.

Today, I called her (actually in the middle of writing this). I called to tell her that I love her. I called to tell her that I honor her is through my dance. By dancing, I honor the things my mother can no longer do through my own movement and embodiment. Though dancing can be a very solitary experience She is right with me, whenever I dance.

Her story lives in my movement.