in the absence of words
...there will be maps.
I say We'll figure it out, a lot. It sounds like a fairly ingenious lifestyle: to be constantly figuring 'it' out, loftily inventing and reinventing ways to see and shape the world.
When the rhythm is right in performance, every thing you verb rings out in space-time: you are golden/untouchable/free. And afterwards when the moment is past, you mythologise and chase this possession, this chimeric dragon, failing as ever to step on its tail.
Kriti read somewhere that you can never achieve a state of utter neutrality, only experience moments of it. It's somewhat like balancing on a see-saw: it's fun but hardly restful; and, those moments when you're perfectly poised in the middle seem suddenly still.
And then, you do something silly, like breathe, and you're off again, shifting weight, bending knees, twisting your arse and gesticulating.
Words are noisy; they shape the world in peculiar ways. A real story is not made up of words, but of verbs: in doing and being. It is a series of actions, carried out to make a picture, build a landscape, to draw a map for the moments. Stories can be fun to live through, but hardly restful to make.
In the absence of words...
I say We'll figure it out, a lot. It sounds like a fairly ingenious lifestyle: to be constantly figuring 'it' out, loftily inventing and reinventing ways to see and shape the world.
When the rhythm is right in performance, every thing you verb rings out in space-time: you are golden/untouchable/free. And afterwards when the moment is past, you mythologise and chase this possession, this chimeric dragon, failing as ever to step on its tail.
Kriti read somewhere that you can never achieve a state of utter neutrality, only experience moments of it. It's somewhat like balancing on a see-saw: it's fun but hardly restful; and, those moments when you're perfectly poised in the middle seem suddenly still.
And then, you do something silly, like breathe, and you're off again, shifting weight, bending knees, twisting your arse and gesticulating.
Words are noisy; they shape the world in peculiar ways. A real story is not made up of words, but of verbs: in doing and being. It is a series of actions, carried out to make a picture, build a landscape, to draw a map for the moments. Stories can be fun to live through, but hardly restful to make.
In the absence of words...
Comments
Truly, in the absence of a self consumed madman.
There indeed, will always be maps.