my arsenal of salves and balms has grown enormously since the weekend started, all manner of gels and ointments for healing and painkilling. I am a mess of bruise and soreness from rehearsing all weekend long a piece that, it's turning out, is slightly brutal to my body. lots of lifting. a number of walkings-upon. a 120-pound lady perched upon my shoulder for just a little while when I dance. it all seems sensible and necessary for the story of the piece. my ghost-memory attaching to me, walking over and clinging onto me. but, man: my body is taking an assault.