The next two days I set myself a 5 hour durational task... threading the room I call it... Here is the transcript of what emerged... Threading the room for 5 hours... People love a cuckoo and yet they steal the nest of your birds... If someone could take over just for 5 minutes wile I rest my head on the bed... Just for 5 minutes but you need to keep the pattern going... I need to keep going... I am stepping like an elephant... I think it would be great to have a memory , the memory of an elephant... Im a mountain, I go over the mountain... Im a cliff, Im on the cliff... I am stepping down like an elephant... Memory... If someone could just take over just for 5 minutes...just to keep it gojng because it needs to keep going... But someone could take over for 5 minutes while I just lay on the bed to have a little rest, just a tiny rest, 5 minutes, 5 minutes only and to understand something sometimes you, to comprehend something sometimes you, sometimes... Its good to observe, its good to watch but maybe also to try it... Just for 5 minutes... Just for 5 minutes... Try it just for 5 minutes... Im on the cliff, Im on a cliff looking down down at the sea below... I flap my wings, straight my feathers, I plunge, I fly... I go back to africa... Why am I doing this? Why am I threading the room? There is no logic to it... How long is a piece of string? Hold on to the tree to help you go down... Ive stopped the task or lets say it has stopped itself creating a triangle in the space and trying to stick some strings on the wall just doesnt find its place... This is the feeling of being in the doldrums where I have no idea what to do next but to sit or lay down and drift aimlessly wherever I dont care I dont mind... Whatever happens next I cant think it I cant think it I cant see it I cant feel it... Even if I close my mind, I cant cant distinguish anything that gives me a clue... No when I close my eyes, its just an amber of black and white... Not an amber a marble, a marble of blurry black and white shapes forming some grey shapes... Nothing... A spiral, a spiral is forming, tornedo maybe, ah... Now it is gone, its vanished... I keep my eyes closed, I cant find the energy to open them actually. .. im sitting against the wall and I ... I... I just have no idea what will come next... A lull time... A lull time, a lull time, a lull time... A lull... A lull time... A lull time, a lull, a lullaby... Lullaby, aliby... Maybe I need to sing a lullaby because it is a lull time... A lullaby because its a lull time... A lullaby, a lullaby about... By, by, bye... Bye bye... Tu tu dudu... Do do lenfant do, dodo lenfant do, do, do , deau, deau, dodo, do, do deau, dooo, doooo, dooo like a ruisseau, like a ruisseau, oh ruisseau, oh ruisseau... Oh ruisseau, seau et pelle, seau et pelle sur la plage, seau et pelle sur la plage, sur la plage, les pieds dans leau, les pieds dans leau, leau, leau, (sound with tongue)... Drip, drip, drip in the arm, drip the arm, drip in the arm, drip in the arm, saline water, drip in the arm, saline water, hydration, drip in the arm, saline water, hydration, saline water, saline water, saline water, saline water, saline water, do not drink, saline water do not drink, do not drink, saline water, drown, saline drown, saline water do not drink, drown, drown, drown, drown... I am feeling like atlas, while I am sitting in the position, no it is not atlas that holds his head, holds his head with all the weight, the weight of the world, the weight of his head on his hand... Thats not atlas, atlas holds the planet... Who is that man that hold his head naked, sitting on a rock, who is that man? Is he tired? Is he worried? Is he in shock. Sitting on his rock, a rock, a rock... Its still image, its a painting, its a drawing, its a still image... So its a frame, a frame, one moment captured so we dont know the move hed done before, the move hed done after...he could have been rocking... Rocking on his rock, rocking on his rock, rocking on his rock, head in his hand... Im rocking left to right... Was he rocking forward and back? Im rocking left and right because Ive got the wall behind my back... He could have been rocking onhis rock...maybe he was... He was maybe.. He was maybe he was... A dream... A dream... A dream in the mind of another man... Yes maybe he was the dream of another man, a man standing... Who was standing and walking, standing and walking... Forever walking, forever and ever walking never stopping... He was... this man rocking on a rock... was The dream of another man walking, walking forever, walking... Walking in the dessert... In the dessert were there was no rocks, just sand, sand to infinity, sand shifting, slowly, sand shifting slowly, which, make direction impossible.. A dune is a dune... Hi... But when a dune moves, when all the dunes move around you... Its like being at sea, you cant see, hi, when the dunes move you cant see, where youre going or where youve been... No mind you, jn the sand you can see your steps, not for long, not for long... Depends the wind, the brease, depends if you want to look back as well... Some traces of your journey, in the sun, jn the wind, if you look back... If you stop and look back you will see your steps up to a point... But you dont stop, you dont stop because you dream of this man sitting on a rock and dreaming of that is enough for you to give you a rest... This man rests for you but this man has a heavy head, a heavy head... whats in it? A burden, a saddeness... Its a weight, a weight... What is that weight, a brain full of thoughts and ideas wondering aroud, swimming around the head, swimming around the head, swimming around the head, ideas thoughts, absence of direction, too many things, unconcrete, how to take it out of the head? Nothing tangible, nothing that can be pinned down, nothing that, nothing that makes sense... Who is this man holding his head? What is his name? Marley, his name is marley...its everybody, its everybody, everybody holds their heads, everybody, elbow on the table, after an argument, after an heavy day at work, when you just realised youve just forgot something, when you watch something in the news and youre appalled, many reasons to hold your head, a headhack, a neckacke, just very tired, tired, tired, very tired... Ive got to continue, Ive got to continue, maybe if I continue with just words, voice, maybe its a similar continuation, its a parallel continuation... So Thread the string over the handle bar, walk accross the room towards the chair, step ine, step 2, step on the chair, thread over the tube, under the tube, catch the end, step down, pull the string with you, walk over water, under the bed, string under the bed, walk to black bar, by the mirror, thread over the bar, under the bar, walk to the door, thread over the door handle, under the door, walk to the chair, step, step, step up the chair, thread over the tube, under the tube, catch with your other hand, pull on the way down, walk on the manche, thread under the bed, thread over the bar, walk to the door, thread over the door, walk to the chair, step 1, step 2, up on the chair, thread over the tube, down, down, walk to the bed, change hand with thread, change thread with hand, thread under the bed, turn, walk to the bar, thread over the bar, under the bar, turn to the door, walk to the door, thread over the handle, under the handle, turn, walk to the chair, step 1, step 2, step 3, 1,2,3, both feet on the chair, thread over tube, hnder the tube, catch with other hand, turn, step down, step down 1, step down 2, step down 3, walk on the blue mat, thread, change thread hand, thread under the bed, turn and walk to the bar, thread over, under, turn, walk to the door, thread over, thread under, turn, walk to the chair... Repeat, repeat and repeat and repeat for ever and ever... Endlessly continuing, continuous pattern being made in the space... Blank, blank, blank, blank wall, blank mind... Ive got to continue... Thread over the handle bar, under the handle bar, change thread hand, walk to the chair, step 1 step 2 on the chair, thread over grey tube, catch underneath, pull down as you step down, walk on the blue mat towards the bed, thread under the bed, walk towards the bars... There is only one... Well reflection in the mirror makes it 2... Walk to the parallel bars ah... Thread under no thread over then thread under, turn to face the door, walk towards the door, thread over the handle bar, under the handle bar, walk to the chair, 1,2,3 step up, thread over the tube, step down, walk on the matress, towards the bed, thread under the bed, under over, under and over, walk to the bar, under and over, walk to the door, over and under, walk to the chair, over and under, walk to the bed, walk to the bed, right to left, under and over, walk to the bar, over and under, walk to the door, over and under, walk to the chair, step 1, step 2, yarn... Its 11... In order to have new thought, new thoughts, I need to change the pattern, not repeat what I did yesterday, repeat the task but not the exact pattern set yesterday... Its 11 past 11... Im setting the alarm for 4 oclock... A pattern for the day... A cycle for the day... Staring at dawn at the entrance, walk to the hightest point of the sun in the sky, it must be midday... It goes down, evening time, over, under the black bar, night time and back to dawn by the entrance and start again... the layering of The days of the days of recording, the traces of the thoughts that emerge throught the repetition is potentially the accumulation of the elements that I wanted to create... And another thought listening to yesterday recording is the fact that the tape has erased, well not erased, in recording only the moment of thoughts and pausing it plays continuous thoughts and thus has not recorded the gap in between those thoughts... Just a thought... What seems to be coming up and this notion of comjng up is an interesting one because it comes up through repetition, again it is not using an empirical, 1+1=2+2=4+2=6+1=7 but a rather not better but a different way of arriving at things and it is mainly a combination of imagination and observation and making 1+1=3 actually hum ... Some kind of automatic writing in this case using vocal to record it... Hum... Kind of satisfied with it, kind of thinking it... Thinking it lacks a weight, hum... A consistence is not the right word, intelligence maybe is some kind if... I guess its going back to the system isnt it, there is no real system to generate what is coming up... Its just random thoughts and processes, random thoughts created through the repetition... Paying attention to one thing suddenly creates another thought and why is that not as valid a creation as hum the 1+1=2 method Im not sure... I think it is as valid but I feel somehow it doesn really, its not consistent, its not weighted enought... Hum... It is not considered enought... Its time for something but I dont know what time... The clock is ticking while the cuckoo is heard too... Hum theyre not even synchronised... So I need to continue... Keep layering i think... I quite like the layering... Listening to the tape from yesterday while doing the threading of the room today some nice overlaying situation happened... For example, today I have a different route but somehow, some of the text matched what I was doing but also theremwas this notion that some of the words from yesterday were creating memories or instructions... Hum... Interesting difference... If the words describe the actikns that have just happended before that is the memory, if the words describe the actikns that I will be doing after hearing those words, its more like an instruction... I need to carry in... Question If you follow the same pattern of thoughts, do you end up with the same thought? Indeed, 1+1=2 and will always be so... question How does an audience entering a durationsl space starts to make sense of what is happening in front of them? I am using an audience to understand that process... A system... To use back... To reveal back... I keep returning to the same point, over and over again... The narrative, like marley that I came up this morning, throught the repetition of threading the room, I was explaining to the girls about that narrative, they thought that I had just made it up... But I told them where all the writing that triggered the narrative... that although I have arrived at some narrative there is something missing... It just does not seem to be enought for me... Afain and again, what is the logic? Why this narrative has got missing for me is the logic... And maybe it is just in front of me, like the elephant in the room, and I just dont see it... Or maybe the narrative is just a demonstration of the logic, of a pattern... The pattern created through the thread, created through seeing the things around me by repetition repetition... Starting with fluidity with the thread in the space, fluidity with no stopping leading to after time looking at pattern because I was starting and returning to the same place, that became a cycle and the cycle moved to becoming a day cycle ... And yet something is missing... What is it that I am searching that I cant even name? I think I might have put my finger on it... Hum I think what I am looking for in term of this idea of looking for a logic is that all the elements are considered... So in a way what is missing in the narratives at the moment does not yet has a consideration or a relevance or has not find yet the link, the thread with the other bits... Simply what I have come up has not found its link to the parallel notion... Possibly... I am interested in making visible a pattern, a system, a logic... That is a fundamental about the piece...
Posted on: Mon, 10 Nov 2014 23:48:31 +0000
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