Hockey Player to Figure Skater.


Stephen Spielberg once said that he begins with the assumption that every story has been told.  So, his goal is just to tell it better.

It is in that spirit that I set out to add my own addition to the hockey player to figure skater genre, which has been explored in both traditional and TG incarnations.  To start with traditional, we must begin with the classic skating romance, The Cutting Edge.    In this film, a tough guy former hockey player from a blue collar family gets one more chance to win gold.  The catch?  He must learn to figure skate and partner with a notoriously nasty and unpleasant young woman who is so annoying and hard to work with that not a single male figure skater on earth will partner with her.

The gender role issues come into play in various ways along with class.  The guy is ashamed of what he is doing and hides it from his family.  When he reveals his new life as a figure skater to them– under pressure– his uncle asks him “are you going to have to shave your legs?”

In the figure skating world, he becomes an agent of rebellion and change. He rails against the classical music his partner wants to use in their performance and which the movie portrays as standard to the feminine world of skating.  He demands they perform to rock music instead and wear more modern costumes.  Yet, the movie also reveals the skill and dedication that figure skaters possess, as he struggles to master the skating techniques needed, and we see the female skater take a beating when they try to learn a new move, getting up fall after fall, showing her toughness.

Yet, when they compete playing hockey, he clearly dominates her, enforcing the traditional roles.  Girls dance on ice.  Boys fight.

Flash forward to The Cutting Edge III however, and what do we see?  A total reversal as the male figure skater has to pair up with a female hockey player.

Ice Angel is a TG movie in which a hockey player is reincarnated as a figure skater and has to learn to accept and respect himself as a woman and a figure skater.  It’s actually pretty groovy.

So, here I go, and how will mine be different?  Well, my hope is that if I am true to myself and follow my gut, I will create something new within the genre simply by being me.  I have also done a lot of research, and my hope is that I can mix and combine elements from The Cutting Edge, Ice Angel and Ice Princess into something new and yet still true to the conventions of the genre.

Finally, I have a secret weapon: my frequent collaborator Anonymous, who always has some awesome ideas, and who commissioned this story in the first place.

Ultimately, though, what fuels this writing is one of my trust passions, and I hope to melt and destroy the notion that either activity, figure skating or hockey, has a gender.  In fact, both require hard work, sacrifice, pain and discipline.  And if you think figure skaters are more vain than hockey players, you haven’t met many hockey players.   Some of them spend as much time on their hockey hair as they do their skating.

Look for it in a week or so.  The title: Jumps and Spins!


Hockey Player to Figure Skater.

Kirk VI

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Kirk woke up at the beginning of the first shift, the equivalent of morning on the Enterprise.  He pulled a sports bra over his head, struggling for a moment to get his breasts fitted into the cups, and then pulled on a pair of baggy sweat pants and a baggy sweat shirt, a pair of little trainers that look fit for a child but fit his tiny feet perfectly.  Then he tied his long hair back into a pony tail, just as he’d been taught to do when he’d been a slave girl.

Bounding out of his room, he ran to Rand’s quarters and knocked on the door.  She answered looking bleery and super un-excited.  “I hate you!”  She said.

“Come on!” Kirk chirped, running in place.  “You promised to run with me!”

“Ugh!”  But she came out of her room, and soon the two ran along the corridors of The Enterprise, making their way down to the rec room, where they climbed onto adjacent treadmills and started to run.

“This bra isn’t working either,” Jim Kirk said, looking down ruefully at his bouncing breasts.

“You have a lot of boobage,” Rand said.  “It’s going to bounce.  Get used to it, sister.”

“I think the girls are issuing me bouncy bras on purpose.”

“Why would they do that?”  Rand said.

“Because they think it’s funny to see a man have to deal with these puppies.”

“I think you’re paranoid,” Rand said.  “Believe me.  Big boobs bounce.  I should know.”

“I just wish these guys would stop staring at us.”  Kirk said, slitting his eyes at a guy who had stopped and stared, but the guy just smirk and kept looking.

Rand just shrugged.  “I’ve been putting up with it all–”

“I know.  I know.”  Kirk said, his little voice rising higher.  “It’s just part of being a woman.”

They ran for a solid thirty minutes, then went over to the juice bar and got smoothies.  Rand looked at the clock on the wall.  “I need to go get ready.  I have to report in a couple hours.  You mind?”

“Go.  I’ll be fine,” Kirk said.

Rand covered his hand with her own and gave it a squeeze.  “You sure?”


Rand got up, grabbed her ankle and stretched.  “What are you going to do all day since you don’t have a duty assignment right now?”

“I’m going to go down to engineering and investigate.  Scotty has the device that was patched into the transporter to make me– this.”

“But Star Fleet has their investigators looking into it,” Rand said.  “I’m sure they would have any clues.”

“I’m not.”

Rand jogged off.  Kirk slipped the straw into his mouth and slurped down the rest of his protein smoothie.  He saw a couple guys watching him with his lips wrapped around the straw, sucking, and they were whispering together.   Kirk knew what they were thinking, saying, and it made him feel gross and violated.  Again.  He couldn’t even drink a smoothie in public without guys imagining him performing sex acts.  It felt like he was always under attack, always being looked at and sexualized.  Was it like this for women?  Really?

He resisted the urge to make an obscene gesture.  He was still an officer, and he had to conduct himself accordingly.  But he didn’t know it he would ever drink from a straw in public again.  Or eat a banana.

“Scotty!”  He said as he entered engineering and saw the temperamental old Scotsman director some of his crew to position a hadron helix interpolater.


“Secure that good and then seal it,” Scotty said, then walked over to Jim, who had to crane his neck back to look up at the now taller man.  Scotty had met Jim’s eyes and kept his eyes up there, much to Kirk’s relief.  “How are you holding up?”  Scotty said.

“Fine,”  Kirk responded.  “I’ve been in tougher positions than this one and come out on top.”

‘Yes, you have.  What brings you to engineering?”

“I want to look at the evidence from the transporter sabotage.”

Scott considered. Shrugged.  “Be my guest.  I’m not sure there’s much there, though.  It mostly burned up.”

‘I’ll look just the same.”  Kirk said.

“This way,” Scotty said, gesturing toward a clean room.   Kirk walked ahead, and he felt Scotty looking at his rear.  Oh well, he thought.  Scotty did better than most.  They made their pleasantries and then Scotty opened up the evidence locker and left Kirk in the room alone.  Kirk hooked some loose hairs behind his ear and examined the melted circuits and wires under an enlarger.  He’d read the report previously, and as the report suggested he could see it was clearly alien tech.  The mineral composition, the way the circuits had been formed, the remains of a few inscribings all pointed to some alien civilization that had not been identified so far.

Kirk went back to the report.  After the sabotage, Scotty had found evidence of two unauthorized transports,  both several hours before Kirk beamed down and found himself a female.  The speculation was that some foreign agent had beamed onto the ship from a cloaked vessel, installed the alien tech to transform Kirk, and then beamed back to their own ship, escaping into deep space.

There was no way to track them or identify them, and the footage from the cameras that monitored the transporter room had been erased.   Who had done it and why might well remain a mystery forever, which was not James Kirk’s primary concern.  His main concern was this alien tech, and where to get some that would restore him to his own body.

Who would want to do this to him?  Who hated him enough to go to these elaborate means to turn him into a woman and strip him of his command?

He heard the door to the clean room hiss open and glanced back over his shoulder to see a young man entering–  “Petty Officer Errol?”  Kirk said, the name coming to him.

“Captain Kirk,”  Errol answered with a smile.  “You need any help.”

“Maybe,” Kirk said.  “Do you know the access codes for the recording from the transporter room?”

‘Sure do.”  Errol gestured.  “Come over here.”

Kirk got up and followed Errol over, and when they approached the view screen Errol put his hand on the small of Kirk’s back and led him forward.

Kirk stiffened, looking up at the man.  ‘Um, your hand?”

“Oh,” Errol said.  “So sorry.”  He pulled up the recordings, and Kirk leaned in to take a look.  Errol stood very close, so close Kirk could feel the heat coming off the man’s body.  He felt himself getting tense and nervous, but he didn’t want to seem like a –girl, so he just hooked his hair back and looked into the viewer, watching as the image of the empty room went black, and the fast forwarding until the image came on again.

Errol leaned down until his face was right next to Kirk’s.  “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kirk answered,  He wished he could move away from the man, but he needed to be in front of the view finder.  He rewound the recording and watched it again.  Something was bothering him, but he didn’t know what.  “Something doesn’t feel right.  I don’t why, but I just feel it.”

“Women’s intuition,” Errol said.

Kirk gave him a dirty look. “This is not a good time,” he said, and then for some reason he smiled.  He didn’t know why, but he just hoped maybe if he smiled and was nice, this guy would leave him alone.  It didn’t work.  Errol’s eyes fell to the swell of Kirk’s breasts, then came back to his face.

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” Errol said.

“Um, I am not interested,” Kirk said, feeling his skin crawl.  “I’m really not.”

“Have you ever been with a man?”  Errol said.  “Maybe you’d like it.”

Kirk sighed and turned to face Errol, forced once more to look up into the man’s face.  Kirk hated being short.  “This is not the time, Petty offic– umph!”  Kirk’s eyes went wide with shock as Errol’s lips covered his, and he put his hands on Errol’s chest and pushed, but Errol was too big and strong, and Kirk found himself being pushed backward onto the control panel, locked in a kiss, as Errol grabbed one of his legs and lifted him off his feet, while using his other hand to paw at Jim Kirk’s breast.

Overcoming his shock, Kirk finally resorted to some of his combat training and managed to get a grip on Errol’s fingers and bent them back viciously, bringing out a cry of pain and sending the man to his knees.

“I am your superior officer!”  Kirk squealed angrily.  “What you just did is a punishable offense!”

“Sorry!”  Errol said, shaking his hand.  “It’s just that you are so hot.”

Kirk resisted the urge to Kick the man in the face.  I am an officer, he reminded himself.  “Go.” He said, crossing his arms over his breasts, his knees together.  “Go now, and I won’t report this.”

Errol got up and left.

Kirk felt– sick.  He hated that a man had just kissed him like that, had fondled him, and he hated that he was letting him get away with it.  But the truth was, he couldn’t report it.  Didn’t dare.  His reputation would be ruined if word got out that a crewman had kissed him, sexually harassed him, treated him like a– woman.  Like the woman he was.

I have to get out of this body, Kirk thought, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself, but his breasts heaving with each breath just brought back to him what he was now, what he’d become.  He tried to watch the tape again, but the incident was playing over and over in his mind.  Did I cause this?  He wondered.  “Did I give off some signal I’m not even aware of?”

He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure, didn’t know what was expected of him now that he was a she.  I told him this was not a good time, he thought.  I told him i wasn’t– wait.

Not a good time.  He went back to the tape, to right before the screen went black.  There was the transporter room, with the time at the bottom left corner, and then it went black and– yes!   He scrolled it back, millisecond by millisecond.  And there it was.  He’d seen the time stamp flicker– just barely– that’s what he’d caught, but now, freezing it on one frame the saboteur had missed, he saw that the time stamped had been altered to make it look like whoever had beamed on board had gone into the system and erased the feed after they beamed onto the ship.

But this one frame, this one millisecond frame, proved that the video tampering had done before the alleged unauthorized transporter activity.  That meant that whoever had altered the video had already been on the ship.

And they probably still were.  Kirk smiled, adjusting his bra straps, tossing his ponytail.  They were on the ship.  And that meant he could find them, and he could force them to turn him back into a man.

And when he was a man again he would settled things with Errol in the boxing ring, fist to fist, and Errol would find out you don’t just kiss a girl whenever you feel like it because she just might punch you in the nose one day!

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Kirk VI

Kirk IV

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When they got to Rand’s room, Kirk sat on her bed, tucking his long legs under him, accepting a glass of wine from Rand, who climbed on the bed and sat near him, giving him another sisterly touch on the arm.  “What will you do now?”  Rand asked, sipping her wine.

The way he’d tucked his legs under him, the way he walked, gestured, even the way he spoke all carried traces of his time training and serving as a slave girl.  Rand wondered if he even realized how naturally feminine his mannerisms had become.

Kirk took a slug of his own wine and felt it warm and sweet as it poured down his throat.  He reminded himself to slow down.  He couldn’t handle alcohol as well as he once did in this smaller body.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “Resign?  Ask for re-assignment?  Find some way to get my body back?  Build a time machine?”

“You can’t resign,” Rand said.  “You love Star Fleet.”

“And I love the Enterprise.  I love her crew.”  He idly brushed a strand of his golden blonde hair away from his face.

“So stay.  Be a part of her crew,” Rand said.

Kirk took another sip of wine.  “This is all so wrong,” he said, the anger bubbling up in him.  “I am still James T. Kirk!  I am still the rightful captain!  How can they take the ship away from me?  It isn’t fair!”

“There are a lot of things that aren’t fair for women,” Rand said.

“I’m not supposed to be a woman!”  Kirk spat.  “I’m not supposed to have to deal with this kind of sexist nonsense.”

“But now you do.  Maybe it will make you a better person, just like you said—”

“Better?  Ha.  But not the Captain.  Probably never again.”

“You don’t know that,” Rand said.  “You have to stay strong!”

Kirk drank some more wine.  Sighed.  “You’ve been so good to me, Jan.  So loyal.”  He reached out and touched her hair, then her cheek.

“I will always love and support you,” Rand said.

“Jan.” Kirk cupped her cheek, then his eyes went soft, and he leaned in, meaning to kiss her, but Rand pulled away.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “You know I’m not into other girls.  I told you before.”

Kirk sat back, burning with shame.  He looked away.  “I’m sorry.  I — I forget myself.”

“Let me get you some more wine.”

Kirk got up and went to Jan’s mirror, looking at the young woman in the mirror.  He threw his shoulders back, turned to the side and examined his figure.  Rand brought him a second glass of wine.  “What are you thinking?” She said, meeting his eyes in the mirror, standing behind him, looking over his shoulder.

‘I’m still trying to accept that is me,” he said, shaking his head.  “Trying to figure out if I can be me in this body, with this face.  What do you think?  Can this pretty girl be James T. Kirk?”

Rand sat in a chair and crossed her legs, regarding James Kirk as he looked over his figure in the mirror, turning this way and that, still trying to wrap his head around the reality that he was now one of them– a female.

“Yes,” Rand said with a little smile.  “But you said it yourself.  You can’t be the same old James Kirk.  You have to be a new one, one that accepts that she is now a woman.”

“I’m not sure if I will ever get used to the idea.”

They talked.  Kirk got angry, then cried, and Rand did hold him then, as a friend holds another friend, and then they drank some more wine, and finally they hugged goodnight, and Kirk stumbled back to his own quarters and flopped into the bed, passing out almost immediately still wearing his new uniform.

He woke sometime after midnight, his bra seemed to choking him, and sitting up, he reached back to find the zipper on his dress, slipping out of it and then out of his bra, sighing with relief as the pressure on his chest and ribs eased, and he felt his breasts sway free.  He put his hands on the small of his back and stretched, then went to his closet and pulled on his old robe, which now hung on him like an over sized coat, but which was soft and comfortable and reminded him of home.

He drank a glass of water and another, then curled up in his reading chair, pulling his legs to his chest, biting his pinky finger, thinking about Rand, her smile, how much he wanted to kiss her, and how empty it had made him feel when she’d said no.

His mind drifted back to the day of the transformation, when he’d suddenly found himself a woman.







Kirk IV

Kirk III

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“I am James T. Kirk,”  Kirk started, trying his best to tune out the sound of his tea kettle voice, “and I am, as Doctor McCoy testified, a woman.  We meet here today to judge my fitness to serve as captain of the star ship Enterprise, a position I have held for two years.

“And, why, I ask, has my fitness become an issue?  Not due to my performance, nor due to my health nor for any reason for which their is precedence for removal of a star ship captain.  My fitness has become an issue because when star fleet named me captain, I was a man.  And now, as we can all see, I am most certainly a woman.  Or, I have the body of a woman.  But has it changed me mentally?  Has it made me somehow different from the man appointed captain of this ship, and who served in that role with distinction?”

He took a few steps and turned slightly away from the cameras, as if pondering, though he had worked the whole speech out.  He didn’t see all the eyes of the tribunal drop to his behind, then his long, bare legs.

Kirk turned back to the cameras.  “Am I the same man I was inside?  That’s the question, isn’t it?  Because, if I am the same man, then there is no reason to make a change.  The man I was has done this job.  Is he still in here, in this body?”

He nodded, paused, and then said, “The answer is no.  I am not that man anymore.”

He saw the looks of surprise on the faces of the old men, and hid his own smile.  “Oh, the psyche evaluations say nothing has changed.  And I have all my memories and training.  But I am not the same James Kirk.   I am now a woman, and I have lived as a woman, and I can not claim to be the same man I was; however, I can insist that I am now a better person!”

He was getting excited now, and he paced, glancing at Rand, seeing her nod, glancing at Spock and seeing him allow a momentary flash of emotion to creep through.  “I am uniquely qualified to captain this ship because I now understand my entire crew.  I have lived as a man in a man’s body, and I am now living as a woman in a woman’s body.  My crew consists of men and women.  The various species that populate our universe most frequently exhibit sexual differentiation.   Who better to contact those new civilizations than a person, a captain, who knows what it is to be male and female?  Captain, and, yes, at one point, slave girl?”

He punched his fist into his palm.  “Star Fleet made the right choice when they assigned this ship to me, and I say that choice is even better now that I stand before you, a young woman, ready to be the first female to captain a star ship in this, the greatest federation, the universe has ever known!”

The crew stood and applauded.  Kirk stood at attention, his big, brown eyes sparkling with pride and hope.  When the applause died down, the leader of the tribunal said.  “Excellent speech, honey.  You did very well.  This tribunal has determined that Captain James T. Kirk will be replaced as Captain of the Enterprise. ”

“What?”  Kirk said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“She will retain her rank and pay grade, but will be reassigned in the chain of command to a subordinate position as determined by her new commanding officer, Captain Sean Finnegan.”

Sean Finnegan?  My tormentor from my academy days?  Inside, Kirk felt his stomach turn, felt himself grow sick, but he retained his mask of calm.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I will serve with honor.”

“Very good, Miss Kirk.  You are a lovely girl, and I am sure you will be an asset to the crew.  Good day.”

As soon as the screen went blank, crew members came up to console Kirk, and he heard them, but only from a distance.  His body felt suddenly like a prison, and the tight, constricting dress, the feeling of his bra straps digging into his shoulders, it all brought back to him the sudden, shocking reality that he had lost his ship, he was no longer captain.

Eventually, as people began to disperse, Rand appeared, gathering him into her arms for a sisterly hug.  “I’m so sorry!  It’s so unfair.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kirk admitted to her in a small, almost whisper.  “I never expected to lose her.”

“Come,” Rand said, taking his hand.  “Let’s go to my room, and we can drink some wine and talk all about it.  Would you like that, sweety?”

Kirk nodded.  ‘Yes.”  Holding Rand’s hand, he followed her from the room, eyes down, feeling like he’d lost everything, and that he would never know happiness again.










Kirk III

Kirk II


As Kirk turned the corner to the hearing room, trying his best to put behind him the memory of getting checked out by the men on the elevator, he saw Janice Rand waiting for him outside the door.  He instantly felt a sense of relief, and they shared a smile as Janice rushed up to him and gathered him into her arms for a hug.

“Look!  We match!”  She said, holding the red sleeve of her dress next to his matching sleeve.

Kirk touched her on the elbow.  “Thanks for being here for me!”

“Of course.  We’re besties.  You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Kirk said, once more tugging at the hem of his uniform, feeling hyper aware of his bare legs.

Rand grabbed his hand and said, “Don’t let them see you doing that inside.  It makes you look insecure.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Thanks.”  He hugged her again.  She’d been a godsend since his change.  Some women in her position probably would have reveled in seeing a former lover who’d scorned them turned into a woman, but Rand had been right there to help him, supporting him relentlessly as he struggled to deal with his new sex.  He was lucky to have her as such a good friend.

He walked into the hearing room.  Familiar faces sat in a semi-circle facing a series of screens:  Doctor McCoy, Nurse Chapel, Spock, Scotty.  Rand took a seat in the gallery, where a small group of her young women friends waited.

Kirk looked at the screens, where the withered, craggy faces of the Starfleet Commission arranged to determine his fitness for command waited, looking bored.  Not a single woman, Kirk noted, without surprise, but the first time in his life ir seemed very relevant that this decision, like most, would be made only by men.

Kirk took a position in the center of the room.

“Captain James T. Kirk, this tribunal has been gathered… blah … blah… blah… it’s decision will be final.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do,” Kirk answered, cringing at the sound of his high-pitched little voice as it came back to him over the room’s sound system.   He turned and went to his seat, facing another challenge– sitting in his mini-dress.   He found what he’d learned was the right distance while practicing with Rand, then kind of knelt into the seat, keeping his knees together.  The last thing he wanted to do was give the whole room a crotch shot to look at.

Doctor McCoy went first, putting up some x-rays and brain scans.  “So, in conclusion, medically speaking, Captain Kirk is a perfectly healthy young woman exhibiting no signs of physical or mental trauma.  In the opinion of this doctor, she is fit to serve.”

It felt strange hearing himself referred to as a young woman, a she, but Kirk figured for the time being he would have to get used to it.  Meanwhile, he gave McCoy one of his trademark crooked smiles.   Thanks, he thought.  Thanks.  It means the world.

Scotty testified as to his conduct since the change, particularly as it related to his behavior on Ram V, where he’d first been turned into a female.  “The Captain behaved in a manner consistent with her personality and leadership style throughout the mission.  I didn’t see any change at all in her mind. ”

Finally, one of the zombies spoke. “According to your report, this young lady agreed to serve as a slave girl.  Is that correct?”

Young lady?  Kirk didn’t like the sound of that, nor the inquiry alone the lines of his time as a slave girl.  It couldn’t bode well.

“You have to understand–” Scotty started, but the inquisitor cut him off.


“Yes, sir,” Scotty answered through gritted teeth, gripping the arm rests of his chair.

The men looked at Kirk, letting his eyes fall across Kirk’s body, lingering along his long, bare legs. “Slave girl,” he snorted.  ‘Hmmpf.”

“Wait,” another skeleton said, seeming to wake from a stupor.  “Did you say she agreed?  Or, was she forced?”

Scotty swallowed and glanced at Kirk apologetically.  “She agreed, but–”

“That’s enough.  I’m ready to make a decision.”

‘I’ve heard enough,” the others agreed.

The three put their heads together and started murmuring.   Kirk could tell it wasn’t going to go well.  He stood.  “Excuse me?” he said.  His voice sounded small, apologetic, feminine.

The men ignored him.

“Excuse me!” Kirk shouted, trying to put some power behind his tea-kettle voice.  Rand shook her head.  This would not go well.  He was still acting like a man.

The men all stopped, looking at him angrily.  “Young lady,” the lead inquisitor said.  “I’d advise you to sit yourself back down, shut up and know your place.”

“I know my place,” Kirk said.  ‘It’s on the bridge of the Enterprise.”

“Young lady,” the man repeated.  “You are out of line.”

“With all due respect,”  Kirk said.  ‘I am entitled to make a statement at my hearing prior to a decision being rendered.”

The skeleton zombie frowned.  “Very well.”  He waved his hand.  “Make it quick.”

Kirk took a deep breath, throwing his shoulders back, his chest out.  This is it, he thought.  Your whole career and future are on the line.  Time for Kirk to do what he does best.  Time to Kobayashi Maru these geezers.







Kirk II

Let There Be Blur on Earth!



Happy New Year everybody!   I feel like 2017 saw an unprecedented- at least here in America– continuation of the blurring and redefining of gender norms and identities.  There transformations have come about as a result of the species evolving, and largely due to the continued evolution in the roles available to women.

Of course, throughout history there have been strong women who defied the gender roles expected of them.  And throughout history there have been versions of masculinity far outside the lines of what it became in America for at least the last hundred of so years.

Since recorded human history there have been cultures where men were expected to be passionate and emotional, where men danced and made wore, where men wore what to modern American eyes looked like dresses.

To open our eyes to history is to realize that what it means to be a man or a woman has always changed and evolved.

Social evolution is out greatest asset, as we can change our social customs to match our evolving world in a generation , whereas the biological evolution take a lot longer.

Sadly, we still have those who fear change; these are usually weak, fear bound people terrified of their feelings who cling to artificial modes of past conduct as proof against the reality, observed so long ago, that the only constant is change.

Let’s have a great year evolving, daring, experimenting and above all else dancing!  There has never been a better time to be YOU!

Let There Be Blur on Earth!