A Dance, not a Battle

Danielle Dugas, Garden scene, Aggregate Immateriality (2019); photo by Nicholas Caputo

I attended my friend Wayne’s memorial service today. Among the many celebrations of his vibrant, exquisite life came this exhortation, formulated through two decades of navigating chronic pain and body betrayal: It’s not a battle, it’s a dance. 

This touches the heart of our 2026 project Red Willow – a reflection on resistance, service, and responsibility, asking how we stand up and defend against what’s coming, how we do it in the good way in a world that’s currently in a very bad way. It feels like a nostalgic wish in the face of the current onslaught of hate, greed, stupidity, and violence, the dismembering of American democracy and morality playing out in daily horror show news cycles, silencing voices and threatening the existence of collaborators and colleagues… 

Hard times, friends. There’s plenty of good still moving through our world, but it feels important to keep the challenges in focus. Within the accelerating, interlocking crises engulfing our world, we’ve experienced a year at Control Group where every project navigated a life-altering crisis for its lead artists – health events, family loss, work transitions, emigration. It’s been a year of pervasive uncertainty, and substantial pain.

In my own health journey (details in my personal feed) I find myself mid-recovery, grinding out marginal gains, figuring out day by day what I can accept and what I need to fight for. Or dance with.

The Breathing Healing Bus (2025); photo by Patrick Mueller

I’ve spent a good amount of the last month in my happy place: driving the Breathing Healing Bus to events across the Denver-Boulder area to share art, history, and healing around the colonization of Colorado. Native festivals, powwows, and convenings of tribal leaders; Indigenous Peoples Day celebrations; harvest fests and municipal events… We’ve reached over 1,000 people this fall, with a free event designed to transform perspectives and action around Native justice.

It’s rejuvenated me with regular reminders of why we do this, of the value of the work and beauty of the community around it – incredible artists, artists, staff, and community partners pouring their hearts into our shared labor; communities visibilized by the work, others committing to allyship and action.

I learned the Truth, about a Forgetting that was intentional, and evil… and it’s hard, but done in such a gentle manner… I felt like I could breathe. It was this peaceful, quiet, joy, like everybody's soul was grounded and they were returning home. (compiled words of Bus guests)

There’s been resistance as well – hard truths elicit hard feelings, particularly illicit truths directed toward hardened perspectives. But resistance is good: it’s what trains you and strengthens you, it’s what you lean into and dance with and find how it moves and shifts and sometimes even topples. We’re committed to being part of the larger dance of values, voices, responsibilities, and freedoms that is unfolding for us all right now.

More about what’s coming in the coming weeks. We hope you’ll join us in the struggle dance.

Donate here to Control Group’s end-of-year campaign, and support 2026 programming of exquisite arts experiences with community justice goals.