The day my week rushes towards and sags after is Tuesday…after supper I lose myself in a book to make the time go faster…
When I come to the front of the line, nervousness flutters in my throat but the moment I skip forward it dissolves. I curtsy to my partner… I am flying, whirling and spinning… I imagine I am full of light. It cascades from my eyes and smile, swooshing off my limbs like flickering fireflies.
March 1996. St. Vincent. Logos II.
Excerpts from my writing on Scottish dancing on Logos II.