The sound of collapse?
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhp p p p p p
rrrrrrffffffffff. Ffffh FFFhhh FFFFhhhhh.
Hhhhhhhuuuoraaaaahaaaraaalaasaaa. Eaah. Eaaahhh he e a aa aa hhhh. hh
heblaaawlaaaa. bsrasraaasaaaa. ra. s a a r a a a .
Inevitable, as if coming from the depths of the Earth, this roar is unavoidable. Like an earthquake, where colossal forces confront each other, this melody arises. With a single note, a pure sound, imperceptible as the source is so far away, the rhythm of the collapse is felt. A real blossoming, so slow, but also so powerful. An unstoppable beat.
If not theater I’d probably be a teacher for children in the movement area. Could also be maths 😉
Stehen wir still oder fallen wir mit unglaublicher Geschwindigkeit durchs Universum und das auf geordneten Bahnen oder in so komplexer Weise, dass das Ganze eher der Brownschen Molekularbewegung innerhalb einer heißen Tasse Tee gleicht? Mir scheint das Harmonie und Kollaps zwei Extrempunkte
eines Systems sind, die sich gegenseitig ergänzen und brauchen um zu existieren und je vom Fallpunkt aus betrachtet verschieden erscheinen.
Humans are abstract beings, that can decide if they are part of life or not.
They have the possibility to develop abstract structures and creations to explain themselves what life is about.
Humans are destructive animals trying to prove that they are right in what they do.
The videowork Catherine’s Room from Bill Viola.
I am waiting for the washing machine to finish and for the dinner to be served. I Also wait for summer, heat, a day in the forest, sleep, covid to die, and my nephew to be born. Sometimes I wait for good Tafel oranges.
SAP, BARK, SPRING.
GROWTH, ROOTS, LEAVES.
LIGHT, GRAVITY, SCENT.
WIND, WIND, WIND.
ROOTS, MUSHROOMS, SOIL.
LIGHTNING, DECAY, MOSS.
DEER, BIRD, WORM
TOUCH OF HAND
TOUCH OF WING
TOUCH OF ANTLER
TOUCH OF TREE
TOUCH OF TREE
TOUCH OF TREE
…a bookseller. A small antiquarian bookshop next to nowhere, big red armchairs, a small collection of English poetry, Wordsworth and Coleridge, a huge shelf of children books and a cup of homemade hot choclate in pottery cups for everyone who enters.
At the moment an installation by Chiraru Shiota!
Trees would rather feel than think, but if they thought they would think about feeling.
If art is used as a general term it would be the crystal palace in Madrid. When the sun shines through the glass there you can see colorful light everywhere. If it had to be a picture, the “Altarpiece – No 1 – Series X”, painted by Hilma af Klint is something I would love to look on forever. It plays with geometric shapes an color schemes, there is something spiritual and holy in it.
Once upon a time I had an organ teacher suffering from great stress, because she was smelling very bad out of the mouth. During the class I tried to hold my breath and breath the least possible, to not smell it.
I don’t think that a human is controlling me or you. We are controlling us by our self. Everything is happening how it happens. It is still running without control and it is still running on and on and on… we will see what is happening in the future!
I used to think that certain mind constructions, or behavior patterns where my demons. I used to hate them, want them away. But I’m learning to face them. Not push them away and instead try to understand them. Understanding that all these ‘demons’ wanting my loving attention. Like a little child that screams and when you don’t give them the care they need, they will start being louder and louder. My demons became my teachers of compassion.
I try to find the question in my practical live, avoiding theoretical
discourses. Seeing what live is asking me, what I should answer with my personal life. For example: Nature gives a lot questions…is good to be open in perceivingI used to think that certain mind constructions, or behavior patterns where my demons. I used to hate them, want them away. But I’m learning to face them. Not push them away and instead try to understand them. Understanding that all these ‘demons’ wanting my loving attention. Like a little child that screams and when you don’t give them the care they need, they will start being louder and louder. My demons became my teachers of compassion.
As an Improviser, my Religion has become “Yes, AND…”, I notice how when I was first introduced to this philosophy long ago, I had to practice it consciously and that over time it finally sunk into my subconscious. Yet I catch myself monitoring myself daily – especially when I find myself saying NO to something – I then ask myself; is it really not possible? This continuously gives me room to grow…. it’s challenging, sometimes scary, but mostly empowering.
My favorite children’s book is about a very unpolite children. His mama beat him on the popo every day because of his bad behaving, till the moment that the popo, after being hit so much, decide to leave. The children without popo can not do a lot of things, like sitting.
Popo will return when the children changes his behaving.
My future plans.
I was in the car, my mom was driving and I sat in my grandma’s lap. We were driving towards the city center of my hometown. As we were crossing the bridge above the river I peed on my grandma. I remember her words: “Oh, Jesus and Mary, my new skirt!”
It depends on the people.
Often you must be tolerance because you see the wall in-front of the person.
It’s hard to get through the wall. But sometimes you can find a hole.
I would like to go more for tolerance but often I can’t see the hole. And then it’s just consume my energy.
Opening up. Being fluid and just flowing below, above and around ipotetical attacks and dangers. You can not cut the water because it is embracing and letting your knife enter, surrounding it.
Nature is full of very small and beautiful details that answer any big question I ask.
The organization of beauty.
A sculpture hidden in a lump of clay? A statue carved from a block of stone? A lifelong performance meandering between comedy and tragedy? In the end, anything can be a piece of art, you just have to find the right angle to look at it from. Sometimes I find it, sometimes I don’t.
Normally they are asked by the people who surround me.
often they appear in my head because i want to understand something.
they appear from books, in art or in nature…
and box… rarely they are written on a piece of paper that I picked from a small wooden
The last time I really listened was in an “Empathy circle”: the exercise was about focusing all of our attention on someone, and this someone could talk, or not!
I heard the peaceful and wise energy of the person I was focusing on, a little bit like when you listen to the waves of the ocean and that it makes you relax…
Sometimes feeling of my dreams at night stays for whole day, remembering me of unconscious thoughts.
I have to be four years old. I am sitting on a couch and talking with my mother when the ambulance arrives in our backyard. Until then ambulances were only toys or on TV – this one stopped at our backyard. And I can’t believe my eyes that my smaller brother comes out of it. He is fully wrapped since it’s winter and later I found out that he was taken to the hospital because he’s got pneumonia…. There is another memory but I don’t know whether it’s older or not since it’s abstract – I remember a tree, perfectly shaped with majestic canopy.
My favorite childrensbook is SOFIES WELT by Jostein Gaarder – I used to read it, when I was a child, I loved his books!