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A Note To Self


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As I slug my way out of the media driven despair that would surely seek to undo me, I am more resolute than ever that the sanctify of this glorious art form - danse la fleur exquisite - be preserved in all of it's power and wonder. I am, afterall, something of an ambassador in that regard, even if it is just "little old me" sounding the chimes of this freedom.  I refuse to "feed" on a diet of fear and loathing. If the argument culture would show me disgust, I will show them Osipova. If they would parade before me their intimidation, I will show them Semionova in New York. If they would seek that I dishonor and become contentious with my fellow man to whom I have never been properly introduced, I will show them Wendy Whelan in Agon. Therefore, I will not come down from this "montagne d'espoir ... cette forme d'art glorios". For mine eyes have seen the glory.

Edited by altongrimes
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