I start on the floor today, letting my weight take the lead. I continue with some organized floor work, standing exercises.
I feel strong today.
I improvise on a theme of width and breadth, letting the horizontal pull anchor me into the room before returning to my work from last session. It goes much easier this time. I find my eyes and my pelvis and my feet in coordination with the floor and each other.
It’s not there yet, but I like where it’s going:
I want to increase the risk without losing an open attention. Virtuosity is not what interests me. How to increase effort but maintain subtlety, nuance, mystery?
I need to vary my timing, explore other rhythms.
I return to my “landmarks” study. I like the task but I don’t really like the product. I look stuck, and not in an interesting way. I decide to start over, but with the same list:
- right hip
- left rib
- muscular level
- right eyebrow
- back of neck
- cellular level
- right ankle
- sole of feet
- skin level
- right hand
- nerve level
- left shoulder
- left shin
- bone level
- left big toe
- left ear
- organ level
- right thigh
- fat level
- left hip
- fascia level
I run through the list as fast as I can, taking my first impulse. It feels exciting and easy, unlike my first attempt. I’m pleased with it and will continue.
I realize I’ve been dancing nonstop for 2 hours. Suddenly my muscles fatigue and I realize my feet hurt.
I return to this notion of slowness and set my phone alarm for 30 minutes. I will move as slowly as possible without stopping until the timer goes off.
At first it seem impossible, and then luxurious, and then impossible again.
I notice so many sounds. The street outside. A door slamming. An airplane. The hum of the air conditioner. A voice. My breath. In the slowness I feel that I can be in my body and also on the street at the same time. Listening, tuning in.
Imagine the rooms beneath me and above. The buildings next to the one I’m in. The soil underneath this building, full of unseen life. The sky above this ceiling, above me. Sensing the vastness of the world I live in helps me find my center, but I’m more free at the same time.
At one point, I can’t tell if I’m falling or if the earth is carrying me. Eiko + Koma probably have something to say about that idea.
Something different is happening in this drawing than the others. I like it, I’m not sure why.
I sit and write and think about Ralph Lemon and his shift towards a project-based company. He wanted to make his process more visible: his writing, his drawing, his film, his voice, his discussions. It makes him and his work enigmatic.
I’m wondering about how to do the same thing for myself.