Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones

wild play

I am really excited about teaching this workshop.  For one thing, I love the Boston Dance community.  I have deep, old roots in Boston, and every time I go back there, I am reminded of how much that city and those dancers and audiences have given me, and how much of myself I poured into the community.

This workshop is a chance for me to play with some of the brightest dancers and choreographers around and to bring some of the things that excite me about dance and dance-making home.  I have spent my evenings up here in New Hampshire brainstorming, and I have a delicious couple of afternoons planned.

One of my great inspirations was the brilliant Bessie Schonberg, and I still have notes from the workshops and residencies that I did with her as mentor.  Another is the great Robert Dunn, and I have those notes too.  Both of them took me out into the deepest creative waters and let me find my own strokes, my own way of diving and floating.  I thank them all the time.

So dancers, choreographers, directors, improvisers, join me in Cambridge!

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after the storm

We were battened down in New Hampshire on Monday.  Tuesday was rainy and at times sunny with beautiful rainbows.  Tomorrow is back to the business of campaigning.

For many, though, there will not be a back to business for some time.  My heart goes out to the residents of the big cities of New Jersey, to my coastline friends in Massachusetts, and to all the places that have been flooded by Sandy. Last year it was my friends in Vermont who needed our prayers

It is heartening to see President Obama taking charge and Governor Christie of New Jersey being so generous and appreciative of his efforts.  This is how I would like it to be all the time, with no disaster required for civility.

dia de los muertos

Paula Josa-Jones in Ghostdance, photo Pam White

On October 30, it is 19 years since my father passed.  An impossible number.  I was living in Mexico, developing choreography with Mexican and American dancers called Ghostdance, based on the images and stories of the Dia de los Muertos.  My mother called and said that he was slipping into a coma, the result of organ failure due to his leukemia.  I flew home and arrived in time to feel the last voluntary movement he would ever make.  “I love you Daddy, I said,” and squeezed his hand.  He squeezed mine, and then fell deeper into a coma from which he would not emerge. I knew that he had been waiting for me.

It astonishes me that I still feel him to be so present.  That has never changed.  I can feel the great outlines of his humor, his warmth, his beauty.  I remember his hands, the way he walked, the little details of his physical presence.  All the other stuff that we fought over, all the battles that seemed so important – so very life and death – have dissolved, rinsed away, leaving the elemental part:  love, connection, appreciation.

 

running backwards

I have noticed that the font that Mr. Romney is using for the signage for his Ohio campaign stops has a distinctly retro, nostalgic feel.  A subliminal pull toward the past – the 30’s, 40’s or 50’s.  The era of pin up girls, aprons, June Cleaver and big gas-sucking cars unhampered by pesky fuel economy regulation. An era that is pre-Stonewall, pre-Roe v. Wade, pre-the repeal of anti-micegenation laws.  You know, back to a time when white men ran the world.  No questions asked.  We women of a certain age remember it too well.

Running backwards is exhausting and ultimately a physical impossibility.  Looking over your shoulder is a good way to get a neck ache.  America is not a country that moves backwards in the direction of restricting or reducing civil liberties.  We leave that to countries like Iran, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia.  We are a country that is founded on principles of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  That includes choice about our bodies, our health and who we choose to love.

Forward.