Beautiful parent viewing of Ukrainian dancers tonight. My two were pause pause pause trying to find better word than heart-wrenching/poignant/beautiful/special... how to express my feelings watching the 8-year-old smiling away with her lovely gappy teeth and the almost-3-year-old dancing with her group without parental or sisterly escort and doing many of the steps and staying with her group. Not 3! And seeing other kids who have grown and one was a kid a couple of months ago and she is suddenly a teenager. Time is passing and I love them so much and and and... The enormity of our feelings for them, our children, so rarely spoken, needs to be said more, but how?
The kids had fun. The adults, in their hindered way, did too. I danced too. Dancing is fun.
Ecofeminist, inconvenient prophet, artist, activist, cancer survivor, mother. Radical vulnerability on behalf of the collective. Using nakedness—literal+figurative. Processing my pain.
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