Well it’s been a hot minute.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. Of modest heartbreak, of making, of applications and emails and meetings and dancing. I’m so glad it’s been made up of so much dancing.
the caretakers is growing in full force, slowly, like a glacier shuddering in its movement along the mountainside. Some things are abundantly clear, and some are hiding on my periphery, edging a little closer each day.
I have moved away from it being choreographed. It is a work of dance built in the moment. I know the tasks and the score but not what my body will do with it, in the then and now.
I am moving between memory, fiction and reality. My moving and talking and feeling intersects time in various places and ways, moving into my childhood, into the now, into the distant past and the uncertain future. It’s about care, it’s about how I care, and how we all care.
I’ve been told I need to look more explicitly at the politics of what I’m dealing with, and express it in a way that is attune to the emotional potency of it. I feel lost in this. I feel like the politics of it is so complicated and I don’t have the capacity to deal with that too.
We have a date. March 9th, at Platform in Southwark. It’ll definitely be a work in progress.