Invisible productivity


July is almost over. Been working but not writing here or taking pictures. Nothing is finished. Nothing to show. 

On March 29 I sent this in an email to a fellow artist:

I wanted to share with you an insight I had a couple weeks ago about RELAXING INTO TIME TO FEEL THE SUPPORT OF TIME the same way we relax into gravity to feel the support of the earth. whoa!

It is my current opinion that nonstop, visibly high productivity is for people who are in survival mode, or who have been brainwashed into a panic about their worth by capitalism. It's been extremely hot here in this area of the earth and slow moving is just plain healthy and necessary. How about producing some peacefulness, serenity, and quietude? 

Thought from 3-day Red Square workshop with Barbara Dilley at White Pines Productions in Elkins Park the weekend of June 29th: One instruction was to visualize yourself in the space before you enter it. Dilley outlines a process inspired by Tibetan Buddhist practices. At first I felt: I cannot do this. But then I realized I experience this phenomena of visualizing, of seeing what my next step could be, all the time. Particularly when doing freeform drawing or crochet, I SEE, with my inner eye, what the empty space or paper suggests as a next addition or gesture. I see the color, the shape, the size. So why can I not practice allowing this type of vision to arise when working with dance and performance, with body in space? 

In early July, the annual Contemplative Dance retreat. So incredibly nourishing. I felt my dancer superpowers re-emerge. My body has felt so quiet, fat, downwardly spreading and sinking, lumpy, heavy, and bulky this past year. Moving in the Personal Awareness Practice and Open Space during retreat I felt some articulation and speed returning, making a home in this new body that is changing so fast now with anti-adolescence. (That is what I call female middle age/perimenopause). 

There is a concurrent story happening for me during this month about Home. A place to live. It is partly very personal, but also partly a story shared with artists and other people who live on the margins of mainstream society. How difficult it is to find a space that can accommodate the activities, the objects, and the empty space, in short the individual's necessary slice of chaos, that is needed for a way of living that isn't subsumed so easily by commerce and commodity. The sacrifices we make to live as ourselves. The privileges and paradoxical limitations of actually being free in a world of overt contracts, assumed habits, and unspoken agreements. 

Photo above is of a fellow student during the Red Square workshop in an exercise of working with "allies," or objects.


asimina chremos