I Think Of The Security Of Cages.

I Think When People Begin To Tell Their Stories, Everything Changes, Because Not Only Are You Legitimized In The Telling Of Your Story And Are You Found, Literally, Like You Matter, You Exist In The Telling Of Your Story, But When You Hear Your Story Be Told, You Suddenly Exist In Community And With Others.

People Are More Afraid To Love Than They Are To Kill.

For Many Years Now, I Feel Like My Own Body Struggle Has Been Linked And Connected With Women I Meet In The World. I Think We're In This Together.

I'm A Nomad. I Have A Place In New York In The Flatiron District, And I Have A Place In Paris In Ile Saint-louis, And I Spend A Lot Of Time In Congo.

The World Has Done That Already - Possessed The Congo And Pillaged Her And Dominated Her And Robbed Her Of Agency And Occupation. Love Is Something Else, Something Rising And Contagious And Surprising. It Isn't Aware Of Itself. It Isn't Keeping Track. It Isn't Something You Sign For. It's Endless And Generous And Enveloping. It's In The Drums, In The Voices, In The Bodies Of The Wounded Made Suddenly Whole, By The Music, By Each Other, Dancing.