We actually are Earth. We really, really are just animated bits of the Earth's crust, so to talk about us and the Earth is the wrong paradigm. It's not us and Earth. We actually are Earth. Tim Flannery
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/mar/14/tim-flannery-here-on-earth
Wednesday 10 November 2010
AN UNIMAGINABLE EXISTENCE
IS THERE A LIFE AFTER BIRTH?
A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWINS IN THE WOMB
Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived in the womb. Seconds, minutes, hours passed as the two dormant lives developed. The spark of life flowed until it fanned the fire with the formation of their embryonic brains. With their simple brains came feeling, and with feeling perception; a perception of surroundings, of each other, of self. Weeks passed into months, and with the advent of each new month, they noticed a change in each other and each began to sec changes in himself.
“We are changing,” said the one, “What can it mean?”
“It means,” replied the other, “that we are drawing near to birth”.
An unsettling chill crept over the two. They knew that birth meant leaving all their world behind.
“What do you think? Mightn’t there be a life after birth?” asked the one.
“Yes, I think so. Our existence here is just meant to grow and develop in order to prepare ourselves for the life after birth so that we will be strong enough for what we will meet".
“How can there be life after birth?” cried the one, “How would it look like?"
"Well, I do not know that exactly. But at least it will surely be much brighter than it is here. And maybe we will walk around and feed ourselves with our mouth."
What nonsense! How can that be, walking around? That is impossible. And eating with your mouth, what an extraordinary idea! We have the umbilical cord that nourishes us, isn't it? And walking around will also be impaired by that cord, even now it is nearly much too short".
"Yet, I think it exists. Everything will just be a little bit different from the circumstances here".
"Have you ever talked to one who has been born? Has anyone ever re-entered the womb after birth? NO! With birth our lives will end. And life in her is just a dark and tormenting. That is all.” He fell into despair, and in his despair he moaned, “If the purpose of conception and all our growth is that it ends in birth, then truly our life is absurd”.
"Though I do not exactly know how life after birth will look like, surely we will meet our mother then and she will take care of us", said the one.
“Mother? You believe in the existence of a mother?"
“But there is a mother” protested the other. “Who else gave us nourishment and our world?’
“We get our own nourishment, and our world has always been here. And if there is a mother, where is she? Have you ever seen her? Does she ever talk to you? NO! We invented the mother because it satisfied a need in us. It made us feel secure and happy”.
“No, she is here, all around us. We live by her and in her. Without her we could not even exist!".
“Nonsense. I never have noticed anything of 'a mother'. So she does not exist at all".
„Yet, sometimes, when we are quiet, you may hear her sing for us. Or feel how she caresses our world".
Possibly after Henri Nouwen (Dutch priest and writer (1932 - 1996)
Recieved from a student in the course at Studienhaus Kaiser, Schlangenbad-Hause von der Höhe, November 2004 (jaap van der Wal)
From: http://home.unet.nl/walembryo/epeovv.htm
A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWINS IN THE WOMB
Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived in the womb. Seconds, minutes, hours passed as the two dormant lives developed. The spark of life flowed until it fanned the fire with the formation of their embryonic brains. With their simple brains came feeling, and with feeling perception; a perception of surroundings, of each other, of self. Weeks passed into months, and with the advent of each new month, they noticed a change in each other and each began to sec changes in himself.
“We are changing,” said the one, “What can it mean?”
“It means,” replied the other, “that we are drawing near to birth”.
An unsettling chill crept over the two. They knew that birth meant leaving all their world behind.
“What do you think? Mightn’t there be a life after birth?” asked the one.
“Yes, I think so. Our existence here is just meant to grow and develop in order to prepare ourselves for the life after birth so that we will be strong enough for what we will meet".
“How can there be life after birth?” cried the one, “How would it look like?"
"Well, I do not know that exactly. But at least it will surely be much brighter than it is here. And maybe we will walk around and feed ourselves with our mouth."
What nonsense! How can that be, walking around? That is impossible. And eating with your mouth, what an extraordinary idea! We have the umbilical cord that nourishes us, isn't it? And walking around will also be impaired by that cord, even now it is nearly much too short".
"Yet, I think it exists. Everything will just be a little bit different from the circumstances here".
"Have you ever talked to one who has been born? Has anyone ever re-entered the womb after birth? NO! With birth our lives will end. And life in her is just a dark and tormenting. That is all.” He fell into despair, and in his despair he moaned, “If the purpose of conception and all our growth is that it ends in birth, then truly our life is absurd”.
"Though I do not exactly know how life after birth will look like, surely we will meet our mother then and she will take care of us", said the one.
“Mother? You believe in the existence of a mother?"
“But there is a mother” protested the other. “Who else gave us nourishment and our world?’
“We get our own nourishment, and our world has always been here. And if there is a mother, where is she? Have you ever seen her? Does she ever talk to you? NO! We invented the mother because it satisfied a need in us. It made us feel secure and happy”.
“No, she is here, all around us. We live by her and in her. Without her we could not even exist!".
“Nonsense. I never have noticed anything of 'a mother'. So she does not exist at all".
„Yet, sometimes, when we are quiet, you may hear her sing for us. Or feel how she caresses our world".
Possibly after Henri Nouwen (Dutch priest and writer (1932 - 1996)
Recieved from a student in the course at Studienhaus Kaiser, Schlangenbad-Hause von der Höhe, November 2004 (jaap van der Wal)
From: http://home.unet.nl/walembryo/epeovv.htm
Sunday 24 October 2010
are we going backwards?
deep anger, frustration and sadness came to visit me after the show
young women dressed in white walking toward me shifting their hips from side to side
no sense of ground no sense of orientation towards space
their thighs naked their skin exposed
loud music and the reiteration of old stories about sexism and gender issues
what did our mothers fight for?
years of protests went into ashes within a 20 minutes choreography
and then the question: what is education? does education involve evolution?
is education about reflection? can they see their reflection?
is it about learning from the past in order to present new options for the now? is it about seeing? is it about sensing? is it about thinking of a possible future wet with values and a VIEW?
young women dressed in white walking toward me shifting their hips from side to side
no sense of ground no sense of orientation towards space
their thighs naked their skin exposed
loud music and the reiteration of old stories about sexism and gender issues
what did our mothers fight for?
years of protests went into ashes within a 20 minutes choreography
and then the question: what is education? does education involve evolution?
is education about reflection? can they see their reflection?
is it about learning from the past in order to present new options for the now? is it about seeing? is it about sensing? is it about thinking of a possible future wet with values and a VIEW?
Storiellina acquatica
I pensieri delle donne si dissolvono in pozzanghere verde oliva.
Dalla stessa acqua rinascono ed evaporano i loro pensieri contorti intricati mai chiari.
I loro corpi rispondono con l'essenza del vivere:
l'immobilita' prima del movimento.
Il corpo e' silente
il pensiero e' mobile variabile in continua evoluzione.
Il mito moderno: tuta e scarpe da ginnastica
e una vibrazione costante dovuta dal caso
dal dopo dalla paura di perdere il prima e non potervi piu' tornare.
Immobile descrizione di un istante
volatile come il vapore che esce da una pentola sul fuoco.
IL pesaggio circostante risiede nella pozzanghera stessa.
La pozzanghera e' il fulcro.
L'intorno e' da cornice.
Occhi di donna che guardano il cielo
con gli occhi l'aria
la nuca nell'acqua
il corpo sulla terra.
Una storia con un inizio senza un durante e senza una fine.
Solo e soltanto pensieri acquatici che risiedono nella sostanza stessa dell'acqua.
Autunno 2002
Dalla stessa acqua rinascono ed evaporano i loro pensieri contorti intricati mai chiari.
I loro corpi rispondono con l'essenza del vivere:
l'immobilita' prima del movimento.
Il corpo e' silente
il pensiero e' mobile variabile in continua evoluzione.
Il mito moderno: tuta e scarpe da ginnastica
e una vibrazione costante dovuta dal caso
dal dopo dalla paura di perdere il prima e non potervi piu' tornare.
Immobile descrizione di un istante
volatile come il vapore che esce da una pentola sul fuoco.
IL pesaggio circostante risiede nella pozzanghera stessa.
La pozzanghera e' il fulcro.
L'intorno e' da cornice.
Occhi di donna che guardano il cielo
con gli occhi l'aria
la nuca nell'acqua
il corpo sulla terra.
Una storia con un inizio senza un durante e senza una fine.
Solo e soltanto pensieri acquatici che risiedono nella sostanza stessa dell'acqua.
Autunno 2002
Monday 23 August 2010
on falling [five]
I don't know how many people will have the patience to read all 72 definitions of falling ... I found it really fascinating! Enjoy it!
TO FALL
1. to drop or descend under the force of gravity, as to a lower place through loss or lack of support.
2. to come or drop down suddenly to a lower position, esp. to leave a standing or erect position suddenly, whether voluntarily or not: to fall on one's knees.
3. to become less or lower; become of a lower level, degree, amount, quality, value, number, etc.; decline: The temperature fell ten degrees. Stock prices fell to a new low for the year.
4. to subside or abate.
5. extend downward; hang down: Her hair falls to her shoulders.
6. to become lowered or directed downward, as the eyes: My eyes fell before his steady gaze.
7. to become lower in pitch or volume: Her voice fell, and she looked about in confusion.
8. to succumb to temptation or sin, esp. to become unchaste or to lose one's innocence.
9. to lose status, dignity, position, character, etc.
10. to succumb to attack: The city fell to the enemy.
11. to be overthrown, as a government.
12. to drop down wounded or dead, esp. to be slain: to fall in battle.
13. to pass into some physical, mental, or emotional condition: to fall asleep; to fall in love.
14. to envelop or come as if by dropping, as stillness or night.
15. to issue forth: Witty remarks fall easily from his lips.
16. to come by lot or chance: The chore fell to him.
17. to come by chance into a particular position: to fall among thieves.
18. to come to pass, occur, or become at a certain time: Christmas falls on a Monday this year. The rent falls due the first of every month.
19. to have its proper place: The accent falls on the last syllable.
20. to come by right: The inheritance fell to the only living relative.
21. to be naturally divisible (usually fol. by into ): The story fell into two distinct parts.
22. to lose animation; appear disappointed, as the face: His face fell when he heard the bad news.
23. to slope or extend in a downward direction: The field falls gently to the river.
24. to be directed, as light, sight, etc., on something: His eyes fell upon the note on the desk.
25. to collapse, as through weakness, damage, poor construction, or the like; topple or sink: The old tower fell under its own weight. The cake fell when he slammed the oven door.
26. (of an animal, esp. a lamb) to be born: Two lambs fell yesterday.
–verb (used with object)
27. to fell (a tree, animal, etc.).
–noun
28. an act or instance of falling or dropping from a higher to a lower place or position.
29. that which falls or drops: a heavy fall of rain.
30. the season of the year that comes after summer and before winter; autumn.
31. a becoming less; a lowering or decline; a sinking to a lower level: the fall of the Roman Empire.
32. the distance through which anything falls: It is a long fall to the ground from this height.
33. Usually, falls. a cataract or waterfall.
34. downward slope or declivity: the gentle rise and fall of the meadow.
35. a falling from an erect position, as to the ground: to have a bad fall.
36. a hanging down: a fall of long hair.
37. a succumbing to temptation; lapse into sin.
38. the Fall, ( sometimes lowercase ) Theology . the lapse of human beings into a state of natural or innate sinfulness through the sin of Adam and Eve.
39. Slang . an arrest by the police.
40. surrender or capture, as of a city.
41. proper place: the fall of an accent on a syllable.
42. Wrestling .
a. an act or instance of holding or forcing an opponent's shoulders against the mat for a specified length of time.
b. a match or division of a match.
43. a hairpiece consisting of long hair that is attached to one's own hair at the crown and usually allowed to hang freely down the back of the head so as to cover or blend with the natural hair.
44. an opaque veil hanging loose from the back of a hat.
45. falling band.
46. a decorative cascade of lace, ruffles, or the like.
47. Machinery, Nautical . the part of the rope of a tackle to which the power is applied in hoisting.
48. Hunting . a deadfall.
49. the long soft hair that hangs over the forehead and eyes of certain terriers.
50. Armor . a pivoted peak projecting over the face opening of a burgonet.
51. Astrology . the sign of the zodiac in which the most negative influence of a planet is expressed (as opposed to exaltation ).
52. Mining . rock or ore that has collapsed from a roof, hanging wall, or the sides of a passage.
—Verb phrases
53. fall away,
a. to withdraw support or allegiance: The candidate's supporters fell away when he advocated racial discrimination.
b. to become lean or thin; diminish; decline.
c. to forsake one's faith, cause, or principles: Many fell away because they were afraid of reprisals.
54. fall back, to give way; recede; retreat: The relentless shelling forced the enemy to fall back.
55. fall back on / upon,
a. Also, fall back to. to retreat to: They fell back on their entrenchments. The troops fell back to their original position.
b. to have recourse to; rely on: They had no savings to fall back on.
56. fall behind,
a. to lag, in pace or progress: We are falling behind in our work. Fatigued, some of the marchers fell behind.
b. to fail to pay (a debt, obligation, etc.) at the appointed time: She fell behind in her tax payments, and the property was confiscated.
57. fall down, Informal . to perform disappointingly; to disappoint; fail: He was doing well on the exam until he fell down on the last essay question.
58. fall for, Slang .
a. to be deceived by: Imagine falling for such an old trick.
b. to fall in love with: He's not at all the type you would expect her to fall for.
59. fall in,
a. to fall to pieces toward the interior; sink inward.
b. to take one's place in the ranks, as a soldier.
c. Also, fall in with. to become acquainted with, esp. by chance: We fell in with an interesting couple from Paris.
60. fall off,
a. to separate from; withdraw.
b. to decrease in number, amount, or intensity; diminish: Tourism falls off when the summer is over.
c. Nautical . to deviate from the heading; fall to leeward.
d. South Midland and Southern U.S. to lose weight, usually due to illness: She was sick all winter and fell off till she was just skin and bones.
61. fall on / upon,
a. to assault; attack: The enemy fell on them suddenly from the rear.
b. to be the obligation of: It has fallen on me to support the family.
c. to experience; encounter: Once well-to-do, they had fallen on hard times.
d. to chance upon; come upon: I fell upon the idea while looking through a magazine.
62. fall out,
a. to quarrel; disagree: We fell out over who was to wash the dishes.
b. to happen; occur: It fell out that we met by chance weeks later.
c. to leave one's place in the ranks, as a soldier: They were ordered to fall out when the parade ended.
d. Slang . to burst out laughing.
e. South Midland and Southern U.S. to become unconscious; pass out.
63. fall through, to come to nothing; fail of realization: Despite all his efforts, the deal fell through.
64. fall to,
a. to apply oneself; begin: to fall to work.
b. to begin to eat: They fell to and soon finished off the entire turkey.
65. fall under,
a. to be the concern or responsibility of.
b. to be classified as; be included within: That case falls under the heading of errors of judgment.
—Idioms
66. fall all over oneself, to show unusual or excessive enthusiasm or eagerness, esp. in the hope of being favored or rewarded: The young trainees fell all over themselves to praise the boss's speech. Also, fall over oneself.
67. fall / comeshort. short ( def. 47 ) .
68. fall foul / afoulof. foul ( def. 38 ) .
69. fall off the roof, Slang: Older Use . to menstruate.
70. fall on one's feet. land ( def. 25 ) .
71. fall out of bed, to get out of bed quickly.
72. fall over backward(s),
a. bend ( def. 15 ) .
b. to exhibit great eagerness, esp. in pursuit of one's own advantage: The candidate fell over backward in support of the issues that would win votes.
http://dictionary.reference.com
TO FALL
1. to drop or descend under the force of gravity, as to a lower place through loss or lack of support.
2. to come or drop down suddenly to a lower position, esp. to leave a standing or erect position suddenly, whether voluntarily or not: to fall on one's knees.
3. to become less or lower; become of a lower level, degree, amount, quality, value, number, etc.; decline: The temperature fell ten degrees. Stock prices fell to a new low for the year.
4. to subside or abate.
5. extend downward; hang down: Her hair falls to her shoulders.
6. to become lowered or directed downward, as the eyes: My eyes fell before his steady gaze.
7. to become lower in pitch or volume: Her voice fell, and she looked about in confusion.
8. to succumb to temptation or sin, esp. to become unchaste or to lose one's innocence.
9. to lose status, dignity, position, character, etc.
10. to succumb to attack: The city fell to the enemy.
11. to be overthrown, as a government.
12. to drop down wounded or dead, esp. to be slain: to fall in battle.
13. to pass into some physical, mental, or emotional condition: to fall asleep; to fall in love.
14. to envelop or come as if by dropping, as stillness or night.
15. to issue forth: Witty remarks fall easily from his lips.
16. to come by lot or chance: The chore fell to him.
17. to come by chance into a particular position: to fall among thieves.
18. to come to pass, occur, or become at a certain time: Christmas falls on a Monday this year. The rent falls due the first of every month.
19. to have its proper place: The accent falls on the last syllable.
20. to come by right: The inheritance fell to the only living relative.
21. to be naturally divisible (usually fol. by into ): The story fell into two distinct parts.
22. to lose animation; appear disappointed, as the face: His face fell when he heard the bad news.
23. to slope or extend in a downward direction: The field falls gently to the river.
24. to be directed, as light, sight, etc., on something: His eyes fell upon the note on the desk.
25. to collapse, as through weakness, damage, poor construction, or the like; topple or sink: The old tower fell under its own weight. The cake fell when he slammed the oven door.
26. (of an animal, esp. a lamb) to be born: Two lambs fell yesterday.
–verb (used with object)
27. to fell (a tree, animal, etc.).
–noun
28. an act or instance of falling or dropping from a higher to a lower place or position.
29. that which falls or drops: a heavy fall of rain.
30. the season of the year that comes after summer and before winter; autumn.
31. a becoming less; a lowering or decline; a sinking to a lower level: the fall of the Roman Empire.
32. the distance through which anything falls: It is a long fall to the ground from this height.
33. Usually, falls. a cataract or waterfall.
34. downward slope or declivity: the gentle rise and fall of the meadow.
35. a falling from an erect position, as to the ground: to have a bad fall.
36. a hanging down: a fall of long hair.
37. a succumbing to temptation; lapse into sin.
38. the Fall, ( sometimes lowercase ) Theology . the lapse of human beings into a state of natural or innate sinfulness through the sin of Adam and Eve.
39. Slang . an arrest by the police.
40. surrender or capture, as of a city.
41. proper place: the fall of an accent on a syllable.
42. Wrestling .
a. an act or instance of holding or forcing an opponent's shoulders against the mat for a specified length of time.
b. a match or division of a match.
43. a hairpiece consisting of long hair that is attached to one's own hair at the crown and usually allowed to hang freely down the back of the head so as to cover or blend with the natural hair.
44. an opaque veil hanging loose from the back of a hat.
45. falling band.
46. a decorative cascade of lace, ruffles, or the like.
47. Machinery, Nautical . the part of the rope of a tackle to which the power is applied in hoisting.
48. Hunting . a deadfall.
49. the long soft hair that hangs over the forehead and eyes of certain terriers.
50. Armor . a pivoted peak projecting over the face opening of a burgonet.
51. Astrology . the sign of the zodiac in which the most negative influence of a planet is expressed (as opposed to exaltation ).
52. Mining . rock or ore that has collapsed from a roof, hanging wall, or the sides of a passage.
—Verb phrases
53. fall away,
a. to withdraw support or allegiance: The candidate's supporters fell away when he advocated racial discrimination.
b. to become lean or thin; diminish; decline.
c. to forsake one's faith, cause, or principles: Many fell away because they were afraid of reprisals.
54. fall back, to give way; recede; retreat: The relentless shelling forced the enemy to fall back.
55. fall back on / upon,
a. Also, fall back to. to retreat to: They fell back on their entrenchments. The troops fell back to their original position.
b. to have recourse to; rely on: They had no savings to fall back on.
56. fall behind,
a. to lag, in pace or progress: We are falling behind in our work. Fatigued, some of the marchers fell behind.
b. to fail to pay (a debt, obligation, etc.) at the appointed time: She fell behind in her tax payments, and the property was confiscated.
57. fall down, Informal . to perform disappointingly; to disappoint; fail: He was doing well on the exam until he fell down on the last essay question.
58. fall for, Slang .
a. to be deceived by: Imagine falling for such an old trick.
b. to fall in love with: He's not at all the type you would expect her to fall for.
59. fall in,
a. to fall to pieces toward the interior; sink inward.
b. to take one's place in the ranks, as a soldier.
c. Also, fall in with. to become acquainted with, esp. by chance: We fell in with an interesting couple from Paris.
60. fall off,
a. to separate from; withdraw.
b. to decrease in number, amount, or intensity; diminish: Tourism falls off when the summer is over.
c. Nautical . to deviate from the heading; fall to leeward.
d. South Midland and Southern U.S. to lose weight, usually due to illness: She was sick all winter and fell off till she was just skin and bones.
61. fall on / upon,
a. to assault; attack: The enemy fell on them suddenly from the rear.
b. to be the obligation of: It has fallen on me to support the family.
c. to experience; encounter: Once well-to-do, they had fallen on hard times.
d. to chance upon; come upon: I fell upon the idea while looking through a magazine.
62. fall out,
a. to quarrel; disagree: We fell out over who was to wash the dishes.
b. to happen; occur: It fell out that we met by chance weeks later.
c. to leave one's place in the ranks, as a soldier: They were ordered to fall out when the parade ended.
d. Slang . to burst out laughing.
e. South Midland and Southern U.S. to become unconscious; pass out.
63. fall through, to come to nothing; fail of realization: Despite all his efforts, the deal fell through.
64. fall to,
a. to apply oneself; begin: to fall to work.
b. to begin to eat: They fell to and soon finished off the entire turkey.
65. fall under,
a. to be the concern or responsibility of.
b. to be classified as; be included within: That case falls under the heading of errors of judgment.
—Idioms
66. fall all over oneself, to show unusual or excessive enthusiasm or eagerness, esp. in the hope of being favored or rewarded: The young trainees fell all over themselves to praise the boss's speech. Also, fall over oneself.
67. fall / comeshort. short ( def. 47 ) .
68. fall foul / afoulof. foul ( def. 38 ) .
69. fall off the roof, Slang: Older Use . to menstruate.
70. fall on one's feet. land ( def. 25 ) .
71. fall out of bed, to get out of bed quickly.
72. fall over backward(s),
a. bend ( def. 15 ) .
b. to exhibit great eagerness, esp. in pursuit of one's own advantage: The candidate fell over backward in support of the issues that would win votes.
http://dictionary.reference.com
Sunday 22 August 2010
on falling [three]
'Catching the infinite
possibilities of falling'
into traveling and ––––
direction could shift
a piece and two
why not three
an image a score
I call you
you said yes
I am ––– standing
a catch a fall I wait
I walk - walking
walking the longest walk
I am standing
I am spiraling
I am catching
I am moving
I am catching ––– you
in motion
the spinning and pushing
and rolling and waiting
I agree
I fall - the ground
never
been
never
gone
too
far
I keep it
I am rolling
still rolling
not yet
I am pausing
I am out
I am –––
rolling wheels
calling
again
and
again
and again
A STAND
I just fell
PAUSE
I just feel I told you
I just fell I told you
I just wanted to tell you
that I fell feel fell feel
I just wanted to say that
I am holding it
I just wanted to say that
I am staying
I just wanted to say that
I can only go backwards
through the orange pathway
I can show you my ankles
you'll be surprised
how much weight they can hold.
I can walk backward
say it
and run away.
The orange pathway
and the infinite
possibilities of calling.
Moving into writing into moving into writing...
From the workshop 'Writing From the Body' led by Cheryl Pallant - 14th August 2010
possibilities of falling'
into traveling and ––––
direction could shift
a piece and two
why not three
an image a score
I call you
you said yes
I am ––– standing
a catch a fall I wait
I walk - walking
walking the longest walk
I am standing
I am spiraling
I am catching
I am moving
I am catching ––– you
in motion
the spinning and pushing
and rolling and waiting
I agree
I fall - the ground
never
been
never
gone
too
far
I keep it
I am rolling
still rolling
not yet
I am pausing
I am out
I am –––
rolling wheels
calling
again
and
again
and again
A STAND
I just fell
PAUSE
I just feel I told you
I just fell I told you
I just wanted to tell you
that I fell feel fell feel
I just wanted to say that
I am holding it
I just wanted to say that
I am staying
I just wanted to say that
I can only go backwards
through the orange pathway
I can show you my ankles
you'll be surprised
how much weight they can hold.
I can walk backward
say it
and run away.
The orange pathway
and the infinite
possibilities of calling.
Moving into writing into moving into writing...
From the workshop 'Writing From the Body' led by Cheryl Pallant - 14th August 2010
on falling [one]
one day I fell
it took me months to stand up again
and one day I fell
as any other days I realized that I could stand up again
and I fell
I found my feet
and I fell
I thought the ground would be there
and one day
I left
and I fell
searching for the reality of gravity
and one day I fell
one day
I stood up again
and I fell
wondering how far the ground would be
and one day
I fell
again
and I fell
I stoop up with a song in my mind
and a flower in my hands
and I fell
my head landed on soft skin
and one day
I fell
one day
I landed and rolled for days and days
I didn't stand up
and I fell
one day
I fell
one day I fell
and one day
I fell
calling for the ground to meet my skin
and I fell
the hard edges of my bones met the ground
and one day
I softened
and I fell
one day
I fell
I looked up and it was there
I found it
and I fell
one day
I fell
and I fell
and I fell
I found the ground
and I fell
again
I was there
and I fell
I stoop up
and I fell
and one day
my skull met the ground
I stood up
and I fell
I forgot I fell
and one day
I fell again
and I fell
I stood up
and fell
it took me months to stand up again
and one day I fell
as any other days I realized that I could stand up again
and I fell
I found my feet
and I fell
I thought the ground would be there
and one day
I left
and I fell
searching for the reality of gravity
and one day I fell
one day
I stood up again
and I fell
wondering how far the ground would be
and one day
I fell
again
and I fell
I stoop up with a song in my mind
and a flower in my hands
and I fell
my head landed on soft skin
and one day
I fell
one day
I landed and rolled for days and days
I didn't stand up
and I fell
one day
I fell
one day I fell
and one day
I fell
calling for the ground to meet my skin
and I fell
the hard edges of my bones met the ground
and one day
I softened
and I fell
one day
I fell
I looked up and it was there
I found it
and I fell
one day
I fell
and I fell
and I fell
I found the ground
and I fell
again
I was there
and I fell
I stoop up
and I fell
and one day
my skull met the ground
I stood up
and I fell
I forgot I fell
and one day
I fell again
and I fell
I stood up
and fell
Sunday 6 June 2010
Stories - written by my sister Francesca Recchia
I live on stories. Experienced or invented, imaginary and imagined. On stories to tell and stories to listen to. There are stories about possible projects and stories about shared memories and unforgettable adventures. There are stories that you tell hoping that by telling you will be able to forget. There are stories that help you understand what you think, where you stand and where you are going. And there are stories that are supposed to explain but instead create more confusion. Telling stories is a way to make the daily life special, to give value to small things, to focus the attention on details that otherwise would risk to be overlooked. I share the passion for stories with a love from the past and some friends from the present. The last few months brought in my life the encounter with photographers and journalists. The common interest for telling stories and living the stories we are telling brought us close and allowed us to share deep experiences. It is about curiosity, adrenaline, the sense of limit, the challenge of the unknown. And you collect details, you seek for the right word that could communicate smells and sensations of otherwise remote places. And then over a glass of wine you discuss about choices, directions taken, doubts about the present and adventures for the future.
To read more of her writings visit:
http://www.veleno.tv/bollettini/?lang=en
To read more of her writings visit:
http://www.veleno.tv/bollettini/?lang=en
Sunday 21 February 2010
Native American Ten Commandments
1. Treat the Earth and all that dwell therein with respect
2. Remain close to the Great Spirit
3. Show great respect for your fellow beings
4. Work together for the benefit of all Mankind
5. Give assistance and kindness wherever needed
6. Do what you know to be right
7. Look after the well-being of Mind and Body
8. Dedicate a share of your efforts to the greater Good
9. Be truthful and honest at all times
10. Take full responsibility for your actions
http://www.legendsofamerica.com/NA-Proverbs2.html
2. Remain close to the Great Spirit
3. Show great respect for your fellow beings
4. Work together for the benefit of all Mankind
5. Give assistance and kindness wherever needed
6. Do what you know to be right
7. Look after the well-being of Mind and Body
8. Dedicate a share of your efforts to the greater Good
9. Be truthful and honest at all times
10. Take full responsibility for your actions
http://www.legendsofamerica.com/NA-Proverbs2.html
Saturday 20 February 2010
myself in relationship with dance (1984 at present)
Dance has been my companion since I was a child. My journey in the dance world started when I was five studying ballet. Since then I haven’t spent a day without spinning around, lifting a leg or rolling on the ground. I have been trained as a ballet dancer, wore tutu’ and point shoes for many years and then decided to shift my research in movement toward contemporary dance and improvisation. My professional life keeps shifting from performing, making my own work, teaching and researching in academic contexts. I see life and art intermingling in a constant dialogue of negotiations, choices, questions and discoveries. The starting point of my inquiries is the living body felt from within and its relation to the space that surrounds it. Movement in all its manifestations fascinates me. I think of movement and dance as tools to understand more of who I am, to find orientation and learn more about the way I relate to others. At the moment the main focus in my dance practice is in finding joy, pleasure and ease in movement. I believe in the importance of playing seriously in all occasions that art and life present.
Lewes – beginning of February
I have been given the privilege to be with a friend in the 40th week of her pregnancy. I am here - in Lewes - with her and her family in the transition phase between pregnancy and a life coming into the world. It is fantastic to be in such a small village, waking up with the sound of birds after being in London, exposed to high level of noises and an incredible amount of stimulation. Little seems to happen here. Small and meaningful activities that fill in the day until the evening comes. (Having breakfast, providing food and cooking it, spending time sitting in front of the fire while talking and thinking out loud in company, visiting the farmer's market, planting raspberries plants, observing someone's painting and listening to the story behind it, meeting new people who immediately feel familiar, inflating the birthing pool, preparing the space in which Hester will give birth, rubbing a big round belly.) Hester’s family gathers around a table every night for supper, discussing about the day and asking each other questions of all sorts.
While reading the book “Spiritual Midwifery” by Ina May Gaskin I came across this sentence: 'When a child is born, the entire Universe has to shift and make room'. Knowing that thousand of babies come into this world each minute I have started to think about space and how much of it I occupy.
I am sitting on the floor in my room, my legs long, my sitting-bones touching the ground, my upper back is supported by the side of the bed, the light is low and soft, a candle is on, the air is cool and I can hear the sound of the heater working.
Each person inhabits a certain amount of space, each daily activity requires a particular relation to space. Traveling takes the self on a journey of exposure to different climates, colors and to all sorts of interactions with people. The body constantly shifts in order to adjust to the new situation. In the last 2 years I have been traveling a lot – escaping at times or searching for stimuli and inputs in order to feel alive. I know I can understand myself more fully only when I step out of my routine and notice what my reactions are in relation to the situations I am exposed to.
Being in an open swimming pool outside Mumbai in water fully dressed drinking beer with a man clearly interested in me. Being in a dance space really open to sexuality in all its manifestations, being in Rome with a friend I have known for 16 years, then in Florence dancing in the main squares surrounded by statues made 600 years ago. And then finding myself in a Spa in Germany with my ears under water listening to Indian music, or being in a sauna at 90 degrees with 20 people naked sharing a funny ritual to get as much heat as possible from a man weaving a towel. And in London playing cards with two friends one of whom will leave the city and move back to Italy the following morning, being in the air between two cities realizing that a very expensive present was left behind lost for ever, being in my parents’ place in the country side in the centre of Italy under an amazing sky full of stars and a bit of snow left on the ground, walking and smoking with my sister to orient, arrive and feel the earth while walking, standing on a pavement with my ex partner freezing and wondering how to finally depart from each other, walking in the snow in Berlin with a group of new friends, having a soup in a Turkish restaurant talking about goodbyes. So many memories, each one connected to a place I have inhabited even for a very short time.
Do we leave traces? Can I live into this planet enjoying its beauty without consuming it? Can I consciously make space for newborn babies to be welcome into this world?
I wonder how awareness for what is present can enhance my ability to be in the world, fully attentive while contributing to a world of peace and respect towards others and myself.
Yesterday evening talking with Hester in front of the fire I was telling her about my difficulty to deal with lots of stimuli at the same time. Funny I just said I am purposefully doing it – is it because I enjoy challenge? Or is it because even our bones grow through experiencing and responding to resistance? It still is a matter of space! Something coming towards us can define our ability to deal with distances and make us understand how much space we actually need to live a healthy and joyous life. I am talking about the pleasure to exist. Inhabit our own dimension and being as tall as we actually are.
While reading the book “Spiritual Midwifery” by Ina May Gaskin I came across this sentence: 'When a child is born, the entire Universe has to shift and make room'. Knowing that thousand of babies come into this world each minute I have started to think about space and how much of it I occupy.
I am sitting on the floor in my room, my legs long, my sitting-bones touching the ground, my upper back is supported by the side of the bed, the light is low and soft, a candle is on, the air is cool and I can hear the sound of the heater working.
Each person inhabits a certain amount of space, each daily activity requires a particular relation to space. Traveling takes the self on a journey of exposure to different climates, colors and to all sorts of interactions with people. The body constantly shifts in order to adjust to the new situation. In the last 2 years I have been traveling a lot – escaping at times or searching for stimuli and inputs in order to feel alive. I know I can understand myself more fully only when I step out of my routine and notice what my reactions are in relation to the situations I am exposed to.
Being in an open swimming pool outside Mumbai in water fully dressed drinking beer with a man clearly interested in me. Being in a dance space really open to sexuality in all its manifestations, being in Rome with a friend I have known for 16 years, then in Florence dancing in the main squares surrounded by statues made 600 years ago. And then finding myself in a Spa in Germany with my ears under water listening to Indian music, or being in a sauna at 90 degrees with 20 people naked sharing a funny ritual to get as much heat as possible from a man weaving a towel. And in London playing cards with two friends one of whom will leave the city and move back to Italy the following morning, being in the air between two cities realizing that a very expensive present was left behind lost for ever, being in my parents’ place in the country side in the centre of Italy under an amazing sky full of stars and a bit of snow left on the ground, walking and smoking with my sister to orient, arrive and feel the earth while walking, standing on a pavement with my ex partner freezing and wondering how to finally depart from each other, walking in the snow in Berlin with a group of new friends, having a soup in a Turkish restaurant talking about goodbyes. So many memories, each one connected to a place I have inhabited even for a very short time.
Do we leave traces? Can I live into this planet enjoying its beauty without consuming it? Can I consciously make space for newborn babies to be welcome into this world?
I wonder how awareness for what is present can enhance my ability to be in the world, fully attentive while contributing to a world of peace and respect towards others and myself.
Yesterday evening talking with Hester in front of the fire I was telling her about my difficulty to deal with lots of stimuli at the same time. Funny I just said I am purposefully doing it – is it because I enjoy challenge? Or is it because even our bones grow through experiencing and responding to resistance? It still is a matter of space! Something coming towards us can define our ability to deal with distances and make us understand how much space we actually need to live a healthy and joyous life. I am talking about the pleasure to exist. Inhabit our own dimension and being as tall as we actually are.
Wednesday 9 September 2009
tight skin
Feeling the skin too tight
Expanding within it
Stretching arms and legs,
fingers and toes
in search for wider gloves and socks to inhabit
(photo by Rachel Cherry)
Expanding within it
Stretching arms and legs,
fingers and toes
in search for wider gloves and socks to inhabit
(photo by Rachel Cherry)
Childhood and Land
I grew up in a land surrounded by mountains, walking with bear feet on the soil which once was the bed of a lake.
I grew up knowing that my home was named as the trees that surrounds it.
I grew up counting the days in order to pick up red and juicy cherries.
I grew up tasting the soil and playing with grass.
I grew up knowing that butterflies have complex Latin names that I could never remember.
I grew up trying to distinguish the mushrooms that can be eaten to the once that could be lethal.
I grew up collecting stones imagining they were eggs and pieces of wood as pieces of bread.
I grew up waiting for a falling star to make a wish.
I grew up observing ants being busy transporting crumbles.
I grew up sensing the change of temperature between day and night.
I grew up throwing mandarin skin in the fire and linger until its smell would come back to me.
I grew up sliding down a snowy hill.
I grew up spreading my arm and transforming in a tree.
I grew up searching for eagles between the clouds.
I grew up stealing sweet corn in August and grape in October from my neighbour.
I grew up walking towards the red fountain to collect drinkable water.
I grew up falling asleep on a hummock hanging from two strong pine trunks.
I grew up dreaming that spiders would cover me and my skin would become black.
I grew up shaking tall grass with a wooden stick to make vipers escape.
I grew up learning how to catch a snake.
I grew up watering plants as soon as the sun would come down.
I grew up fearing the trembling of the plates that make the crust of planet earth.
I grew up listening to my dad’s stories of skiing under the full moon.
I grew up travelling and experiencing the flavours, the temperature, the colours of different lands.
I grew up acknowledging that I do not own my land, but I am just passing by it.
I grew up reflecting that ants are smaller than me and that I am smaller than a tree.
I grew up searching for the direction of the wind so that a boomerang could come back to me.
I grew up riding a horse with the sunrise, a dry field of wheat and wet sand as companions.
I grew up collecting rubbish under water, on the top of a mountain, on a vast grass field.
I grew up being with the land, on the land, changing at its pace, speaking its idiom and constantly being surprised by it.
I grew up knowing that my home was named as the trees that surrounds it.
I grew up counting the days in order to pick up red and juicy cherries.
I grew up tasting the soil and playing with grass.
I grew up knowing that butterflies have complex Latin names that I could never remember.
I grew up trying to distinguish the mushrooms that can be eaten to the once that could be lethal.
I grew up collecting stones imagining they were eggs and pieces of wood as pieces of bread.
I grew up waiting for a falling star to make a wish.
I grew up observing ants being busy transporting crumbles.
I grew up sensing the change of temperature between day and night.
I grew up throwing mandarin skin in the fire and linger until its smell would come back to me.
I grew up sliding down a snowy hill.
I grew up spreading my arm and transforming in a tree.
I grew up searching for eagles between the clouds.
I grew up stealing sweet corn in August and grape in October from my neighbour.
I grew up walking towards the red fountain to collect drinkable water.
I grew up falling asleep on a hummock hanging from two strong pine trunks.
I grew up dreaming that spiders would cover me and my skin would become black.
I grew up shaking tall grass with a wooden stick to make vipers escape.
I grew up learning how to catch a snake.
I grew up watering plants as soon as the sun would come down.
I grew up fearing the trembling of the plates that make the crust of planet earth.
I grew up listening to my dad’s stories of skiing under the full moon.
I grew up travelling and experiencing the flavours, the temperature, the colours of different lands.
I grew up acknowledging that I do not own my land, but I am just passing by it.
I grew up reflecting that ants are smaller than me and that I am smaller than a tree.
I grew up searching for the direction of the wind so that a boomerang could come back to me.
I grew up riding a horse with the sunrise, a dry field of wheat and wet sand as companions.
I grew up collecting rubbish under water, on the top of a mountain, on a vast grass field.
I grew up being with the land, on the land, changing at its pace, speaking its idiom and constantly being surprised by it.
Monday 7 September 2009
If my body is my home 02-06-2009
if my body is my home
my skin is a tent
a protecting shelter
it repairs me from rain and wind
it gives me shelter so I can rest and sleep
I go out and
look at the cloudy sky
I go out and
look at the stars
I can stay in or go out
I can stay or leave
I am lying and resting in my tent
I am silent
trying to perceive the mass of my body
to rest the weight of my shelter
on the supporting and
unpredictable surface of the Earth
my skin is a tent
a protecting shelter
it repairs me from rain and wind
it gives me shelter so I can rest and sleep
I go out and
look at the cloudy sky
I go out and
look at the stars
I can stay in or go out
I can stay or leave
I am lying and resting in my tent
I am silent
trying to perceive the mass of my body
to rest the weight of my shelter
on the supporting and
unpredictable surface of the Earth
Thursday 27 August 2009
On Touch
Each touch speaks of the infinite.
A point is touched and millions of cells are acknowledged.
A pause to feel what can be felt.
A point is touched and millions of cells are acknowledged.
A pause to feel what can be felt.
Friday 15 May 2009
travelling
When I travel I can feel my skin expanding, reaching beyond identity, roles and expectations.
My permeable container diffuses and melts with the air around it. The sense of self dissolves and becomes one with the environment.
in Italy - in April
a week spent in the country side
every morning I would go and press a button that would activate a mechanism to collect water in a tank
I needed to wait for 10 or 15 minutes and then switch it off
I would use that time to walk around trees and observe
every single day I had a surprise waiting for me
I decided not to bring the small digital camera with me
I was curious to see what would be left printed in my memory
a leaf falling apart, a selvatic orchid, a protuberance of a branch, a mushroom
I had to make peace with the Earth
my legs were still shaking after the earthquake in L'Aquila
my breath was up up up towards the throat
my spatial reference, my sense of ground was shaken
my feet were lightly touching the ground
was I almost touching the Earth?
I love being on the ground sensing the ground with the back of my head, my whole torso, the soles of the feet - but the Earth did not have the solidity that once had in my perception
a month and 9 days have passed and I am just starting to relax towards the Earth again
every morning I would go and press a button that would activate a mechanism to collect water in a tank
I needed to wait for 10 or 15 minutes and then switch it off
I would use that time to walk around trees and observe
every single day I had a surprise waiting for me
I decided not to bring the small digital camera with me
I was curious to see what would be left printed in my memory
a leaf falling apart, a selvatic orchid, a protuberance of a branch, a mushroom
I had to make peace with the Earth
my legs were still shaking after the earthquake in L'Aquila
my breath was up up up towards the throat
my spatial reference, my sense of ground was shaken
my feet were lightly touching the ground
was I almost touching the Earth?
I love being on the ground sensing the ground with the back of my head, my whole torso, the soles of the feet - but the Earth did not have the solidity that once had in my perception
a month and 9 days have passed and I am just starting to relax towards the Earth again
in Utrecht on the 24Apri09
On a Friday windy morning, I took a walk along one of the canals in the centre of Utrecht, NL. It was my first time there, I had a map I did not want to follow. I tried to get lost but I couldn't. I had too many visual references accumulated in 2 days of passing-by without - I thought - paying attention. So much of the environement touches us... much more than I realise. My eyes were drawn to small plants, contorted banches, the reflection of flying birds on dark green water, ants, a spiderweb. I am constantly surprised by the determination of nature and the spirit of adaptation of wilderness around human-made structures of bricks, concrete walls and pavements.beginning
skin:
container
permeability
inner&outer
impression/expression
touch
identity
land:
belonging
displacement
home
location
ground
soil
earth
container
permeability
inner&outer
impression/expression
touch
identity
land:
belonging
displacement
home
location
ground
soil
earth
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