I am rushing in to speak to Jill McCracken's class about the sex worker literary canon. Then, to last session of spring semester with Pace. The girls are doing a performance art today. Really, they are short monologues that resemble the fault in our stars, but that is okay too. Then, special needs trust lawyer, then, burlesque client. Then, packing the Chihuahua and my sloppy performance bodywork outline for the open embodiments conference in Tucson. Things. Doing things. It is terrifying. And only occurs to me to really enjoy them at odd moments, when I am half-asleep.
, where this blog lives now. because it can be read and posted to through that app, one-handed, on my back, by a body of water, or in the cool olive green light above my mattress. This is articulation my spine had not dreamed of before. Tweets by @thebodypoetik
My blog lived on Tumblr for a minute
because it is so much easier to access from my phone. fallinginrealtime.tumblr This is the feed. No, I don't like it. I can't add another virtual box. I'll make due with Twitter.