This is how I have seen Pam (at times) for the past 30 years.  We met because she was a photographer whose work  had seen and liked.  I thought, “I want to meet her.”  I did not imagine that I would fall in love, get married and be joyfully with her for nearly 30 years (and counting).

Pam is a brilliant artist, an inspiring, generous and wise life coach, the finest soul and biggest heart I have ever known.  She is my biggest fan, my toughest critic, my most valued partner.  And the love of my life.

This project is engaging our creative spirits in many new ways.  She shot video for me for the first time.  I have taken her photographic images, edited and manipulated them into wildness.  We are still swimming in the deep end after all this time.

She is also helping to support my Indiegogo campaign.  Like I said, big, big heart.

Please join her. She believes this is a delicious project. .

Please DONATE to our Indiegogo campaign.

Thank you!

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This is a most WONDERFUL interview with the WONDERFUL Pam White.  Have a listen!  You will understand her absolute brilliance and heart as a life coach.  She is the REAL DEAL.  You can find her HERE.

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for sale:  “The Messenger”

This toned photograph has a story.  It is a picture of me as the character in my performance  piece, The Messenger.  The character appears in the film clip on the home page of my website.    We shot this photograph in Wellfleet at dawn about 20 years ago.  I still love it.

11 x 14 or 16 x 20 print with charcoal and pencil and text.

You can purchase by contacting me HERE, or with Paypal.

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for sale:  “Body Mine # 7”

Original framed photograph with charcoal and pencil and text.

This week’s price only   $97 plus shipping.

You can purchase by contacting me HERE, or with Paypal.

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for sale:  “Tintoretta”

Signed, limited edition print of a toned photograph by Pam White. 

This print from Highland Studios is 16 x 20 on acid free archival paper, and mounted on foam core, ready for framing.

Cost is $87 + $7 shipping.

Sale price (usually $2500) for the original one-of-a-kind framed photograph:  $1700.  (Price includes shipping.)

You can purchase by contacting me HERE, or with Paypal.

This print is available this week only.

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for sale:  “Shadow”

Signed, limited edition print of a toned photograph by Pam White. 

This print from Highland Studios is 16 x 20 on acid free archival paper, and mounted on foam core, ready for framing.

Cost is $150 + $7 shipping.

Original one-of-a-kind framed photograph:  $2000.  (Price includes shipping.)

You can purchase by contacting me HERE, or with Paypal.

This print is available this week only.

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Last summer Pam and I went to Bedlam Farm to interview Jon Katz for my book, Horse Dancing.  I had been reading his blog posts about Simon, the donkey that he and his wife Maria rescued.  The story he was telling in his blog was about a man who loves and knows dogs stepping, no falling, into the equine world.  I wanted that story to be a part of my book.  His book Rose in a Storm, which I read in a storm, is my favorite animal story of all time.

We have been trying to connect since summer and managed a meeting today in Rhinebeck.  It is interesting to move from a virtual relationship to a physical one.  For me it has been mostly the other way around.  But Jon and Maria have been taking friendly shape for me through their writings – Jon in his Bedlam Farm Journal and Maria in her Wulf Howling blog.  Today Jon, Maria, Pam and I stood outside at the farm where we board our horses.  I had just ridden Capprichio, and he stood with us as if he was hearing and understanding everything.  Interestingly, he was not obsessed with getting his nose in the grass, but kept gazing around the little circle, taking in his human herd.

We talked today about connection and finding and creating community through the internet.  About privacy and what we reveal, and how we control the message.  About what one’s story is and how that is shared.  About sharing an artist’s life in this intimate, anonymous way.

I do not always have a clear sense of my audience, and if it is growing or how much I should care about that.  Mostly, I try to find the thread for the day, the thing that I want to push into and explore.  Today felt like friendship steeping, taking on a richer color and fragrance.  Another beginning.

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Today like every other day
We wake up empty and scared.
Don’t open the door of your study
And begin reading.
Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do
There are hundreds of way to kneel
And kiss the earth.

                                                     Rumi

I have been reading Jon Katz about Valentine’s Week.  This post touched me deeply, because I too live with an artist, and when I see the light shining from her studio windows, my heart leaps.

Lately she has been painting hearts.  They are ecstatic, wildly beautiful.  I have already picked out mine.  “That one,” I said,  “That one is mine.”

2012 marks 26 years together.  That seems an impossible number, and yet there it is.  The years, the days, the minutes are a complicated dance, a beautiful improvisation, a meditation on listening, on moving, on being moved.  Being a love warrior, which mostly means learning to love oneself deeply enough to love another.

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Pam White and our friend Suzanne were talking about pentimento, the practice of over-painting – basically the artist changing his/her mind.  Pam had some examples of her own pentimento on her Google+ page.

That got me to reflecting on the past two days, when i have been directing and making new movement for Xmalia. The process of choreographing, standing back, and then going in and layering in different or denser or richer movement is painterly in a similar way.  Sometimes the hint of a first rendering is there, other times I obliterate it completely, but even so, some trace remains.

Maybe I just like the feeling of the word.  It reminds me of another favorite word, palimpsest, the difference being that in that case the layers of a manuscript or scroll or painting were scraped or washed away, say with milk and oat bran.

I think what I really like is the idea of underlayers – of something earlier either concealed or revealed by what has been put down later.

When I went from being an actor to being a dancer, the actor was still there, shining through in the dances.  Now that I am writing, the dancer is still there, because the words are gestural – like movement to me – they have a physical resonance that I can feel.

And sometimes I have scraped things away – old text, old selves.  More about that in The Journal this week.

I am interested in how you are feeling your layers.  Over-painting or scraping away with milk and oat bran?

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Teaching often brings me into a state of heightened awareness and vigilance for sources and new connections.  I was talking to Pam this morning about how setting up the “Books I Love” page on my site has done this as well.  The idea to post my reading list came from Linda Stone’s site.  I love the way that resources can be passed and shared digitally and physically.

So I am culling, diving into what is old, what is new, what is still exciting. (By the time I finish, all the books will be linked).  I feel as if I have been visiting the attic and the basement of my mind, my library, my study.  The attic is a place of storage and the basement holds a different kind of energy.  I was thinking about the body and the chakras, and the relationship of the supportive holding of the basement to the lighter storeroom of the attic.

When we moved into this house, the attic was what it was originally when it was built in 1790.  Old curved chestnut beams and low ceilings.  The previous owner had put in skylights, and we insulated under the eaves and put in lights.  At first it was a playroom for the kids and held their treasures plus out-of-season clothes.  Now they are in college but the remains of their play is still there:  shelves of children’s books they elected to keep, toys and dolls they have not yet surrendered.  The basement is an old stone cave, and holds the workings of the house.

I like feeling the relationship between the two:  what sits below and above – the roots and the branches –  and feeling the relationship of all of that to my own body.  Because the body is also an archive:  a breathing reservoir of thought and movement, earth and air, above and below.

How are you feeling all (any) of that?

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