I have written in this context in several years now. I feel I’ve lost the flow a little. I hope you can bear with me, through my words. Hopefully we’ll find some way of talking thats more easygoing. Or not, that’s okay too.
My first studio day left me with such an awareness of the camera, of my slightly sluggish body after several weeks of not dancing, or rather not knowing through dancing. It’s a muscle, truly, it needs working. So I came back to the studio with a determination to detoxify my thinking and awareness. I am at the mercy of the internet, as are my whole generation. I had not realised until this week how incessantly I feel the need to share, to produce content, whatever that means. It’s frustrating, and it makes me think a lot about what kind of makers we’ll be, when we’re a little older. There’s no answer to that other than patience.
I want to draw attention to one image I kept coming back to during this session. It’s that of a dam; more specifically, the dams my siblings and I used to build down the glen at my Grandparent’s home. We’d pull rocks from the sides of the burn and out of the water, building them up to change the flow of the current, or stop it altogether. As I move through the memory of this place memories bind themselves to the feeling, to how myself and others relate to it. To me the dam is the blockade so many people are putting up because they think it’s emotional preservation, but truly we need to let it down. I think about Audree’s words here; we need to melt.
I move through a dam of my own here, and I wondered, could there be a dam with me as I perform, that breaks apart? I don’t imagine myself alone when I perform this; there’s other elements. Maybe a dam of stones is one of them.