Welcome Home

We made it. T and I bought a house and moved in! It's been a little lonely, moving to yet another new community. But something has shifted for me this week. Just today, I was bringing in the mail, the trash can, the recycling bins, the sky is overcast and the air is breezy and chilly, and I was looking out at our forest, thinking "This is home." It has been very windy over the last week and our forest has dropped most of its leaves. Lots of tall alder trees with bare branches. I spent a little time in town today, browsing at the local artisans' shop, checking out home repair books from the library, and eating an amazing scone while sipping fantastic coffee at The Monkey Tree, which, by the way, will be closing for good on December 27. I have only been in there three times now, but I am so sad that such an amazing bakery is closing its doors and before my father-in-law will ever get to try its goodness! Two nights ago, T and I finished putting together our dining room table. We obtained this beautiful piece of furniture off Craigslist for free. The legs were a little unstable, so we filled the holes with wood putty, re-drilled, and put them back together. Such a small project that fills us with a sense of accomplishment! I am looking forward to serving our first Thanksgiving meal in our new home on our beautiful table. Today I feel hopeful and grateful to live in this home and to be part of the Vashon Island community.

Finding a place called home

I am in the process of thinking about developing a new choreography. One that explores themes of displacement. Many people around the world are displaced from their homes by war, natural disasters, foreclosures, or by choice. What do we cling to when we are displaced? What gives us a sense of who we are and where we belong? How do we make “home” when we are immersed somewhere else? I want to explore ideas of belonging, determination, persistence, coping, longing.

I am inspired by my recent research on refugees in Afghanistan and Pakistan as well as my own relocation from San Francisco to Seattle. Their displacement is much more violent than my own. Yet there are some human similarities: yearning for familiar routines, familiar surroundings, familiar faces. In no way is my displacement by choice the same as their displacement by war. Yet can we find common emotions in our disparate circumstances? I am interested in the themes that link disparate people, using the language of movement to express our common humanity.

Do you have a story of displacement or relocation in your life? How do you answer the above questions for yourself?