I lost a friend last week.

Paul La Farge was a brilliant and beautiful writer and the locus around which many orbited. The writing community is bereft, as are the hundreds of remarkable friends he managed to conjure over the course of his far too short lifetime.

I'm in a frenzy of constant distraction, worried about letting it sink in. Between savoring his old essays and pouring through his books, I'm also turning to an old standby for when I'm down and feel hopeless–dance.

Since I was a kid I've been mesmerized by dancing. It started with Tap. I took classes for a bit in 6th grade and still remember my routine. And then it broadened to incorporate all dance, pretty much.

But I was (and remain) dedicated to Gregory Hines. And I knew that he was influenced by the Nicholas Brothers, so I became obsessed with the Nicholas Brothers.

To this day, I watch this routine when I need a jolt of hope.

Of course, I feel guilty watching that without following it up with some Gregory. He used to dance with his brother, Maurice. Here they are as The Hines Brothers...

This piece makes me feel deeply melancholic, but it also reminds me of why we make art. I saw Yoann Bourgeois perform this live at BAM years ago and was moved to another plane of existence. You'll see.

Watch...