Dance Me to the End of Love

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We converged on New York City from every corner of the globe: from college dance departments in Ohio and Michigan and Minnesota, and conservatories in Florida and California and North Carolina; from Athens and Stockholm and Tel Aviv, and tiny towns in Brazil and Ecuador and Italy, all of us sweeping into Manhattan, that sliver of an island, from the outer boroughs for morning class. In our bags: cut-off sweatpants and bottles of water, tape to bandage split and bleeding toes, matches to soften the tape, apples and bags of tamari almonds from the Park Slope Food Coop, sports bras and tubes of mascara, gum, cigarettes, wallets full of cash from late nights working in bars and restaurants, paperbacks and copies of New York Magazine, and iPods for long subway rides. The bags weighed 10, 15 pounds.

My piece about dance, injury, chronic pain and identity is up on Longreads! Click here to read on.

One thought on “Dance Me to the End of Love

  1. Great piece. BRAVO. I hope the family visit was huge success.

    Love you

    From: abigail rasminsky Reply-To: abigail rasminsky Date: Monday, January 8, 2018 at 12:59 PM To: iMac 24 Subject: [New post] Dance Me to the End of Love

    WordPress.com Abigail Rasminsky posted: ” We converged on New York City from every corner of the globe: from college dance departments in Ohio and Michigan and Minnesota, and conservatories in Florida and California and North Carolina; from Athens and Stockholm and Tel Aviv, and tiny towns in B”

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