Progress. Unframe Art project - incredible.  Ballet Barre in a parking garage - right hand on your shopping cart - two demi plies.... waltz steps down a long stretch of concrete three at a time.  Projecting into HUGE space rather than the confinement of a small studio.  Gentle explorations. Pouring upside down absolutely luscious.  Finding the elevator waiting and wanting the art.  A father and his daughter watching the ballet barre - the daughter mimicing the ballet, knowing smiles, and they must be nuts. Hope to complete a series - working title "where the taggers go". Parking garages, alley ways, the merry go round.  Great to bring humanity into the studio space by venturing out to connect.  Subtlety.  Folding in and out of awareness and performance qualities.  Upstairs to buy one bottle of wine and ever so subtley a gentle plie and an eleve hands on the wooden edge of the sample cart - giggles of course - and queries - how subtle can we be and how can we connect? You have no idea how good it felt to be in performance for 15 minutes against a concrete pole interacting with another.  A long stretch of time in stillness - a subtle shift - fingers finding fingers.  Just that much in just that long and being so utterly honest.   When on stage would one be afforded such an honest luxury. Interesting.  Rules and regulations and dos and don'ts and expectations for studio work and theatre.  In these settings, no such things - opening space for the unexplored. Movement in the spaces beneath where the Dance Wharehouse used to be. Folds of time and touching the memories hanging out in these spaces and bringing them into the now taking space back. A tryst at the poetry writing workshop.  The barrier non-existent, mostly - the poets a part of the choreographic process, a part of dancing, circular and inclusive rather than linear and exclusive.  OMG - she in her blue checked shirt appliqued with a sail boat and a light house moving forward connecting with her bit of poetry - the chameleon - her upper body fully engaged, she sits on her throne and during her solo, with the ensemble making music out of foot stomps and vocalization, she dances and dances with a performance quality that would put many artists to shame. The poets ecstatic, exuberant, inspired, laughing - the kids are out. One afficianado of dance, I see him at all of the free SUMMERDANCE events - he seeks us out after reading the article in the Independent.  And there he sits in his chair, partially crippled, dancing when we dance with curled up hands close to his chest just beneath his chin - exploring gesture, connecting, daring to do what he loves so much to watch.  Little fingers, mice feet, scurrying and exploring. An improvisation with an old cowbody chuckling away.  His inner kid leaping up and exclaiming with his arms, fly, really fly - a little shuffle and tap dance - uttering, copy cat, copy cat... Bringing humanity into the intimate spaces of creating and performing art.  Touching edges I've never touched before.  Working outward to draw inward, taking inward to express outward.  Breathing it in, breathing it out - charged by the coil of mystery in the spaces inbetween.  A downward and ever expansive spiral exploding in the caverns of unconditional love sparking against the edge of the impossible. Namaste & Happy Day, Misa