(Golden State Warriors publicity photo)

May 17, 2024

I met Liz thanks to our involvement with ServiceSpace.org (SSp). Before Covid hit, we’d often carpool to SSp events. Covid put an end to all that and afterwards somehow we lost touch with each other. All along, I’d continued to produce the print magazine works & conversations.
     Let me retrace the steps here. It was back in 2007 when I met ServiceSpace founder, Nipun Mehta. So many good things have come from that, and one was meeting his sister-in-law (sister-in-love, he would say) Pavithra Mehta. One of Pavi’s many gifts is her exceptional and discriminating power as a weaver of connections. She led me artist Pat Benincasa. I got to know Pat through interviewing her in 2020. She’s not only a very fine artist, but an inspired force for good.   
     Not long afterwards, Pat began doing her podcast, “Fill to Capacity.” I’d get emails about new podcasts, and one morning, I was listening to one in the background. A woman was talking about the Golden State Warriors - about dancing that was connected with the basket ball team.  She was quite enthusiastic. Okay. Why not? Then, at a certain point there was a name. I didn’t quite get it, but started listening more closely. Liz? I knew someone named Liz, but dancing for the Golden State Warriors? No way. But now I was paying close attention in case this was some impossible thing—in case it was the same Liz I knew from ServiceSpace.
     And then I heard it, “Gopal.” No way!! I dropped what I was doing and opened my address book. Aha! I still had her phone number.  
    “Hello, Liz? This is Richard Whittaker. Listen, I just heard something on a podcast. A woman named Liz was talking about dancing for the Golden State Warriors. I had the crazy thought, could it be you?”
     Well, dear reader, you know her answer.
     I proposed an interview so I could hear the story myself. And Liz agreed to play ball. We met to record a conversation at my home where she noticed one of my Huichol yarn paintings. Talking about it, we were soon in territory I wanted to capture, and it’s where I started recording…

Liz Pimentel Gopal:  When I went to Yucatan—I was there in a conference—I kept distancing away from the conference to be with the locals. I ended up in this cute coffee shop owned by natives, Mayan descendants. The way they spoke and moved—it was so different. So I kept frequenting the same shop for breakfast. I’d be having coffee and the owner - a young woman- she’d look at me, and say “You know this is not all there is.”

I’d just say, “Tell me more.”

She’d say, “What you’re seeing is not really what it is. There are other ways of being.” And then she’d walk away. This would be in Spanish. Peppered thoughts here and there. I also saw what houseless people come to her store. She immediately welcome this person, sat him down, gave him food. Another person kept asking for “water, water, water.” She gave him water and food. He took the water, but walked away a from the food plate. I looked at her and said, “That’s very kind of you.”

And she answered, “We’re all connected. We have to be kind.”

One day, instead of attending the conference, I hired a cab to take me to a cenote. He took me off the beaten path to very small villages. As I’m talking to him we’re going through this small village with chickens, roosters, kids playing, and people just sitting outside their doors. I looked at the driver and asked, “Are you happy?” and he answered, “I’m really happy.” And I said, “So you love being a taxi driver?”

He goes, “Uh, no. This is not where my happiness comes. My happiness comes when I let go of this, and go into the other world.”   

It was very interesting.  There were four or five different people and they kept opening their hearts, too, and sharing that there were other ways of being. It was one of those experiences that stay with you forever. You get a sense that there’s wisdom out there that’s not quite comprehensible.

The people there were genuinely kind people. And if they were the ones being a taxi driver, they would just be the taxi driver. If they were serving guests, they would be happy serving their cups of coffee. They just had this way of being. So it was very interesting to observe them. It was one of those life experiences that changed me.

Richard Whittaker:   Yes. Well, I’m very much interested in what you’ve brought up here when you said these people are just kind. I mean, I think what you were noting a fundamentally different kind of alignment.

Liz:  Yes. It was just so interesting.

Richard:   I’m glad you brought it up, and it’s grounded, as you said, in an awareness that we’re all connected.

Liz:  Correct.

Richard:   It’s not something I learned. Mostly, in this society of individualism we just don't have that sense. I’m only now starting to discover what you’re saying in the last three years since I began walking in neighborhoods I hadn’t walked in before and engaging with strangers. I make the first move, which being a shy person, I hardly ever did. But the point is that I’ve noticed that I don’t forget many of these small encounters in which something connects, even very quickly. A simple, good feeling. See, that’s the thing. I’ve noticed I can go right back to those moments. You were saying something like that too, I think.

Liz:  Yes. That’s exactly right. These are people that I will probably never cross paths with again, and yet they’re in my heart deeper than a memory reminding me of the power of kindness and generosity. They were willing to talk and share their wisdom until I would not comprehend. Then they would tell me “When your time is ready, you will find out.”

Richard:   They were willing to share to the extent it could be shared.

Liz:  Correct.

Richard:   This is needed today, I feel. Greatly needed, especially now in our media-digital-American culture right now. I mean this essential, human connecting is greatly needed.

Liz:  Well, your Huichol yarn paintings—because they’re indigenous—they just brought me to that moment of feeling these other indigenous people in Yucatan. And you being open, this is a conversation I can have with you.

Richard:   Yes. And it’s a great lead-in for asking you about this new adventure in your life. I couldn’t believe it when I discovered it’s my friend Liz Pimentel Gopal, who’s become a dancer for the Golden State Warriors.  Oh, my God!  

Liz:  Exactly. “Oh, my God!”

Richard:   So. I wonder if, from how and where you grew up, there was any inclination towards dance or physical expression like that?       

Liz:  Not in my background. I come from a very kind, loving, humble family, but the arts were not part of our lives. Growing up in a multi-generation dancing family at my grandparents home in Mexico, planted the seed. There was always music and singing—cooking, singing and dancing..

Richard:   So embodying the movement, and maybe just spontaneously dancing?

Liz:  That’s exactly right. I have memories of our local priest visiting us, my grandmother turns on some music—cooks some tacos, and starts dancing with family members (my mom had 9 siblings). People would show up and all of a sudden - it’s a “dance party.”

I also recall how music was my therapy.

In Mexico, you had to select your degree by 18 years of age. So you’re pushed to think earlier on goals and profession. I was one of the first family members who was going to go to college so I felt very confused, frustrated and anxious. Music was my relaxation. I loved the Beatles, Mexican rock, and top-anything on the radio that I could dance and sing to. Music was always with me.

Looking back, I realize that movement was providing a lot of comfort and releasing a lot of anxiety and stress as a child. I love my childhood. I had a wonderful childhood in many ways, but we all have our dark moments.

My case was being the child in a family where the father was in the U.S. sending money. I grew up with my grandparents and my mom, and people speaking garbage about my mother because my father was away, or kids making fun of me that I didn’t have a father. You know, you’re a kid, you just get angry. And my mother, who also suffers from depression, she had a couple of really bad episodes.

Richard:   Your mother did?

Liz:  Yes, and those were very hard to understand and witness. Adults try to protect you by pretending nothing is happening.

Richard:   But you knew.

Liz:  But I knew. And somehow playing all the time, climbing trees, riding bikes outside and playing tag released a lot of that stress. Then I had to move to the U.S. at 18 because I was a US citizen…

Richard:   How did that happen?

Liz:  My father married my mother—a long-distance relationship. He had a permanent resident card and went to Mexico; they met at a party, and had a long-distance, old-fashioned, snail-mail relationship. Then he came to Mexico to marry my mother and brought her to Humboldt County up north. That was very shocking for her.               

Richard:   To be up in Humboldt county with the redwoods and all that?

Liz:  Yes. The  constant rain, the cold weather, without family—and very few people speaking Spanish. That was very, very hard on her. So, I was born here, and my sister, too. But it was a bad situation for my mom. So that’s when my grandmother and my dad decided we should move to Guadalajara. Thank God they decided it was best for us to grow up in Mexico.

But at 18, in my quest for my purpose in life—I wanted to become a civil engineer or an architect to build houses and  travel the world. I knew that my Mexican passport was obsolete, but because of applying to colleges in Guadalajara, I became aware that I had a U.S. birth certificate. My then boyfriend advised me that if I could become a U.S. citizen and get a U.S. passport, I could travel the world.

So I went to the U.S. consulate, signed papers and took an oath—which was a five-minute process. However, I didn’t know that I was giving up my right to live in Mexico. A couple of months later I received letters from the U.S. and Mexican governments explaining that I was illegally in Mexico and ordering me to return to the U.S. or I’d get arrested.

We cried so hard! My poor mother suffered so much. Can you imagine the shock? And that’s how I ended in the U.S. It was very traumatic letting go of everything that I knew—friends, family—and being forced to come to a country not knowing the language. I mean, I knew my father, but I only saw him once a year and, at his house, I kept listening to Spanish music to block the bad memories.

Richard:   And then what happened?

Liz:  I kept dancing—pretending to be with my family in Mexico. My father had two jobs. He would leave to work early in the morning, and return around 11 p.m. He worked very hard. He worked for a lumber mill company repairing and maintaining the machinery. He also repaired TVs and appliances on his second job. He would leave and I would sing and dance. It was a way of forgetting that I was alone.

Moving forward, one of the blessings of coming to the U.S. is that once I was able to make my way to community college, I could take dance classes, and that was really exciting

Richard:   And you were making some friends, I imagine?

Liz:  Not really, because my English was poor. I’d be in English as Second Language courses with a lot of adult immigrants who worked and there wasn’t this sense of gathering after classes. Also, I had to go home. It took me ten years to finish my undergraduate degree. I was always a part-time student.

Richard:   Ten years. That’s a long time, and it also shows your determination

Liz:  I was taught determination by the strong and resilient women in my family. Also, pregnancy at 20 years of age shifted my life’s purpose to being a mother—providing food and shelter for my child—so let go of my college.

Richard:   Were you a single mother?

Liz:  For a few months, and then I married my daughter’s father. It was not a healthy relationship and we divorced eight years later.         

Richard:  Was there a moment, where you felt, “Okay, I can speak English”?

Liz:  No. I always had to work and keep studying a little bit here and there. However, kind people kept emerging in my life.  At Humboldt State University, this woman from Argentina took me under her wing.  She told me, “I can find a loophole. With your good grades, you should be studying at this university.” With her help, and guidance, I was admitted. There, I was taking courses that required writing, reading and speaking. They pushed my brain muscles, my memory, to really understand English. So, I understood first, and then I spoke. I was still very quiet.

Then I got a job at the university, which was a wonderful blessing. I had to write memos and summaries, and would ask colleagues to check the grammar. I’d have to rewrite them, so that really helped my grammar.

I think I felt comfortable with my English when my daughter was about ten years old, and that’s when I began to do very well in my career in the university. I was able to ask for promotions or apply for different positions. I felt more secure in what I would say.

It was a long journey, Richard

Richard:   What was your college degree in when you got it?

Liz:  I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Spanish Literature and a minor in Business Administration. I started with a major in mathematics. I love sciences, and at the community college, I’d take algebra courses out of comfort.

My professor was wonderful. He’d say, “You need to go into a math degree. You’re very smart.” So I applied as a mathematics major at Humboldt State, but then got pregnant. In-between I became a full-time worker at Safeway. Eventually, seven years later, I got hired at the university as an administrative assistant. I could study two classes for free, but I could only take them at night. The only degree that was available was Spanish Literature, which ended up being a blessing. It pushed my Spanish to be more ample, and I was learning English at the same time.

Richard:   Isn’t that interesting that they fed each other?

Liz:  Absolutely.  Years Later, I studied a Master’s in International and Multiculture Education at University of San Francisco. All those things for me were like a dream come true. I never once thought I would be studying a master’s degree.

Richard:   Were you able to maintain some connection at a distance with your aunt and uncles, your mother?

Liz:  I did. Remember those times you had to pick up the phone and get an operator?

Richard:   I do. I remember in a little town in West Virginia, you had give the operator the number.

Liz:  Yes. And it was very expensive, so my conversations were brief. Instead, I sent happy letters. I hid from my mother all the suffering, all the loneliness.

I wanted to protect her and thought I would figure it out. And I kept seeking healing throguh dance classes—modern dance, ballet, and math. I was just finding spaces to be myself.

Richard:   That’s such an interesting combination. How old were you at this point?

Liz:  Twenty years old, and I gave birth to Jessica at age 21.

Richard:   Okay. So, let’s jump forward to how you got together with Anand, who’s wonderful.

Liz:  I was just going to bring that up. Meeting him was another pivotal moment in my life.

Richard:   How did you meet him?

Liz:  Dancing. Anand came to Humboldt State University, to do a master’s degree in Environmental Resources Engineering. I was in charge of international student recruitment.

Richard:   And he’s from India, right?

Liz:  Yes. He finished a two year science degree in one year.  But he stayed to work at The Schatz Energy Research Center to do research in hydrogen fuel cells. We had a group of friends and I had one friend, also from India. We would have  gatherings at our homes, bring food, put on music, and dance—salsa, Bollywood, American pop, you name it. That’s how we started connecting.

I’d go maybe once a month, once every two weeks, and eventually we noticed each other. We went out on a date and that was it. We started the relationship very open-hearted, very honest, no lies whatsoever.

My daughter was admitted to Sonoma State University and he’d been admitted to UC Berkeley’s PhD in the Energy Resources Group. I decided to apply to a master’s degree at University of San francisco, and we moved to the Bay Area. I started my master’s degree and also found a job at CIIS in SF. So it was like it all started falling into place. It was really amazing..

At the same time, Richard, I kept taking dance classes in Berkeley—a class here, a class there. With dance, I could increase creativity, be relaxed, find the energy to work full-time, be a mother, and study my master’s degree. It was in Berkeley that I got exposed to Bollywood, various styles from Africa and Brazil. I took a classes all the time and Anand was always very supportive.

Fast forward. About 14 years ago, Anand finished his PhD and started a full-time job. I was  tired of the job I was doing, because I’d always worked to provide income for my family. And through Anand, I kept meeting all these wonderful people who had an alignment with purpose and profession. They’d figured out what they wanted to become or study, and I felt very curious about that.

At that point, Anand suggested I quit my job and go on an inner search for a couple of years. So I quit and never came back. He just kept doing better in his job, and financially we were doing okay. That also allowed me to do Vipassana meditation.           

Richard:   How did that happen?

Liz:  Anand had been doing Vipassana meditation for many years and I could see the positive difference when he return home from a retreat.

Richard:   Where? At North Fork?

Liz:  North Fork, yeah. So I went to my first  ten-day retreat in 2008, and it was another one of those moments that changed my life. Going to Vipassana, my thoughts changed, my perspective started changing. And that also has become one of my wonderful disciplines and tools I have to face our daily struggles.  

I had everything in my life—a wonderful marriage and daughter is who is married to a wonderful person. Our house is stable, income is fine. We’re not poor; we’re not rich. So you’d assume you should be content. But something was missing.

Then I started working with a therapist, Yolanda. She started pushing me to tap into my creative self, and doing a lot of exercises. One of her exercises was when you wake up in the morning, whatever bubbles up, just give yourself ten minutes. One day I woke up, and I remembered the Hardwood Classics. A few years back, I’d seen this dance group, and when I saw them I was like, “Oh, my God, I want to dance like them!”

Richard:   And what’s the “Hardwood Classics”?        

Liz:  It’s a group of professional dancers—the Hardwood Classics Dance Team. They have to be at least 55 years old, and perform at the Golden State Warriors’ games here at the Chase Center in San Francisco.  And I’d gone to see a game and saw them perform.

Richard:   This was back when they were in Oakland?

Liz:  Yes. And I Googled them and realized I was too young. But the thought remained somewhere in my brain. Here in Oakland, I was  going to a dance studio called “Hipline.” They have different styles of dancing, so it’s a nice place to get different rhythms in one place.

Then one morning in January of 2023, and the thought came up, “Hardwood Classics.” I grabbed some coffee and sent them an email saying “I’m very interested in auditioning for this team. I’m 56 years old.” I gave a synopsis of the styles of dances I’ve studied and performed. Then I walked over to Anand and said, “Hey, I’m going to audition for the Hardwood Classics for the Golden State Warriors!”

He said, “Great. Go for it!”

So I went all in. ALL IN. lt became my purpose. The first step for me was to take an introductory class with them. I think we started with close to 300 people. They had to divide us into two large dance rooms. There was a two-hour class about movement, memorization, and choreography and performance. It was really hot and very fun.

Richard:   How many times did you do that class?

Liz:   That was just one class. Then a week later was the first audition. It was at the Golden State Warriors headquarters in Oakland, a building with all this Warriors’ memorabilia. There were around 200 people there, men and women; it was everyone over 55 who was auditioning at that point. By that time some people dropout by not showing up or not being selected.

Part of this training was also performing. There would be cameras around you and they wanted us to wear make-up as if we were performing for the Golden State Warriors. When they would select people, you’d get an email with a number. If your number was there, you go to the next round. I kept going to the next round.   

Richard:  How many rounds were there?

Liz:  There were three total, and the final audition

Richard:   Okay.

Liz:  I just remember you’d line up and you’d have this number. Let’s say I was 78, and 76 and 77 were missing. They taught us some choreography and we’d perform it. My memory is getting fuzzy on this, but by the time we did the final audition, I was feeling blessed. At that point it felt as if I had already won. The final audition was outside the Chase Center in S.F. They had music, DJ, cameras, a panel of judges, a stage and an audience.

At that last one, we were close to 50 and they ended up selecting 29. So, out of the 300 people who began the audition process, we ended up with a group of  29 dancers. And we were competing with the previous year’s dancers, too.

Richard:  In other words, the dancers who were already there weren’t asked to quit? Was there some attrition?   

Liz:  It could be attrition, but everyone is required to audition. I’m ending my first season in a few weeks and, if I want to dance next year, I have to audition.

Richard:   So how many months has it been since you first performed?

Liz:  I was selected in September, but I think the first performance was in October. So I’ve been practicing with them since September 2023, because that was my first official practice.

Richard:   So you’ve stepped into this incredible world. I’d never been to a Warriors game. The Chase Center in S.F. is amazing—the architecture, the incredible audio/visual, and six levels of seating. Ananda and I were seated in that top level, looking down at a very small basketball court. They have this massive video screen suspended from the ceiling, and watching players is like sitting in front of a huge TV screen at home, only it’s in this building with thousands of other people. And you can look down below where the actual game is being played by the little figures below.

Being in this great chamber of audio-visual amplification—and with the crowd’s responses and the constant hyping-up, higher and higher… as I reflected on this extraordinary situation, it felt like I’d entered a main artery in the culture through which money flows. It was dazzling—and loud. A constant flow of the images, noise and the persuasions of advertising. It was incredible to be inside this giant architectural…                       

Liz:  …bubble.

Richard:   With this media blitz literally shaking our lungs with the noise, the music, the beat, the visuals—and all the cool stuff like the little parachutes of Pete’s coffee cups floating down from the rafters above.     

Liz:  The entertainment. Yes. And the sponsorships.

Richard:   What’s it like going out there on the floor and performing in the middle of all that?

Liz:  So, it’s interesting. I never thought about that.

It’s refreshing to hear that perspective, because my entry into this world is one of genuine love—the love for dance. I enjoy watching the Golden State Warriors. I’ve been following them since I moved to the Bay Area. I like basketball. They feel like they’re dancing on the court. So I’m always drawn to basketball and soccer.

And everyone on the team loves to dance. They’re genuinely happy when they’re dancing. And on top of that, we love that this dance team is breaking paradigms—pushing the boundary of what you’re “supposed to be doing” in your fifties, and sixties, and seventies—and one person is close to their eighties.

So, being part of this new way, and having this amazing staff—trainers and choreographers, who genuinely believe in us—is beautiful. They push us to do our best; to go lower, go higher—within safe parameters. And it’s beautiful to be trusted that way.

For me, it’s the people who are there. They’re very kind.

We’re going back to this kindness. Everybody shows up very happy. Richard. In my Mexican culture, we’re always hugging, always. Part of being in the U.S. is that people are very distant. It’s a tap on the back, “How are you?” Shake their hand. There’s always this space to keep it safe, you know?

Richard:   Right.

Liz:  You saw it. We dance together. We laugh. We share meals. We talk. So it almost feels like entering a family. And it’s very beautiful. I mean, you’re right. The NBA is a big enterprise, but I don’t feel it’s a moneymaking machine kind of thing for us, and for the other dancers. They really love to dance and enjoy being on the team.

And then the coaches—I have so much respect for them. Out of all these people they saw, they were able to discern good dancers, but also kind people. I don’t know how they figured that one out. It’s definitely that they want people who want to be part of this group, instead of competing with each other for a space within the group. I don’t ever see a sense of competition, a sense of rivalry. They’re always helping each other. So it’s a very, very different journey, and I look forward to it every time.

Richard:   That is so interesting. And it was a real pleasure being able to meet your cohort before the game. I truly enjoyed that. And I have this feeling, even as an outsider looking in, that there is something genuine in the Golden State Warriors ethos that seems very much about community as a core part of their whole operation—something generous and embracing. I think a lot of people feel that. I mean, first of all, Steve Kerr is such a remarkable person.

Liz:  Yes.

Richard:   And Steph Curry. He has a rare quality that goes beyond his incredible gifts as a player. I’m sure there are many others. The Warriors have a persona that’s inclusive and generous—a pretty special thing, it seems to me.

Liz:  And that’s a good point to bring. And I’m being very honest.                 

Richard:   I don’t know how deep that is, but I saw this with your cohort.

Liz:  Yes. And everyone I’ve met—the staff that delivers our food, the security people around us, the film crew, Eva Salazar, who you met, and the coaches—they’re all genuinely nice, kind people.

Richard:   I experienced that right at the front door. I was supposed to have a media pass waiting for me. The door guy said, “Give me a name or phone number so I can verify that. I’d forgotten to write down Eva’s phone number, and I couldn’t even remember her name. So there I was. An old guy. Ha.

Anand was very patient with my incompetence. He said, “You don’t have the phone number?”

I thought, “Jesus! I thought I did.” As this was stumbling along, I noticed a guard sitting just inside the door watching this. Finally, somebody said, “All right. Let’s not just stiff this guy. Somebody call…” and he gave a name.

So now I’m standing just inside and next to this African American guard and I say, “I bet you see all kinds of scams with people trying to get it.”

He laughs, “Yeah. I’ve seen ‘em all.” He had a wonderful quality, and we had a nice conversation about the difficulties he and the door guys have to deal with. I genuinely enjoyed it, and I thanked him.

Liz:  That’s exactly right.

Richard:   So I’m just enlarging on what you’re saying, because those people in the front, including Eva (who had the authority, and confirmed my pass) were wonderful. And then meeting your cohort just added more to the good feeling I was already having.

Liz:  Yes.  I feel held by my colleagues. We’re going through life together. There have already been losses. One of my colleagues got a note that her father transitioned, crossed over the rainbow, while we were practicing. Bless her heart, she kept going, “No. This is medicine. I need to stay. I want to finish. I want to finish because this is medicine. My father will be happy to know that I’m going to perform.”

So, it’s been beautiful. There have been some illnesses. It’s life. Life is not always peppy and happy. But we help each other, and have each other’s backs. So that has been beautiful to witness.

In all the jobs I’ve had, there have been some wonderful people, but there’s always people that will be trying to step over you and get to the top, you know? Or put you down so you don’t apply for the position. I’ve dealt with a lot of the racism—having an accent and being the Mexican, being the female. I was told by men, “You shouldn’t apply. You’re a woman. You can’t apply.”

But this just feels so different and so refreshing. So to be living this chapter in my life right now—I will be 57 in May—it’s been a really joyful, blessing.  It’s brought another perspective into our lives for the family. My daughter, my nephews, my friends’ chidren—all of a sudden they are witnessing me performing at Chase center and witnessing a personality and dance moves they’ve never seen.

They come to see me afterwards and they’re like, “Oh, my God!”

They really don’t get it until they come and see me. It’s a performance. I come out in front of thousands of people, and just give it my all. So, it’s been beautiful to be part of that, to be part of that community and witnessing the inner transformation.

I have a Vipassana retreat coming up to help process all these experiences and let things untangle.

Richard:   Yes. It must be quite amazing for you.                

Liz:  Yeah. Because I’m thinking what’s next? This is definitely not the end. And I don’t know what the next part is. I want time to open my heart. I love to dance. Now I can claim it. Dance has always been part of me and, now that I’m getting paid to dance, it’s like, I had no idea this was possible! Never in my lifetime!

Richard:  It’s such a great thing because you’re an example now that there are possibilities one would not have imagined. We think, “Okay, getting time to retire.” But the reality of our potential is that we can continue to grow and live. I mean l-i-v-e, live.

Liz:  Capital L-I-V-E! And highlight that!

Richard:   I’m there. I’ll be 81 in a month, and I could not feel more fortunate to have found a vehicle [w&c] that’s helpful for others and relevant. And that I can keep doing. You must feel that, too..

Liz:  I do.

Richard:   In general, I think it’s hard for people to find a path where their heart is really there in their work. Maybe especially in this culture.

Liz:  I agree with you,  it’s a workaholic culture.  I worked very hard,  often 6 to 7 day work-weeks and  I’m wondering if you can relate to feeling that unconsciously we kept making good choices.  

You’re going to be 81, and you’re happy, especially since you have been publishing works & conversations magazine. But if we look back, maybe intuitively—or by the graces of karma, good energies—things, people, options were available to so we were able to make the right choices that would allow us to be here.

Richard:   That’s absolutely right. And it applies to me, for sure. There were points in my life where I ran into some bad things. Looking back, they could have gone another way, and maybe I’d be dead today. You know?

Liz:  I can relate, absolutely. We get help when we’re also willing to receive it. I think that’s the key point, that we were receptive to help when we need it. It helped us open windows and give us hope or become more resilient to whatever we were facing at that point.

There have been times in my life where I felt “Life is hell. This is not life. It’s just work, work, work, work, work—work and exhaustion.” Getting up and hating to go to my job, but having to do it because we needed the money  to eat.

But deep inside—I don’t know about you—somehow I had the ability to nurture the movement in my life through dance and play. I love movement: climb trees, play tennis, whatever is available. Give me a racquet, I’ll fake it. I don’t even care if I lose. I just want to move, play and laugh. Somehow, I  had the wisdom to  never to quit dancing. Honestly, I think if I would have let it go, I may not be alive today.

Richard:   It’s so interesting. Maybe one has to thank God—certainly our parents. And those people who have helped one here and there who made it possible to hold onto what one loves.  

Liz:  Yes. And it’s important in art. That’s the part I want to come to because of the beautiful work you do in highlighting the importance of art in our lives. When I leave the U.S. somehow I feel like poetry, music and art seems more vibrant.

In the U.S. it feels as a privilege, you know. You have to go to museums and pay to see art, or pay  at a  venue to hear the philharmonic orchestra.. However, when I travel through Europe and Mexico, I  get exposed to murals, art in the parks, free concerts in beautiful venues and poets reading in bookstores.

If I ask someone they’ll say, “Oh, yeah, there’s a poetry reading right over there.” Art allows us to feel and process feelings and ways of knowing that you cannot express through words. In my case, movement allows me to process and feel different ways of knowing and being that I can’t otherwise express. I assume it’s the same for a painter or a sculptor or a muralist.

RW:   Yes.

Liz:  Hanging out in your living room—all this art is just gorgeous.

RW:   Those Huichol yarn paintings express the cosmology of the Huichol. Juan Negrin, who I knew, felt blessed to have found his way into one of the last theocratic cultures in the world. Juan could tell me the meanings of each of the yarn paintings. I think most of these were done by shamans. But yes, the best art can be a place for the sacred. Let’s just put it that way.

Liz:  True.

RW:   But I am moved by what you’ve shared with me from your journey. And how it’s taken you to this amazing place of performing in front of thousands of people. And although I only had maybe 20 minutes to meet the other women in your cohort, they really made a wonderful impression. I was thinking well, these women were not selected because they’re going to be that Warriors’ version of Las Vegas Showgirls.

Liz:  Correct..

RW:   Like this wonderful woman from Hawaii—I was watching her dance. It was like, “Wow. She’s good!” Right?

Liz:  Dorothy? Yes.

RW:   And she would not end up in a casino line-up.

Liz:  Exactly.

RW:   It’s a beautiful thing the Warriors are doing including people over 50 years old who perform so wonderfully well. It’s exemplary in the best way, and I give the Warriors grateful kudos for having that as part of their organization. I hope it grows and spreads.

Liz:  I do, too. And thank you for giving me a space to share a little bit of my story.  ∆