A notebook.
A blank piece of paper.
A canvas.
A silence.
An empty theatre.
A deserted stretch of beach, ocean climbing up the shore.
A mountain.
A train journey.
A moment alone.
A rock, to sit on.
A notebook.
A blank piece of paper.
A canvas.
A silence.
An empty theatre.
A deserted stretch of beach, ocean climbing up the shore.
A mountain.
A train journey.
A moment alone.
A rock, to sit on.
Archive 1980–2024
Feldenkrais for Artists in NYC
You aren't stuck in traffic. You are the traffic.