“It is strange to hear my wordsRead back to me.I don't think I wrote themTo have them ever leave the page.I think I only writeWhat happens across my brainWhen my feet are too weary To dance anymore.”
“It is strange to hear my wordsRead back to me.I don't think I wrote themTo have them ever leave the page.I think I only writeWhat happens across my brainWhen my feet are too weary To dance anymore.”
Stasia Ward Kehoe
“Four laughs vibrate in harmony,WarmDeliciousReal.”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, Audition“Dare I tell them that since I came here to danceI have been giving pieces of my body awayTo ridiculous diets,To repeated injuries,To Remington?And that maybeI thinkWith each bit of my bodyI lose a little piece of my soul”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, Audition“Does it matter that people and thingsHave words,Have names?If not,Why read any book?A litany of useless lettersDetached from bone, muscle.Or are words the only things that make the muscle, bone, memory, movement,PersonReal?”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, Audition“Do I dare ask him for what I want,As if I knew it,Could find it on some pageIn some chapterIn some book?”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, Audition“It is strange to hear my wordsRead back to me.I don't think I wrote themTo have them ever leave the page.I think I only writeWhat happens across my brainWhen my feet are too weary To dance anymore.”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, Audition“Life is a big story. Music is just one way to tell it, to realize how many tales all kinds of people share.”
Stasia Ward Kehoe, The Sound of Letting Go“I've a long time trying to lovea brother whose only way of touching me is pain.A long time escaping into music.Practice, lessons, rehearsals that protect mefrom the hurting parts of life.I've been winning awards, applause,acclaim for my trumpets since I was in grade s”
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