Mother’s Day

My mother lived to a ripe young age of 62. I found solace in choreographing this solo, now 13 years ago. It had taken me four years after her death to get around to my real feelings, I guess, as she died in 1994. I recall the night well when I performed this solo at the Cunningham Dance Studio, in NYC.

My mother recalled a dream to me before her death that had to do with seeing me in a chair. I told her that I had had a dream that she died. She said to me, “Sometimes dreams about death are not always about the person dying.” In the text I wrote for the piece, I replied to that by saying, “… but sometimes they are.” As dreams are the window to our soul, I’ll dedicate this Mother’s Day to the souls of all mothers who have passed.