Learning the Lay of the Land

I looked out over the mountain of your shoulder blade, the warm light peeking over its strong, smooth curve. It was the intimate sunrise about which I had dreamed of seeing: I'd heard about this country where I hoped such sights were possible, but secondhand information and reading books of yore were no substitute. I…

Walk the Line…Or Not

Ashtanga is a different journey everyday, although the path is the same, akin to my walk to the same studio, every morning. Yet there are nuances to this road, one day it rains and Washington Square Park has a dreary splendour, punctuated by residents walking their dogs and the occasional flash of color from a…