Where theory becomes story, and story becomes another way of knowing.

How I Write

The Relational Perspective Method

I don't begin with ideas. I begin by entering perspectives.

Every perspective organizes reality differently — it determines what becomes visible, what stays hidden, what feels urgent, what gets ignored. So instead of asking "Is this true?", I ask "What becomes true from here?" That's not relativism. It's disciplined participation: inhabiting a way of seeing faithfully enough to understand its internal coherence before evaluating it.

Perspective isn't just something minds hold. Bodies have perspectives. Children have perspectives. Myths preserve them. Planets symbolize them. And meaning rarely comes from staying inside just one — it appears in the encounter between perspectives: a child meeting an adult, technology meeting embodiment, fear meeting love. Each illuminates what the other can't see on its own.

This is why my essays don't usually argue toward a conclusion. I invite you to inhabit one perspective long enough to feel its world from the inside — then I introduce another. The essay becomes a conversation between worlds, not a debate. You're not asked to agree. You're asked to perceive.

My work moves between theory, essay, myth, children's literature, ballet, and fiction.

The nonfiction develops the frameworks: perception, participation, symbolic literacy, embodiment, and meaning. The creative work lets those frameworks breathe.

My children's books, ballets, mythic retellings, and fiction are not separate from the theory. They are another form of inquiry — ways of entering perspective, making invisible patterns visible, and allowing meaning to become embodied through story, image, movement, and relationship.