On Sunday April 12, 2026 a dear friend passed. Her name was Brittany, and she had been sick for many years. She was also my artistic collaborator. Together, we made a few great things. It used to bother me when people called women muses. Like Twiggy. I thought it was cheesy and reductive. But now, looking back, Brittany was maybe my muse, and I hers. We were two women changing how the other thought about creation. Today is May 11th. Not even a month has passed. I am still grieving. But I am recording the dances I am doing to feel better. 

Brittany was famously blonde. I couldn’t picture her any other way. Even when she lost her hair, she was a blonde. Even when it grew back slightly sandier. I am not blonde. Have never been. But I had this blonde wig in my closet from a bachelorette party. Which is fitting. To me, blonde is feminine. I wanted to step into her role for a little while. Let her live on a little longer through my body. Although I could not do her justice. No one could. 

This project is a conversation between two women. So, I recorded these videos on my phone then re-recorded them using a projector. Instead of shooting from a fixed place, I stood up and moved the camera around. Adjusting my spatial relationship to the “me” on screen helped me develop more of a conversation. Since there is only one woman on screen, since Brittany is not here. But then facing myself on the projector I became two. 

I kept the marginalia of this world intact. My apartment in the background. Some sounds captured while recording. The trill of the waffle maker from the kitchen. Brittany and I both liked a big production: fog, lights, costumes. But this was my first project without her. There is a lot missing, a lot left wanting. 

Process Failure

I did a dance for six minutes and it was mine. 

I recorded it then the file was lost forever. Oh

well. I don’t 

have the skill for baseball. I threw a 9-iron

in the sky – where it went

is anyone’s guess. But I did a balance

for six minutes once, a perfect balance

on demi pointe. But the video

was lost in a fire. I can’t trace

or paint well or even write a novel that sells, 

when it should be easy.

But this one time I stood on demi point on one leg for six minutes

while performing a slow excruciating

grand rond de jambe en l’air and caught it all on tape

because these days no one will believe you otherwise, but I lost

it all in a fire – my skin, my hair, my feet, the video of me

doing grand rond de jambe for six minutes and my ability 

to jeté fouetté arabesque failli fonde écarté en croix, all of it. 

All of my French. I’ll re-enter in another language.

Originally, I didn’t realize this project was going to be about Brittany. Most great losses reveal themselves over time. I was also avoiding staring directly at my sadness. The idea for this project stemmed out of what I thought was an arbitrary ritual.

THEREMIN RITUAL

  1. write a line of poetry

  2. the number of words in the line (W) is how many times you will turn the theremin preset knob

  3. play for W minutes and record it 

  4. dance for W minutes and video tape it

  5. pair the music and movement or not

  6. repeat 

I don’t know how to play the theremin. It’s just been sitting in my closet for a few years. And yet, I was compelled to undertake this theremin project myself—instead of collaborating with someone who knew how to play. The results of my playing are not that interesting. Most of the work here is done by the theremin presets, which at least make it sound kind of cool. But really the presets disguise the most interesting part about this, which is my compulsion to play and my ineptitude. 

MOOG PRESETS

Classic Theremin, Superfat Saw, Eire, Aniwave, In Orbit, Ribbons, Charlie Mute, Elasticmotion, Flutterfly, Ethereal, Wondertron, All Your Bass, Square Wavy, Quiet Time, Evolution, Shaken, Waaahnium, Long Echoes, Strange Stuff, Spin Cycle, Wobblesaw, Frolicking, Ghostly, Organic, Lost in Fog, North Pole, Futurewarz, Omicronprei8, Digitals, Burningchrome, Lo rez, Magic Missile

So, in the process, the theremin music helped inspire the dances, and dancing made me feel a little bit better. Eventually the theremin fell away in the video. I wasn’t sure why I ever had it in this project.

Then, this morning, I remembered that Brittany was the one who gave me the theremin. It’s not like I’d forgotten—she’d sent it to me only a few years ago when I was living alone—I just hadn’t fully remembered. I hadn’t made the connection to the present moment. She used to send me things all the time. She loved to give gifts. Mostly flowers, huge fragrant bouquets in heavy vases. She had impeccable taste in floral arrangements, really. Like I didn’t know flowers could be so beautiful before we’d met. She always had all manner of cut flowers in her apartment, fresh, decaying, or dried. She also sent me a green Diptique candle, an eye massager, a book of David Lynch paintings, a Navage sinus rinse, a coffee table book titled Witchcraft, and some plays. I’m sure some other nice things I’m forgetting. See, even when I remember, I’m still forgetting how much she changed my life. How much she’s still changing it.