LIFENESS IS MOVEMENT - DEAD STORIES MOVING
(For the mothers of la PLaza de Mayo)
I
In the economy of a circle
the contour of thought
the need to sterilise the facts by means of an adequate concept
on the threshold of being
stretched out psyches reaching over, the cold face of those non-existent fields
re-tracing
without the power to present
what in the present has no name
II
a song seek praise from Portorico they too
a little impudent naked
reaching beyond the ability of those affected by it, to account for it
Compressed interruption
III
LA CAPUCHITA
Striving to close the gap, to provide an object and make it complete
a beehive
how troubling images are in their necessity
they elude completion
to provide an adequate representation
there is nothing that was there and now is gone
the real organ fartherinward
for something that must be shown and brought to light
them as present and absent giving themselves back to themselves as spectral implying and excluding each other simultaneously
they incorporate one another they are dissociated at the moment of enveloping one another.
(For the mothers of la PLaza de Mayo)
I
In the economy of a circle
the contour of thought
the need to sterilise the facts by means of an adequate concept
on the threshold of being
stretched out psyches reaching over, the cold face of those non-existent fields
re-tracing
without the power to present
what in the present has no name
II
a song seek praise from Portorico they too
a little impudent naked
reaching beyond the ability of those affected by it, to account for it
Compressed interruption
III
LA CAPUCHITA
Striving to close the gap, to provide an object and make it complete
a beehive
how troubling images are in their necessity
they elude completion
to provide an adequate representation
there is nothing that was there and now is gone
the real organ fartherinward
for something that must be shown and brought to light
them as present and absent giving themselves back to themselves as spectral implying and excluding each other simultaneously
they incorporate one another they are dissociated at the moment of enveloping one another.
A LIQUID TEXT
A liquid text - in space.
A choreography between breaths, language and experience, leaning on new layers
physical milieus in our new spaces.
Referencing a subject giving rise to itself however wrapped in thought.
Co-imagining a scenario that alters our perceptions of where the body resides, and extending it via the sensations of a sensory waterfall, that capture possibilities.
A performative in betwennes, creating analogies between the human grid systems and the perceptual sensory systems of the body…grids, which are transforming.
How do we as social beings experience this world?
I am a candle - you can light me up or blow me out, perception is my wax; paper is not a surface for my memory, but the presence of my thinning skin, the reach of the extended touch.
Silence attempts to articulate an experiential embodiment that proposes other concepts of contact.
Then I can gather slowly and carefully new metaphors, a language in order to create analogies between the body and other subjects, the environment and the cultural systems, whilst extending and altering my perception of being.
Present, present, in the moment which moment?
How does my understanding of thought, movement, shifts of weight make sense of this new space?
These soft and borderless maps, the transparent walls of time and the wider world that we might reach.
I am curious….
A point of origin - A place to start.
I start with myself and all that reaches between the cells of my brain and the cells of my skin
the sensual networks joining the poetical
transmitted sensation to receivers and consciousness.
Skin to breath, and as I pass, inside other cells, between our touching bodies, the light is lessening, the temperature is dropping, the thermometer of my body registers it, as its surface parts the air beyond the boundaries of my soft membrane.
The pores are my receivers my moving consciousness, joining across gaps of time zones, bleeding through…
If you could find my source, get behind my firewall.
You might be able to crack me open
Unwind me and this body would be long at least a mile
And then. Maybe?
We sense this world like our shared bridge - a system of chaotic energies and flow of power exchanges.
Or perhaps I can seek you out. I can draw you in.
I am a candle You can light me up or blow me out.
I am here I am there.
Where is your body?
The question stuck with me
You make a note to yourself; store it somewhere in your memory, you must ask for an anatomical description of blur.
Your light source is powered by your mind, your imagination, moving through a sensing of time, in motion, each moment a recapitulation of past into future, resonating in the present, in a constant ebb and flow.
This living, connected embodiment of grids, poetic and metaphoric thinking to develop choreography are part of this time.
They are capable of revealing the complexities of our experience of the world the body as an intelligent entity extending itself to other communities, other intelligences, making meanings, making new bodies, senses of language, codes of inscription
a bridge between thought, action event and transformation….
A choreography for the 21st century.
OperaTION TO STAND STILL (NOTES ON RJ)
Against uncurbed disorder
the last step
often remains there with our faith
renewal - when memory crushes in, like a giants rock
yes…. it is past participle
personally I have never been that convinced
as….in the aquarium how material can the sky be?
I want to revere the image
Its original impulse is not decomposable
A strange house contained in the voice
Inhabited by the wind
When Contradiction comes to wake us up
something we almost know keeps us company
while making allowance for nothing
the most lucid man will understand nothing
He is incapable of an utilitarian justification for his judgment – because judgment it is.
Lied and lying in the vessels
I should prepare wrong opinions in order to devise new instruments for producing motions
This proposition should not be separated
because for the most, we have to think of them together
all equally tend towards the perfecting of our method.
Supposing we have a basket of apples…
the last step
often remains there with our faith
renewal - when memory crushes in, like a giants rock
yes…. it is past participle
personally I have never been that convinced
as….in the aquarium how material can the sky be?
I want to revere the image
Its original impulse is not decomposable
A strange house contained in the voice
Inhabited by the wind
When Contradiction comes to wake us up
something we almost know keeps us company
while making allowance for nothing
the most lucid man will understand nothing
He is incapable of an utilitarian justification for his judgment – because judgment it is.
Lied and lying in the vessels
I should prepare wrong opinions in order to devise new instruments for producing motions
This proposition should not be separated
because for the most, we have to think of them together
all equally tend towards the perfecting of our method.
Supposing we have a basket of apples…
THE VALUE OF PALIMPSESTS
Their origin isn’t arguable
but even without contest
it isn’t complex
underneath
the old exceed the frame of the new ephemeral calligraphy
ad - agio
defying alignments
building ropes out of threads
insolent little beasts
Species of spaces
their substance is perceived by senses
and heightened by reasoning (?)
in the thin lucid paper
head straight - head slightly backwards
different levels
...abandon over
hidden proudness
engraving over leaning
what to say?
AT TIMES
Enter look straight and do the floor (just in case) echoing walking steps turn right a drawing and a stiffed fox with a peeled tail
Enter the archipelagos dots in perspective the chinese lady passes by
PUSH
A reflection split in two and moves up voices on both sides semicircle number 2 A long one
For consciousness is a shoe
THE COMING COMMUNITY
Last people on Earth step forward to explore the edges of human reason.
Like letters with no addressee, we remain without a destination. Neither blessed like the elected nor hopeless like the damned, we are infused with a joy and no outlet. We have left the world of guilt and justice behind ourselves: the light that rains down on us is that irreparable light of the dawn following the judgment. But the life that begins on earth after the last day inside the Bulkhead is simply human life.
However our bodies have been affected by the fiction; we are now impassable. The fiction has laid a layer of wax covering our skin,we have now become desensitized.
But this is only with respect to the action of divine justice; in every other respect we fully enjoy our natural perfection. In any case peeling away the strata of fiction and expose the raw impulse… is imperative.
In other words it’s necessary to transform ourselves into members of a community, a coming community, which is defined only by a common property; the condition of belonging and of nurturing creations that offer the truth and meaning of art, without an end.
This activity, which might be separated in thoughts but not in reality, is an imaginative effort to go beyond the tangible events of our existence
The proper place is always beside itself, in the empty space, which is indefinable and unforgettable…
The final survivors take a vow in the virtuality of the real to live substituting themselves for someone else that is to be… in the place of others.
Substituting oneself for another does not mean compensating for what the other lacks, nor correcting is or her errors, but exiling oneself to a non other, in order to offer hospitality in the other’s own soul, in the other own taking place.
This un-representable space is a place where each can move freely, where spatial proximity borders on opportune time (ad - agio / moving at ease) and convenience, borders on the correct relation.
Everything rests here on the mode in which the passage from potentiality to act comes about. The symmetry between the potentiality of to be and the potentiality not be is, in effect only apparent.
Breaking away from the double chains of biological destiny and individual biography, it takes the inarticulate crying of the tragic body and the dumb silence of the comic body, which appears for the first time perfectly communicable, entirely illuminated.
Touch is the tools to help us to break away from those chains, a primordial language, which explores how our relationship might adjust to accommodate this sense of energies and flow of power relations.
The aim is to make us aware more than ever before of our individual perceptions, the pain of disconnection and the desire for communication. A reflection on what the fiction have exposed us to and at the same time the discovery of an infra sensual language that our reciprocal touch creates.
Emphasizing in the new planetary humanity, those characteristics that allow for its survival, removing the thin diaphragm that separates us from the perfect exteriority that communicates only itself. This is the political task of the Bulkhead.
When a world is transformed into an image and the image becomes real the practical power of human is separated from it and presented as a world into itself.
Like letters with no addressee, we remain without a destination. Neither blessed like the elected nor hopeless like the damned, we are infused with a joy and no outlet. We have left the world of guilt and justice behind ourselves: the light that rains down on us is that irreparable light of the dawn following the judgment. But the life that begins on earth after the last day inside the Bulkhead is simply human life.
However our bodies have been affected by the fiction; we are now impassable. The fiction has laid a layer of wax covering our skin,we have now become desensitized.
But this is only with respect to the action of divine justice; in every other respect we fully enjoy our natural perfection. In any case peeling away the strata of fiction and expose the raw impulse… is imperative.
In other words it’s necessary to transform ourselves into members of a community, a coming community, which is defined only by a common property; the condition of belonging and of nurturing creations that offer the truth and meaning of art, without an end.
This activity, which might be separated in thoughts but not in reality, is an imaginative effort to go beyond the tangible events of our existence
The proper place is always beside itself, in the empty space, which is indefinable and unforgettable…
The final survivors take a vow in the virtuality of the real to live substituting themselves for someone else that is to be… in the place of others.
Substituting oneself for another does not mean compensating for what the other lacks, nor correcting is or her errors, but exiling oneself to a non other, in order to offer hospitality in the other’s own soul, in the other own taking place.
This un-representable space is a place where each can move freely, where spatial proximity borders on opportune time (ad - agio / moving at ease) and convenience, borders on the correct relation.
Everything rests here on the mode in which the passage from potentiality to act comes about. The symmetry between the potentiality of to be and the potentiality not be is, in effect only apparent.
Breaking away from the double chains of biological destiny and individual biography, it takes the inarticulate crying of the tragic body and the dumb silence of the comic body, which appears for the first time perfectly communicable, entirely illuminated.
Touch is the tools to help us to break away from those chains, a primordial language, which explores how our relationship might adjust to accommodate this sense of energies and flow of power relations.
The aim is to make us aware more than ever before of our individual perceptions, the pain of disconnection and the desire for communication. A reflection on what the fiction have exposed us to and at the same time the discovery of an infra sensual language that our reciprocal touch creates.
Emphasizing in the new planetary humanity, those characteristics that allow for its survival, removing the thin diaphragm that separates us from the perfect exteriority that communicates only itself. This is the political task of the Bulkhead.
When a world is transformed into an image and the image becomes real the practical power of human is separated from it and presented as a world into itself.