Conjure
2019

Sometimes it is a long project to pull the body into a unit, or a loosely organized clump, that can handle going out into the world.  Sometimes the pulling together is more an unraveling, which also can get itself out the door.

Living – being in a body – is like cooking, like swimming, like falling, like unpacking, like weaving, unweaving, spinning, splashing, shrugging off, wriggling into, tango, the infinite slow dance, forgetting.

How do we manage this day in, night out, and all the sideways elements we don’t see coming.

This project started without an intent, and the process was an accumulation that changed with each piece.  The questions that arise are:  what are all the colored threads that live in the body and how do they know how to cooperate with each other, and how does it all assemble and function even when we are asleep, and am I my body or is my body a general location where I hang out?  Or am I creating a body each moment.  Is my body creating itself, and what am I doing?  And what’s for dinner?

And when can I run away?

And just be an animal.