Quadrat 1 and 2 (Beckett)

Another old favourite, rediscovered this morning.

[“Description: Cloaked, cowled figures wander in patterns to rhythm instruments.” *as well as the rhythmic shuffling of their own feet*]

This piece, more pared down, dare I say, than most of Beckett’s other stage work, opens up [in my mind] an enormous amount of space for reflection on a) choreography b) rhythm c) geometry d) the progressive disappearance of those others we connect to [co-trot with] – and as they one by one walk off stage are we then condemned to persist in our patterns as if the others were still with us rubbing the stage floor with their feet?

[Then, I think about beehives, and about six corners instead of four.]

Be all that as it may. Aside from the existential, it is mainly choreography this piece has made me think about, and I’m someone rapidly made to feel at odds with the unspoken choreography of busy public spaces.

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Two Collages [aglimpseof.com]

Two of my old[ish] visual poems [/collages] were snatched up by a glimpse of [an online journal focusing on hybrid and experimental narratives] for their meandering Uncontrollable Issue [go read the whole thing]

What is it? [Art made/occurring/appearing within the disorderly, the uncontrollable environment/body/self. An incident.]

See my pieces here.

Fever.

I just finished a diary entry which basically amounts to how badly I wish I were a Coen Brother. I don’t really, of course, because I’d miss being in this girl body, with the mind I grew into, and I’d miss being an only child, being thirty, being , and and and.

Also, if I were to choose someone else to be, I couldn’t really choose. The whole point of being yourself is that you don’t have to make that decision: you’re already there, looking into the lives of others without needing to participate or take over the bad with the good. You have your own bad, your own good, your own messy in-between.

What I’m trying to say is that although you may think I’m pressuring you, I hope you can find a way to do things today that challenge the state you’re in; perhaps things that you’ve been putting off because you don’t feel capable.

I know that, right now, the real world seems more hostile and confusing than the conveniently straightforward and self-contained artificial world of watching people go blabla online, but the only way to make the hostility less unbearable is to remind yourself (viscerally) that you can navigate the real world too.

I’m telling you things I already know, I being you of course.

Something has broken, sure, but endlessly playing in artificial world isn’t going to fix it.

Your sense of self & your belief in your abilities can only be fixed in the real world, by doing things – with your body, your hands, your ears, your tongue, your kickedy bouncedy feet.

I didn’t sleep well, had a super confusing dream about endless water slides and the pressure to laugh and splash around when confronted with the materiality of a water park.

There was also the dream about being a teenager who had been adopted by a neglectful vampire in Hollywood in the midst of what seemed like a makeup convention. In other words, the bout of flu I’m battling has well and truly taken over.