SPACE

Stepping in a huge yellow space. Within a circle, I am ready to move. Ready. Ready to fight the sensation of my tired body. My heavy mind. My eyes are closed. Let’s start. Let’s slowly seat. My hands are trying to find the papers. At the center of the circle. I feel them, the touch is soft. I put them away. I keep exploring. And now I am laying down on the floor. I am relaxed. It stops for a minute. The sweet and quiet voice is guiding us, it is reassuring. I am trusting it. I hear it well. I’m losing it. The voice is now far from me. It is a whisper. It comes back, it calms me. Now it is difficult to stay focus, I’m shifting away. My mind comes back to the space. I feel the floor. I am going away again. And I feel my body.  It needs to speak out loud. It is challenging to stay connected with the voice. I keep trying. By touching a piece of paper close to me, I now see colors. It is magical. Fuchsia it is. I keep touching things around me. I feel the page. It is not a random sheet of paper. It is an important one. It is a singular piece of paper. I save it in a safe place where I hope to find it again when I will open my eyes. I wish to protect it. I wish to know more about it. I don’t want it to be crumple. I don't want it to change. I want to know more about this paper I felt. I want to keep it with me along with the feeling she gave me: a feeling of security and excitement.  

DANCERS

I sense dancers moving around. Most of the time I feel them by mistake. Oops, my feet just touch some part of someone else body. Was it an arm? A leg? Or maybe a head? I’m being careful and my skin slightly touch some other skins. I hear them now. At least I hear them crumpling papers. It sounds like a wave. Now I crumple papers too. I realize I am still fighting the tiredness. Sometimes I’m slow. Sometimes I’m fast. I rearrange the papers. I don’t see what I’m doing yet. But I feel. I hear. I am getting more energy. It’s enjoyable. I look forward to taking a look at the powerful page I felt and left.

EYES

Now it’s time. I open my eyes. Snap. Colors, papers, words. Black. Snap. Bodies, yellow. Black. Snap. Texts, sentences. Senses. Black. Text. Another vision. Another door. A bigger one. Hunting – my favorite. It is mine. Is it? I wish. I wish I could keep it with me. I wish I could remember it. Words, beautiful words. Inspirational words. Powerful meaning. My mind is now energized.

MOVEMENT

A text. In movement. In silence. In action. The papers became my friends. They came with me. The movers shared their energy. They are special ones. Hunting, drawing. Words. I want to remember those words. Arts. Those sentences. Hunting – documenting arts? Was it? I’m losing the sentences.  I’m walking. I’m sharing with the others. The space, the texts, the actions. I’m moving. I’m also shyly speaking out loud. My voice is soft. Too soft?

TOGETHER

Alone, the words don’t come out. But together it is easier. The answer is to connect. Let’s play. Pick some words or improvise. It is just an experience after all. No danger. It is just a game. Papers are still on the floor. It is a mess. We can hear voices all over. It takes space. Different personalities are rising. I perceive self-expression. Everyone is taking part of it and in many different ways. Together. We are. Connected and sharing. Is it?

HUNTING

Finding the paper that I touched and touched me simultaneously. Hunting, I remember! It seduced me. I forgot “Gathering” and “Cultivating”. I wished I remembered “Documenting the Self”. And now “Towards the Work of Art” is in my mind. Now it’s documented. Now if I forget I can find my way by recollecting the words.  Key words: Page 3. List. Precious. Time. Dreams. Action. Openness. Peace. key names. Defne, Sarah, Estzer, Anouck. All women.

CIRCLE

I’m getting out of the circle. The journey was great. The big yellow space is filed with many words, thoughts and energy. I’m less tired. I’m here. I’m stepping away from the wood/dance floor. I’m getting in the space again. I say goodbye to the words, the texts, the documents. Will I remember them? I wish!

I help to unfold and to pile up. At last, I am not afraid to let the papers go, the words that I loved. The one I cherished. They are not mine. They are here for all of us. They will always be. This space, the dancers, the eyes, in movement, hunting together and keeping in mind this circle of energy. This is it. Creating  memories and energies.

PS: http://mindthedance.com/#article/130/hunting-gathering-cultivating-practical-scores