Atoms Disassemble, Dali paints Mary's Assumption

On the ninth day of being in Panama my atoms disassembled. Not severely, or irrevocably. But there was a molecular quivering for sure. We were in Santa Fe, a small mountain town at the end of a road. Literally. If you want to keep going in an attempt to get to the Caribbean side of Panama, good luck. We were in bed in this clean, but spare and stark, cement block room in the Santa Fe Hotel. Actually, in the states we would call it - by its arrangement - a motel. In the midst of the tropical plushlush that is Panama. And I couldn't sleep. Absolutely no way possible couldn't. And that's when it happened. I spent until dawn trying to convince my atoms to hold onto their "Celeste" form. The next morning, Normando asked me how I'd slept. I said, "I didn't. My atoms were disassembling." He was quiet for awhile. Then he asked, "How are you know?" I said, "I'm still trying to keep them assembled." He was quiet again. Then he said, "I don't think I really understand what you are talking about." So then I explained about the Bill Bryson book, "A short history of everything"......
Truthfully, I think I hit the wall of being out of my (geographical/cultural) familiar zone. It was a discomfort of huge magnitude. A desire to be "home" (whatever that means, and it is a concept I struggle with...) but I didn't want things to be strange anymore.
I wrote: "So what is my atomic structure? Are my atoms rearranging between solid and liquid states? In which case its merely the spaces between the electrons and the speed at which the vibrations are occuring. If the solid state (secure, at home, knowing where I'm at, what's up) is at the speed of the vibration (slowest) and the atoms/molecules are compact. But something is happening that is speeding up the vibration, and there is more space between the molecules and I am afraid that I am about to move into an evaporative state? and thus the apprehension?

A week later. After I got home. Breakfast with Jennifer. She was telling me about Dali's Assumption of Mary. Dali's explanation for her ability to transcend the physical to get to heaven, was that her molecules began to quiver at a high speed and then she just molecularly exploded into the state of heaven.

Time Passes

As I wander in that wonderworld of where does this piece take me next - I have a larger question and hope some of my colleagues might deposit some thoughts about.
Whenever I am making a new dance, about to embark on the new project, I begin simply with "What will the dance be about?". (Of course there are myraid more questions, but that is my simple beginning.) The trouble is that "about" seems to suggest narrative, though that is not my intention.
How about for you? When you are starting a new piece - how do you frame your entry? When you talk to people and they say what are you working on? And you say: "I'm starting a new dance, _________________________."
I'd like to collect some responses and make a web page on my web site. If you are interested.

oh those pauses in the process...

So we close today. Today is performance # 4 of 4. A pause in the process. A conclusion of sorts. I hate endings. I have set up my life to just always be moving on so I never have to deal with endings.

Appropriately enough, as usual I dash out of town tomorrow, avoiding "good-byes" as it were.

I always avoid endings, closings, good-byes......

Being 57 combined with endings gets scarier and scarier as I feel closer and closer to the end of my life (though I think I still have a ways to go).

So this show, on its massive, massive scale - in numbers of people on stage, numbers of collaborators, production values, size of audiences, amount of singular focus, props, costumes, lights.... now draws to its close and makes me wonder if I will ever take on a performance at this scale ever again. "Never say never" I remind myself.... but still...

Now I move onto new phases of the work - because it still doesn't feel concluded yet. I want to try and write it for the page.
Whether to be read, to be an interactive experience that combines reading with doing, to be offered as a performance script for others to undertake.... those are all intriguing questions.

Things I want to hold onto:
- the performance ensemble we have created
- collaborating with Chip
- a way of creating a new theatrical genre, as Rupert called it
- being back into my dancing body with confidence

No offense, but

"with the tools that make people’s eyes bleed" that is how a dear colleague of mine has advertised a choreographic mentoring project. personally, I don't want to make anyone's eyes bleed, or any other body part. what do I want to do? is connect people to their own humanity. and then maybe, we could stop making others bleed......as yet another suicide bomb goes off in the middle east, as yet another young person dies in a gang shooting in the USA, as yet another uninsured person bleeds to death because they can't afford healthcare, as yet.... hasn't enough blood been spilled in the history of the human race? isn't it time to evolve already?

19 days and counting

it has moved off the page. it is in the bodies - my body, chip's body and the bodies of all the cast. 31 plus and counting. sometimes if fits, sometimes it is elusive. we each struggle to hold onto what worked so well yesterday, and slips away today. the joy on faces when it returns. or when it arrives, finally, for the first time. i love making shows... i hate making shows. its the tightrope walk of live performance. so much easier to capture on film/video. edit out the ugly. hold onto blips of nearer-to-perfection. i celebrate my cast - daring to climb onto the tightrope. i celebrate my cast who is doing this for one reason - the love of doing it. i am so honored and humbled in their presence....... and that they try harder, and again, again each time i say: ummmmm I don't think so...... ummmmm not there yet....... ummmm let's try again........