It was movement
And light
And the sheer fucking energy
I went of in to a dream
And time disappeared
This was my body being washed by their bodies.
Sunlight
and Wind
and bloody earth
but flaoting
THIS WAS PERFECT
It was art and it was me. IT WAS ME.
If you missed this you missed everything
A vision of how we would all move in dance paradise.’ The New York Times
When the morning comes I can be human again.
I don't run from the light.
Just chasing life.
Being a wild thing is a choice not to be changed but I still love.
It is beautiful.
Winter is some dark cloud and I can't crawl out of that hole.
Summer sun is a glimpse of what can be.
Light streaming through windows marks out hope.
The future is great.
Busy people can step out and breathe.
We loose ourselves.
Sighing swathed in light we sing.
My eyes can open again.
My heart knows its path.
Fly away.
Fly into now.
Riding through this glimpse of summer
My darkness is hinting at light.
Out of that pit that seemed so endless
This new light is wonderful.
Singing to the music.
What music?
This music.
My heart is free again
My mind is open and
Blue skies make me want to live new again.
Live not for the night or the stars or the darkness
But for this blinding day!
God you are so beautiful.
I just want to laugh.
I am sure I have been dead before. Whether this means I have lived before I don't know? Not that I know what constitutes living?
As I get older I get more disconnected from my past. By my past I mean that time when I didn't yet exist as this body.
Saying it is a memory would be wrong. I don't know what happened. It is the ghost of a feeling you see out of the corner of your eye. Something that makes you or I feel uneasy. It is a noise I can't describe. Like "white" noise but NOT that. It doesn't exist here. So I can't explain the sound. The colour is the same. Stare at a bright light for too long and you see those circles. Circles of light but it is a colour. It isn't that. Like a glare of a glow. Blink too much and you almost see it... but you don't. Or surround yourself with snow and the sun. Any how it is a colour or a light that I can't describe but I know it and I remember it and when I go to this place I know I am living somewhere else.
It doesn't feel nice. It feels tense. Tension. I DON'T like tension.
But whatever it is. It is because it is not in the now.
I am not sure it would feel so bad if I could catch it and stay there. Maybe because it is non existence. Or as close as to that you can get. Because like I said. It is a before or after. An eternity. Not that I know that.
It is like floating through nothing. Not in a body. I can't see my body. And it is more a suspension that a feeling of movement. Or maybe moving too fast to feel it? Or feeling it a bit like when your stomach jumps in a lift. Falling. Falling. Falling.
I am more disconnected now. The day is too busy and my mind too blank or bleak. I can't quite reach my childhood.
I think I used to be able to fly. I am not joking. I just used to be able to lie back and propel myself around. Hovering above the floor always backwards. I seriously believe this and remember it. In my old house. The one I first remember.
I can't do it anymore. I don't know when I stopped . This makes me sad.
This is a video I performed in for my friend Tim on his project about Synaesthesia.
The light is created as a result of the movement and the sound.
Find more information on Tim's blog : http://timoholloway.wordpress.com/
It was all improvised and a very "colourful" experience.
Here are some photos:
all images taken by Clare Malseed
Sound by James Holdon
