Thursday, 21 March 2013
Skript 170303: While sitting at Bonington Gallery foyer, Nottingham (UK)
2 columns of sensation either side of my spine, if they could speak in words i imagine them saying to other parts of me, get up, move, dance me…dance with me, move with me, i tire of this position, stillness in this position i hold for you…but if only…. moving into the blue red image.. the dust falling on to my face. running into the depths of the blue, red cloth, image.
i feel another part of me moving elsewhere , if a mind could dance into new places it would happily move into the depths of bleu and red…moving into and out of, with and beyond…not worried to be constrained by time and space, mind dancing, body dancing, all the same but only physics really holds me here…i long to escape…into dancing parts and whole, particles and molecules … our 100 billon trillion cells all doing the same dance. or different dances, and also our two billion year old self also dancing with the self present, or thinking she is present, now…
crawling. i sense the pressure into the knee the shift across the pelvis the tightening of the stomach muscles as the other knee moves forward… this is my two billion year old self knowing. memeboring. rememboring.
boring… re member….boring….bearing….
bearing the weight. laughter. ha ha. what…
head falls forward, releasing the upper back the shoulders. if i crawl will i need this kind of release, if i crawl or dont sit will the needs of stretch and pull shift and alter
falling to the image.. the particles drifting .. me as particle drifting. in and out. do i have the same lightness.. do i fall on many surfaces? i sense a longing long in lightness. my body as a piece of dust, part of the air around me. what would it be to touch you as the air touches us? the dis-appearing self that so compels me.
a lightness in my arms, back and chest, i sense my dust-ness, feel into my dust-ness as i float in the air, and then there is something more, notice it, wait to find the words, the tickle and heavy quality of of of of…the keyboard, i hear him say.
the room shifts. i relocate, fight to stay the sounds. i work as work to press the sounds into the muttering background while noting the ways in which the inner fluttering increasing as the room dynamic changes. so loud.
the group stand to the left of me… forming a space that circles in on themselves. hello.. he says. join me.
the passing feet pause and the choreography of the room changes again. do you sense it see it hear it? as you sit with me we might imaging the dancers, people as dancers.. passing around us centre stage? can you write the dance? the sounds behind are our music…. ok ok … i sense the potential a drop a fall. great.
the hand on the lip a light touch. a pause. his dance your dance our dance all in the one gesture. a chinese gesture perhaps?
an awkwardness about being centre stage. wondering what’s behind. what sounds to respond to, what movement might be happening behind my head. wondering what movement is happening with your head. its tilt as a dance? your lips slightly shifting the smallest moment movement are the thing. there is no need for more. ok. so mine is the choreography of uncomfort. the touching of my lips, the scratch of my head, the shift of my body on the chair. shifting as dancing. twitches. gesture. the patterning and repeats that shapes emerge ,,, the hand returns as your dance of gestures and twitches takes shape here now at the keyboard with me. and these gestures are the same i have when watching work i realise. the feeling of both performer and observer, by turns comfortable and uncomfortable depending on who’s watching and who’s being watched. we’re in this together, and this needs both of us. ah yes. i recognise that being with self whilst watching that which is presented or just is in front around me. being with my body my sense while noting how that shifts me with that i watch.
small feet catch the corner of my eye….