I think a stop to yoga soon, or maybe exchange for snoozing or lying on the floor pretending to warm up. Move my fingers some. Move my head a little one way… oh, too much.
Staying out late then chatting with Daniel till 1am then getting up at 730 was all a bit much. I have sultry black rings under my eyes. We warm up sitting in chairs, like a lapdancing Martha Graham. I can feel my torso grinding around with my breath contracting and extending, sitbones digging into the wood. Then some yoga. Then some, oh I love so much, running and line stuff, mmm I could run for ages, it’s so peaceful.
A new thing to work on. Several actually. A morning scene, getting up and getting dressed. I have a feeling this is going to be a quite physical 80 minutes. So, we fall forward, hands knees, sit back and swing our left arm behind us and catch out weight on it, then swing to the other side and collapse onto our right sides, beginning a motion like things buffeted in the tide, one way then the other, onto one side then the other and with each swing we pull ourselves along with out feet, push a bit with our hands, rather briskly. And undress or pull clothes on. It’s not as hard as it first looked but there’s a certain businesslike commitment to keeping it all together with each other, an amount of brusqueness with the clothes, yet care also. It’s kinda fun and oh frustrating sometimes also.
This for an hour, then… oh of course, martial arts. A new phrase, or maybe that was yesterday, anyway, three phases we do in groups feeding in and out, each one it’s own species, yet together they all somehow, with occasional clonking of heads, come together. We are getting things finished, how to being and how to end, yet so much is only with Hans and his notebook.
I’m forgetting things, was this before or after lunch? Today or yesterday? Anyway, so we have lunch and I forgot to take pictures, bread and tomatoes and cheese, I tore bits together into mouthfuls. And a small sleep. Ivan wakes me. I’m insensate until I stand.
The line and handshaking pulled together with the water phobia therapy, and then off to the kitchen. Real food will be there. Should I offer to cook something? Rice with… oh you know, rice with pretty much anything.
I forgot the bound dance. People with their legs tied, we did this in the VolksOper studio, real and natural light for a change. Today I enjoyed again the perpetual unknowingness of what time it is in WUK, all light excluded, a monad of sorts.
They have their legs tied for trying to eat at night without sharing their food. We eat breakfast and then knock them to the ground. It’s more humiliating than vindictive, though an implied brutality or sense of violence is there also. Dragging around pulling up, causing to topple, more physical work, like digging fields on the farm.
A short break then everyone splits. Some get to do slow-motion dancing to The Knife, Anushka does this like she has been filmed at a fast frame-rate then played back at normal, such an eerily convincing low speed. Hans, Johan, oh I forget her name, oops, will fix this tomorrow, and me work on a play. Theatre that is.
Except the lines are all wrong, we need prompting, the prompting is wrong, the set gets in the way, we forget, miss our cues, miss pages, read from different plays even, mess up lines, combine lines into… oh disaster, over and over and over. I keep dying, well you all know I love to die over and over. Then we make a little scene, Hans is the doctor, I have an affair with him, I’m married to Johan, affairs all round, discovery, betrayal, madness, missed lines, fart, peeing, toilets, more chaos and confusion. We get to perform this.