Trickling

Play one at a time, or all at once!











When I trace evolved forms back to their source they are often surprisingly subtle, understated. A trickle starts a river.

If we are only evaluating the amount of energy and shape in an image, we are not reading the initiation or content of the image. This "obvious child" that Paul Simon sings about, what the image means right here and now, is important.

So I'll forgive myself eventually for the small amounts I am trickling out.

In fact, if small equals failure, I am failing prolifically. I am washed over, blessed with it. It occurs to me that I'm being trained, conditioned to the sensation of small and failure as a way to wean myself off expectations of large and success. To explode all such notions.

Lastly, this is why dance is important: it walks the knife-edge between the most real and tangible, the "known" of our own bodies, and the least: all that is also real but commonly unseen, unfelt, unsmelt, untasted, unknown by our same bodies. As makers of dance, we are catching the unknown - the wild - and containing it tightly or loosely in our bodies and sequences of movement, letting it play us. A valiant elusive moment-to-moment effort of tricklings or torrents.

(thanks to Pascale for our discussion today, for this)