21.1.12  Weimar.   creation.

hungry feeling -- but not the belly.  or not only belly. its thate old burning -- the wind in my heart.  the creative power-thing that is inside me -- i wish i had a name for it.
'Art' ... is the word I learned for it.  (though there is usually no direct connection).  in fact the name is only because i read of how edvard munch talked about having the same feelings. he sometimes called it "Nature".  at least when love and sex was mixed up in it.

what ever its name, it comes up in me.  as it always has.  it brings with it ideas for movement.

or it comes _from_ movement, visions of movement, working towards a particular effect -- one that i can glimpse, in like a dream, and i strategize how to make it real.

show on the 12th of feb.

31.12.11  Paris.   the master's passing.

it ends tonight. many will be there, some i loved, as artists, but hey, with passion nevertheless! ok, many not... i wonder if susan emery will be there, to cry perhaps, with the others. in the amoury in new york city will be the last cunningham performance. ever.

i checked into flights. 663.- too much. :(

to say good bye to something so great. something i appeciated to the fullest-- the beauty i saw in his work, in their work, has been unmatched in this life.

well, i saw a couple of shows in paris last week. that was my goodbye i guess.

oof, but that is a show i REALLY regret missing. one I would have carried with me my whole life. i got to see the excerpts list - in the events - great shit. best of.... everyone will cry, everyone who knows what it means that is.

delph says its a good thing i miss it. things move on and i should be seeing other things. she says i would just have gotten so nastalgic that it would not be healthy.

but i dont agree. it is about choreography and dance. not just sentiment. it is about inspiration. not just in the general sense, but i get IDEAS watching that stuff.

maybe the question is: what is choreography to me, in my life now. i can do it. and i am good, but

actually i have gone another path... i will be doing it next week. but, only next week. its not my life anymore. hm. imagine that.

but to understand what that aesthetic and way of working - so much like zen actually - to have lived through those times, was something life-changing for me. like merce always said, it is so fleeting. even for us who followed him.

ooo

call me old fashioned, call me, sentimental, but i believe those movements, designed as they are, communicate. and sealed up within that box of a theater, now, right now, and now again, they mean Something.

you know, i used to feel like I was in a church when I watched that stuff.

i feel stranded and yearning. It will never again be seen. I did not expect to miss it this much. Merce, my zen father, my master, I miss you.

17.12.11  Weimar

i finally reached my ailing mother.  she asked,"do you really like working with persons with disabilties?"  I said I like working with people, and they are people.

I would have liked to tell her more about it.

oo

on choreography as an identity. remember!?   what I am, was, am, was, am? a movement organizer - remember, it is not something I do.  but rather am. this was so clear to me, as strange as it is,  many years ago.  it was really that way,  and on some level I think it doesnt change.  once a person has come to a point like that...  and so , when the body feels capable, its as if I MUST do it.  its me. and not to do it denies me my true nature.   the "what" -- what to choreograph -- is not the point.  it hardly matters.  like merce, you put it together, carefully, and it will have needs of its own.  you listen ot _its_ needs. it serves an art.  

I choreographed today.  even though my calf is still injured...  so it was a sloppy half-way rehearsal.. but hey... immerhin!

17.12.11  Weimar

what ever it is, it must be OK.  it is, after all, natural -- it is part of Nature.  it is not something generated by our little minds.  it belongs more to the core of things, heart of what we are .

the "i dont want!" reaction, is that of a child. it is a reaction of the surface.  instinctive, pure , full of sparkling life, but it is a perception that comes out of the dancing play, the illusion of the world.  remember what budha said, to take for real, that which we know to be illusion, is the thinking of a mad man."

Looked at like this , in the context of meditation and zen , one knows what one needs to know ot make this strange journey. .

Once I had the idea to make a list of all the "things" about myself.  on that list would go, the feeling that I am being watched.  or at least wondering what I would look like if I _were_ being watched.  I feel this as I move through this life.

another thing, is a strange desire Ive had since ... 20 years, to get in touch with all the people that I have met and tell them all, "you meant something to me. i have carried something of you with me my whole life...".   something like that.

i do have a list of these people.  i hope i do this someday.

14.12.11     good news

Doctor said today that it was not dangerous.  hm. on the one side one has to wonder why he did not tell me this earlier.  on the other side, would i have wanted him to?  the not knowing has brought me closer to knowing in another sense.

19.11.11  Dresden

Ever since I found out that I both do, and don't have a heart condition,

my life has changed in ways that are both good and bad.  Mostly I can say that suddenly -- SUDDENLY -- i am older.  I always want to say "old", but stop myself.  its not exactly that.

But it something.  and it has to do with moving on in life.  something Im not wild about.

I worked today with severly handicapped kids.  The man said he wanted us to hurry up and get the motioncomposer ready because some of the kids were going to die.  that they regulary did.  wow.

we worked with a guy, for example, who could somehow only move his left foot.  so we gave him music to play with it.  he seemed to like this and the man seemed very happy about it as well.

14.11.11  coming back from Cardiff, England

It has often occurred to me that it has taken me an unusually long time to grow up.  Its like its something that I forgot to do it when I was young, so I had to catch up later.  Which I have done now. just about.

I did not, for example, learn how to live ... responsibly at least, until very recently.   It only occurred to me that I should wear clothes with no holes in them a month ago (when I bought 1000 euros worth of clothes in Paris).

I never learned or cared to be the things that most people mean when they say grown up:  make money, have a profession or family.   I dont know, I never seemed to care about those things.

but then, many things have been out of reach for me.

freedom not. 

anyway, now I feel can do those things.  only now. and I am ready to do the things that others began in their 20s. Haha! its about time!  well, its me.

and its ok. There is a lot in this lifestyle to admire and be proud of.

Like what?   ... um... give me a minute...

Well, it is, for example, good for art work; appreciating its values when i see it. and also making it. also, I have a lot more childish joy than most.  giggling at the way the sun sparkles between the trees.

yellow leaves fall around me like rain in the wind.

good things are in me because of this.  an extra dose of sympathy or love?  When I have my director's hat on, I can still remember to hug people and remind them that we have hearts, too.

And for teachers of dance it is an excellent thing as well.  I can give people vision.  they treated me like a celebrity in cardiff :) 

and i train myself, with passion and concentration lost on people half my age.  and how many people meditate and do yoga every day?  on their own.  there are some of course.  hmm.   I do not know any.  Id love to meet them!

anyway, these relatively few and simple things, I can do.  even if it took 56 fucking years.  and a sort of heart attack.

7.11.11   Flying to Cardiff, England

funny thing is, ever since the operation..  or whatever it was, I have been sitting zen twice a day, and training every day,

and sewing, and just generally doing many things each day.  getting all kinds of things done.

not "funny", exhausting is the word.  well, sometimes, like yesterday and today, but usually its ok.

here's the thing, Steve Jobs (and many other people) said "Live each day like your last".  But I sort of feel like I was doing that anyway.  There is so little that i would do differently.

Maybe sit zen every day.  and do yoga every single day.  But exactly that is what I am doing now.

and I started aerobics training.  daily.

actually, i have a kind of plan, which i have actually had for many years.   to do 2 trainings, and kinds of training every day.  is the 2-of-7 rule.  i have 7 kinds of training, and each day i do -- or want to do, or plan to do -- 2 of them.

I hope I can remember that this is my life, and the way I want to live it. Standing up, even when I am tired, training.  loving people even when they are not nice.

(those things seem like opposites, but strangely are not.   when I do one, i do the other.)

my heart still beats a little funny sometimes.  I would not say it ever exactly hurts though.

Maybe some kind of electrical disturbance...?

1.11.11  Weimar 

and time did indeed pass. and i am sitting in a hospital room.
my heart arteries were good. lots of flow. thats good. we still do not know why my ST is high, and why my heart beats funny when I train, but at least it is not stuffed arteries. which is good. healthy arteries are good.

so, yey! celebrate.  with zen. and yoga. and friends.

that i did it.  good for me.

do you want to know how it was?

well, it was pretty easy. it took about 6 minutes. after all that stress. haha. I mean I am still in hospital, for overnight. for... just in case I guess.

they wheeled me in to a big clean room. my doctor was not there, someone else. I asked the nurse, "has he done this before?".   he never even smiled, but he did a good job. he knew exactly what he was doing, he was well-trained and experienced. I asked the nurse if he was an "ober" arzt, a full- or senior doctor. "yes", she said. "Fine", i said.

and asked him questions too. a little novocain in the wrist, a little tickle in my arm muscle as it slid it in and ... nothing. I ... kept thinking that I was feeling things in my heart. a strange beat here and there. in my head? or maybe i was feeling the dye? im pretty sensitive. mostly what I felt was just anxious.

"Your heart beat is a little fast" he said. "Well, I'm a little nervous" i said. "I can understand that", he said.

he said towards the end that I would feel hot from my toes to my ears, which i did not. but more interesting, he said before we started that he didnt expect to see anything, and he was right. ok, my doctor was being careful in ordering this test perhaps. fine. now know we know a little more. careful is good.

i will gather the results and send them to my friend of a friend cardiologists. see what they say. maybe i just train a littler lower key, as I have been anyway this week. maybe a mild beta-blocker, whatever that is. more to learn.

no immanent operation. no special risk -- or at least not THAT one. life is still limited though. and still has risks. one less maybe. thats nice.

do i have less fear now? um, sure. more committment to life and love and my work? yes. that was a fucking hard week though.

26.10.11  Weimar 

and now it is tomorrow, the angio i mean. each day, each day, each day moves closer. its so strange even though it is so normal of course. i have felt this before, this not-knowing-what-is-coming. its awful. but in another way, wonderful. I have to say it. its like, every day should be like this: not knowing. feeling openness and love. and on the edge.

even if singed with darkness.  maybe that is how life should be.

theres 2 things i guess: finding out, perhaps what I have. and then theres the test itself. which should be the lesser I know... haha. well, thats me. the little things sometimes matter more than the big things.

so i am looking forward to knowing. it might something pretty easy to fix. or difficult to fix. it might be very important. or not very important. toss a coin. make a wish.

i feel good. that is nice at least. and if I have to live more gently, as I have the last week, well, I am ok with that. it was a good week. focussed even while scattered in another way. I will continue that.

and the yoga, and I want to keep doing that too. I actually did many things that I had been putting off. my taxes, I sewed pants and a bag. I even put a headlight on my bicycle (I built it myself out of LEDs and a tennis ball). and work on the project of course. I did not waste time. I moved with diginity and grace and did what I was supposed to. it made me feel good. kind of proud.

I face my fears. learn from this.

21.10.11  Weimar 

4 days ago, a doctor told me I had an elevated ST. this is code for something with my heart. funny, as in strange, as in dangerous.

the last 4 days have been interesting... and not easy. not at all. in fact scary. the beginning of something. maybe not today, maybe not this year, but we do all die you know. including me. including you. and this obvious fact has been staring in the face, the way the cows stare at you from the side of the road when you walk past.

i taught dance tonight. what a pleasure, what a release. to move, but also the joy to see others moving. i told them how beautiful they looked as they lept and twisted and turned in all directions. and they knew I meant it - and they knew I was right! dance is beautiful. It was a big class. I hope they come back for more.

and in the grocery store, a stranger came up to me to help when she heard how the woman who worked in the store did not have Tahini. we laughed as we discussed directions to the only arabic store in town, "..oh you mean next to the porno store" yes, thats it.

my point is life, _life_ is real these days. i move a little slower and more carefully. I plan my movements more deliberately. I see my fears, and I fight them in the ways that I know -- I sit zen meditation twice a day and do yoga every day now. this does not erase them, but it helps. It reminds me that I am me. and that my fears are my fears. Each thing, a place. I eat meals. I breathe air. I drink water.

i have an angiogram in 3 days. then we will know more...

summer, 2011  Toronto, Montreal

With Larry.  :)

6.4.11  Weimar   on dying

I remember being told that no one knows where we go when we die,

and I didn't believe them.

I thought they just didn't want to tell me.

1.4.11  Weimar   geared up

tomorrow, or later today i mean, we start.

Ha.  one of those moments. We start tomorrow....   exist excites extra. man with a dream.

March went slowly -- it seemed to go on and on.  the days, alone, mosying into the office at 1130, poking till 9 or 10 at night, gettin ready.

not bad.  almost as good as working on a show hey... remember? with helena?  the days before -- the months, the weeks.  best fucking days I ever knew.

wonder where this will lead. 
and who i can be.

30.1.11  Weimar    cruisin

starting to work on the exist thing.  they say

WE GOT THE GRANT

so now the work.  which i am really looking forward to, even if I know the job most probably will explode before my eyes (in size).

switzerland first.  leave on thursday.  coool.

21.1.11  Weimar    wow

could it really all be this simple.  You train, 3 hours one day (including rock climbing, er, wall climbing).

you get up sore, and do it all again. 

and you feel fucking amazing.  like ... everything is possible!

its not just the sport...its the... creating that goes with it, when you do it right. 

when you choreograph.

Wow.  i had almost forgotten this....  wow.

19.1.11  Weimar     ocean dream

I dreamt we were by the sea, in the grassy dunes.  Me and...  I dont know exactly.  someone important to me. and the water was wild and windy and blue, and

we _thought_ that a certain body of water was the ocean but I called to her, shouting to be heard in the wind, "no, that is not the ocean." "How do you know?", she called back. "Because with oceans you can't see the hills at the other side of them!"

the _real_ ocean, you see, was where I was taking her, beyond those grassy hills. 

so I was leading us there.

so, what does it mean dude?

13.1.11  Weimar     checking in with a cold

still cold.  oof.

Dream again:  I went out with Meredith Monk and Björk.  The latter was Really nice and I totally enjoyed talking to her. 

Today i was interviewed for a student film about aging.   actually about being "grown up".  I said it was overrated.

my advice for young people would be, don't bother.

11.1.11  Weimar

Cold.  oof.

Dream:

I was throwing frisbee back and forth with a monkey.

i wonder what it means?

the frisbees were strange.  The monkey was very normal though. 

Just a typical game of monkey frisbee.

I have enjoyed my chirstmas break VERY much.

but now i am eager to get back to work!

7.1.11  Basel   - visiting helena and her family

Dream:

we were in a spaceship.  it was a bit flimsy perhaps, but it was roomy and comfortable.  there were about 10 of us, i didnt know everyone yet.  our mission was not so much to go somewhere as to escape something.

the ship was built out of 2 levels - both were round and had "areas", i.e. not really separate rooms. there were 4 control centers_ telemetry, life support, power supply and communication. each had the essentials of all 4 so tht the ship could be controlled by any of them, but the central control for each focus provided additional services. there was an expert on board for each of the four but everyone knew all the basics.

we picked up an alien by mistake.  there was blood and a search underway...

there were twins from Persia.  I accused them, of ... that one of them was an imposter.  and was really the alien. 

there were some nice people on board.  some I trusted.  of course we would never see earth again, but neither I nor anyone else seemed to mind. we were all a bunch of losers.  or winners?

once the ship started to roll.  you could tell mostly by the view -- how the planet under us was moving in circles around the ship.   i closed my eyes till the nausea abated.  i hoped everything was alright with the ship, but i trusted my shipmates.

it occurred to me to wonder why we had gravity and someone told me that it would take another 2 weeks before it was gone completely.

23.12.10 - 6.1.11  Paris   

christmas in paris.  2 weeks of foods and people and wine.  conversation en francais.  other things i shouldnt mention here...

12.12.10   Weimar

my hearing came back  :)  relief.  O, but what does it mean?  what does aging mean?  death?

8.12.10   Weimar

I lost half of the hearing in my right ear the day before the day before yesterday.  how strange. 

doctor said.... well nothing really.  only that i dont have a cold. 

i hope i get my hearing back. the only good thing about it ... is that it makes me realize how fucking wonderful it is to be alive.

I feel inspired. 

Just have a headache non-stop, and a ringing in my ear.  but ok. wtf.

25.11.10   Weimar

i did a half a dance class.

my own, sure, but it counts.  i feel it.  oh yeh.

my studio is a big gym.  linoleum floor with all those colored lines making unaesthetic patterns, and shouts of gym teachers and kids in the other cloth-walled-off section.  I liked it.  Ive had class in stranger places than this...

Doing Cunningham's sixes, on the damp sand, alone one windy day in Denmark.  It was kind of dark in my memory -- dawn or dusk -- a beach on the east coast, i must have been with manu then...

But today I danced, and so have to have that feeling that goes with it.  like an alcoholic that has had a drink -- the feeling that i have to have more.   And all the other things we do -- see how they pale in comparison.

And normal life feels like hangin out -- waiting for the hour tomorrow when I will do it all again.

11.11.10   Weimar

its the Grant.  the big one.  EXIST.

pretty funny name, right?  existential.

no pun intended.

but i just want to take a minute to notice the suspense. to work hard on something, a vision.  not knowing if we are going to win it.

its a little like before the performance, remembe!? the quickening?    how we would marvel at the not knowing, the tension and the faith.

how REAL it felt.  sometimes and night my lover and I would just stop and notice --  just that -- especially helena  or Larry.  or Alex Koziara.   A soul mate. 

it is possible, you see, to see it as something separate from the thing you are making.  like a dream within a dream -- a show within a show.  do you see what i mean?  the working on the thing -- the breaths you take as you do it, all of it becomes like a performance -- heightened.

11.10.10   things!

i think i missed my mothers birthday. oops.

there is always so much to say.  so much that NEEDS to be said.   helena knows what i am talking about:

its THINGS!    things.

all those things of life.  the morning, the way the sun squints off the orange trees, just once, before you get busy with another day and all the leaves fall off.

and tree skypes me, and d. calls.  and i call larry.  and then helena sms's back that I am doing great.

and I smile about that, as I change my shoes in morning, to ones that hurt my feet, but look better for my meeting out in the styx, at the handicapped place. 

to which I carry all this equipment, and it seems strange and remote.  and the handicapped people always make me feel things that i cannot explain.  but the staff likes me and my vision and say they will write me a letter.

9.11.10   clap clap

I taught one of my best classes.  ever.  i dont know if the students noticed... but i think so.  a couple even began to applaud.  which for a university class, is pretty good.  i think.  i dont remember clapping after classes when I was a student.  except of course dance classes.

1.11.10   back in Weimar

now i am prof. again.  i, prof.

started teaching at the university.   its fun and exhausting and .... unsettling, for reasons I cannot see.   im trying to envision what makes a clear and concise course.  what gives a course purpose and vision, that is, what can inspire?  and do i care?

people come up to me afterwards and smile and thank me, and say how they feel inspired.  so i know I am doing something right. still, nothing is self-evident.  and i feel unsatisfied so far. 

i remember taking a course at nyu on post modern dance and Deborah Jowitt was the teacher.  she was brilliant, trully brilliant for the first three or four classes.  then it was a little as if she ran out of steam. or original ideas.  maybe she was "turning the class over to us" more, but it felt more like she ran out of things to say.  or stopped going through the arduous task of preparing her talks.

Both helena and larry told me recently that they admire me for "still doing it".  not giving up, or in.  they meant being an artist and dancing and motion tracking...  and they meant, being independent and doing what I "believe in".  still their comments surprised me. 

I was not aware that I had not given up.

23.10.10   bergamo, italy

"sleep it off" he said, as if it were a hang-over. 

or maybe all things are fine and as they should be.  maybe the story will even have a happy ending.

though i doubt it. you know, the thing about this blog is,,, someone may actually read it!   I just hope I dont get in trouble.

in their ten commandments, the Norwegian bohemians of the 1890s proclaimed, "thou shalt write thy life!".  they meant expose yourself,  turn yourself inside out! 

which has always been my motto.  and I was thinking this morning, at 5:30, on my way to the bus to the plane to the train to the taxi, how my artist's credo has held true.  and fuck, at least I _have_a credo!   a.k.a. shoot the piano player by Trufault.

and Im walking talking to the chill air in a pitch dark of that hour, and it occurred to me that the love thing, that which I believed in most, and for so long, has turned out to be something of a ruse. barely more than a red herring.  Im not talking about myself and my feelings, but of what it has meant to the world. 

When I first felt love in my heart, I thought, having no religion, that it was the essence of art.  I thought it that I would _use_ it somehow, those feelings.

Young actors sometimes say that.  Oh that pain, you can put it to use.

But honestly, now? I don't see it.  the whole thing cost so much more than it ever gave back. other things turned out to be much more important.

21.10.10   bergamo, italy

glorious life...  you think?  you look at the beaches, the sunny skies.  I like these people,,, and this work it keeps me,, what?,  busy? hopeful?  fed?  i dont know how to say this.  it is the middle of the night. and all seems empty and lost.

do i travel too much?  too little?  i have little choice anyway.  i dont plan these things.

there is so much suburbia stretching before me, so much endless mediocrity.   and work.  only work. well, not a happy time I guess.  not anymore. 

16.9.10   back in Weimar

busy day. did zen, yoga, danced in the park, studied french,  called people in canada.  cooked a fish in butter with onions, basel and hazel nuts.

5.9.10    Laredo, Spain  Thoughts on Sound

3 days with pablo by the sea :).

I am on top of a little mountain now overlooking the sea between escalante and laredo. i see a blue ocean sparkling in the sun.  no people.

I was thinking on my way up about sound bubbles, or the chewy kind of particles that Takehisa Kosugi seems favour (a la soundance). They have that biological sound (as pablo's filmmaker friend would say), and yet are not necessarily like something one could identfy as "natural".

I want to wade through such sounds, disturbing them as I go. Waking them up.  exciting them, maybe making them more chaotic. 

Multi-dimensional transformations of particle arrays mapped in some intuitive way to tactile (haptic) and body (kinesthetic) experiences.

In simpler words, ways to make things that could make it fun to move, to move sound, to be sound.

more thoughts on sound - here.

2.9.10   escalante, Spain

4-day workshop with Germàn and Icha.

Great.  Super nice duo:  www.13dias.com.

5.8.10    weimar

choreographed today again in the cemetary.  near the grave of Goethe.

Manu said I should figure out a way to get a grant out of this fact.... 

Ill get a picture next time.

I registered today.  In germany you have to register where you live.  So I am here now.

now I make hamburgers for my roommies.

31.7.10    weimar

woosh. another bunch of days here. 

interesting projects, its just going awfully slow.

i guess it is August in germany.

11.7.10    weimar

i moved in.   Karl-haussknechtstr.

its very nice.  quiet.  and cool.  

2.7.10    weimar

looking for an apartment in hot weimar.  a room actually. start small.  work up.

13.6.10    iceland, into the wild

click here -- pictures of iceland   :) )

6.6.10    paris

2 days here.  back in the land of good food -- really good food  (at the moment i smell a duck browning on the stove.

I drank something called wine today with delph and her friends in the la villette park.   half-drunk, i trained in the grass by the water side, as she and her pic nic birthday party spoke something called french. 

I made this page with my mother in mind.  but today, as I finally got around to inviting her to read it,  well, I expect that the lettering is too small for her eyes.   it is almost too small for mine.

and of course, im doubt her interest.

30.5.10    hohenstadt

I have 4 days to pack up everything I own.  

fine.

25.5.10    romainmôtier, switzerland

This place is spectularly beautiful.  I walk around the town at 7, but otherwise I am preparing my talk and dance performance.   I want them to be good.

I am artist-in-residence here.  I have this mansion to myself these days; before the others arrive. 

Its a thousand years old, this house, and perfectly renovated -- as only the swiss might do it.

23.5.10     flof ?

every few minutes another petal falls from the big red flower in the vase under the window.  "plop", they would say, if they could.  they look damp as they fall.  they whisper, and the word comes out "flof".

20.5.10     valladolid, spain

The sun is setting very slowly tonight.  fine.

i can see it, the color of honey, out the window of this prematurely air conditioned train car.  Im heading up from Madrid.  its a good train.  just too cold.   the air outside is PERFECT.   I felt it at the station.

perfect air, warmed by the plains of Spain. 

18.5.10     porto, portugal

Ahhh,  to see the sea at last. 

its been a fucking long time.  I didn't jump in, like I used to -- but then, my hosts were waiting for me back at the restaurant (I ran off after ordering).  To have come back dripping wet would have been ... odd.

The beach in Porto by the Catolica Universitada is clean and the grains of the sand are large and couples moan and grope behind the rocks.

All of Porto is great -- urban and rural both. Relaxed and stressed.  At first it reminded me of New York.  but then I saw that the river side.  It was clean and there were no advertisements.  none.  This is not New York.

A dynamic arts community -- with dance!  How long has it been since I have seen real dance!  Jeepers.  Those girls were good.  I saw some great pique turns with dips and swoops.   I saw a perfect grand plié.

I will propose to work with nubile creatures in the Fall.

11.5.10    weimar, germany

La ville est très vieille et charmante, pas seulement au cause du batiments de 19. et 18. siècle, mais donc c'est un pays oublier -- pour 50 ans la communisme empechent leur commercialism et développement.  cool.  vive la communisme!   Vive Palindrome!

the really strange thing is that I am going to move here. Try a new ,,,, life.    This feels very strange.

26.4.10     Romainmotier, switzerland

I get a couple of days in a paradise.,., a place called Romainmotier,

which is in French Switzerland. I got them to pay my train down here to check out the possible venues for my performance next month.
and once here, well, I managed to charm a couple nights in the medieval hotel (well, it never hurts to ask).

But partly, you know, its just Europe. These things happen here. There are places like this -- impeccably renovated, and dedicated to serving Culture. No signs "please give generously", in fact no ads of any kind. The people here focus on , yes, serving Culture. you know, art, things like that. Jeepers. And its gorgeous.

I happen to know that Migros (grocery store) money is behind it, or at least , are behind the organizers who are renting this place out for the last week of May.

But you still get my point. Even Canada does not see this sort of support for Colloquiua -- about art!  Its called Europe. There are actually quite a lot of things -institutions, events and so on - like this.

And walking in the forest nearby this morning, as the Springtime sun was rising, in the hills, to the music of swiss cow bells, I had to think of you,,,, and all my ami friends, wishing they could be here. You would love this.

Now excuse me, but I think I have to go back outside in the garden and take another nap.

26.4.10     picture this

Three-dimensional forms, like architecture, only in gentle motion, rising, shifting, rolling, in all directions at once.  The colors -- if color is the right word -- are all different shades of white and grey in crystal clear relief against a sky blue sky.  Clouds.

Now zoom back and pan to the front car of a german train.  At th e front of the car is a large bicycle compartment, empty and carpetted, and in it, a crazy middle-aged dancer is holding a yoga pose. 

I don't know what it is called, but i am standing with my legs wide apart, arms open wide and twisted over so that one hand is on the floor and one is pointing straight up.   Breathing five times, I am concentrating that my knee caps are lifted, all the while gazing out from my down-hanging position out the window, AMAZED at these upside clouds.

Meanwhile, all around it is green with springtime and yellow with flowers, all moving at 300 miles per hour.

jesus -- so much complexity!  How can I -- this one little being -- possibly contain all that.

I'm in a good phase. happy about my upcoming move -- my new life -- even though I know I will surely find living conditions far simpler and less beautiful than those I have known.  You would think i would care,,, do I?  Not much, if at all.  Is it penance, or am I simply "above all that"?

Or just naïveté.

Naïve or not, I feel ok in this train, and with this life.

23.4.10     dreams of flight

I dream of flying.  I always have, though less often now.  Less often when im not dancing.

Flying machines, birds, clouds, but especially I dream that I myself can fly just by moving arms up and down in the right way. This is a symbol of course. A metaphor in the truest sense, that is, not in the sense of something we _conceive_ but something that arises in and of itself.  Like an image in a mirror.

It stands for creativty -- my creativity -- which, I have a feeling, has little to do with what it may mean for someone else.  I wouldn't know.

What i do know, is that all my life Ihave felt Something inside me.  At a certain point I can remember, i was around 19, I discovered there might be a word for it that thing.  I remember wondering if I might one day understand it,,,, as a Thing.,,, or Concept but I was skeptical. , I had heard about something called "art", but what had this to do with that?  And can a person be "an artist" without actually making art? It is strange because of course I knew the word, and yet, ,,, I guess I sensed it meant more than the things people were telling me about.

It was in that same year that I decided to try to become one -- still not knowing what it was!  Munch helped me to finally understand, reading biographies of him and looking at his paintings.  Once I went all the way to Washington DC to see the originals.  I flew to Norway for the same reason.  Hey, remember, I hitchhiked to Aasgardstrand (Munch's summer home near the water) like a pilgrim.  There was not much there.

But I was talking about dreams of flying and this idea of a Thing within me.  In my dream, there is never anyone else that can do it (except once Jan Vomacka, or his angel).  It is my special gift.  And if you asked me what it meant, for example, am an artist? well, in a way I would have to say yes, but it is not as if this "thing" has anything to do with anything that I have ever created.   or not directly.

And yet the connection,  on a very deep level , is there.   And the feeling I am calling creativity is special. It does not mean anything you understand -- nothing that you read in a dictionary.

22.4.10      in love with a machine

I dreamt i fell in love with ... a girl but then she turned out to be a remote-controlled helicopter. 

20.4.10      starting a new piece

I have an idea of something.

so i started something new today.  in the garden, after yoga.   a solo, or the beginning of one , ,maybe,,, something I have thinking about a first few gestures, thrusts and pops.  its interactive, or will be....  it has to do with sound.... and power.  its an opening

but you know what is the STRANGEST THING OF ALL??? 

I made maybe 40 seconds of material,

and yet

i feel so good --  Like I DID something.  and i can go to sleep happy.  Just for that.  haha.  do you realize how little sense this makes?

its just a few seconds of movement.  right? - its not even paid work.

but it has nothing to do with work, or play,  or anything
of this world...

and yet

there it is.  I know im not saying this very well, but

it has always been there. you could look through thirty fucking years of diaries, and you will find this again and again,

this being-astounded

and happy by the power this has in me, over me,

a few movements, which i made, for a purpose
(not that it is one i understand)

it is nothing -- or   next  to nothing.  a ghost, a dream. 

and yet

to be in the middle of something like this...   is as strange as life gets.  not the idea of the thing , but the thing itself! 

anyway, I can hardly wait to get to the studio tomorrow.

not that it will be easy.  it won'T!  i know this.  but that is part of it.  the struggle, the unknown.  that something may be at stake!

16.4.10     a sad memory

sleeping under my sleeping bag, reminds me of that place in San Francisco where i lived many years ago, with a budhist friend.  I remember having only a sleeping bag and a slab of foam (though the house was impeccable).  Few thing and yet it seemed like enough!  I was so young, and often confused, but i was beautiful and my heart was in the right place.

I liked it. The simplicity, just a sleeping bag and a matress.    i still feel that way sometimes.  Like its all I need, that and a place to dance.

Anyway, remember that night in berkeley when my family was supposed to pick me up on a street corner to take me to dinner. i was late, and they had not waited?  remember walking back home crying?

14.4.10  Schwäbisch Gmünd

i rode to town today. i participated in society -- or pretended to.

at least i watched it; a set of mores, niceties that actually seem like anything but. but ok, its the way, their way, the people in a town in central germany. i play along, trying not to stand out too much. though i probably do anyway.

i am in a shop now. waiting. around me i see ... more than commerce.   and so much less than warmth or friendliness. its called marketing, it is a sales person, a greeting smile, halogen lights, body language, racks of products, cards and money, people are coming and going. its all correct. but i hate it, all of it, for reasons that i cannot explain.

sometimes these things seem quaint to me, and with the right other person, like delph, i can even enjoy it. if vicariously.

8.4.10 train to regensburg

happy birthday me. hm..better not think about it.

been on the road now for 6 weeks.  cool.   i would do it forever if i could.  before that another bunch of weeks. it makes me think of frey or erich. whom i just wrote.

it occurs to me that the reason I write this is so that when I die there will be something left. some record of my existence. something one or two people will remember. for a while. which is plenty, actually.

pathetic, right?  6,000,000 people have written these exact same words. 

7.4.10 Basque country

my walking ended. and now it is raining.  good timing. 

I met up with pablo in madrid.  stayed at his place in spain.  with muriel too. what nice people.

7.4.10 Basque, somewhere

i dreampt i was with the actress, angelina lily, if that is really her name, and she was showing us, and then me alone, her first tatoo, which she was very proud of.
but it was still on paper, not yet on her skin, on a kind of shiney green paper and i must say, it was not very good art. it was too busy with lots of little figures, but I said i liked it anyway, to support her in her excitement.

but what AMAZED me was ,,, her. to be in her presence. and she had taken her shirt off, to show me exactly where the tatoo was to go, and while i could not see her breasts, I could see freckles on her chest, and the intimacy of what was going on completely derailed me.
the only other thing i remember is saying something to the effect that the tatoo might hurt her acting career.

but the point is that the dream left me, and leaves me, feeling full of love, deep and true. like god. like Her. the same feeling i got from the dark-haired girl whom i passed on the path.

so what is this supposed to be? what is that mystery? what is it for? I like it , but see it more as an addiction, than anything that might be in some way healthy. beauty too rich for use, for earth, too dear.

let it be. it goes by, as itself, like those little flashes i get sometimes while sitting zen.

like that curl in the ocean waves just before they break.

6.4.10   vino tinto

they served me a bottle of vino tinto last night. "no! i said, only a glass!"  its ok,she said, just drink what you want.

it was cold, and i was thirsty.

woke up in the night with a big fucking headache.

which i sweated out, climbing the first hill of the day.
as sweeny would say.

6.4.10   somewhere between Mutriku and Markina-Xemein (pronounced "Chemin")

Springtime perfection! Quiet and solitude. I look for, what? a way to hold it. something substantial. something I can take home. IT IS A FANTASTIC DAY, its just another day. either way it ends tonight.

I walk and walk, almost in a trance. thoughts coming and going. samo samo. happy, sad. whatever.

planning my talk for Switzerland next month, speaking it over and over in german as i walk.

When I was the village in southern france with tree, in love, I could not believe my luck, remember? so I sat zen in the park while she walked on, remember? it didn't do much.

But you know, for me to walk this path, with my staff, and "pilgrim pass" (a kind of identity card they give you when you start out), for me to "become a "pilgrim" is ... I mean it occurred to me that I was already one.  often on the road, looking for truth and beauty, trying to find value in things.... to make sense out of things. not really being a part of society.... a little dependent on charity, when there is some to be had.... otherwise roughing it. I mean, hell, to be a pilgrim is just normal life for me.

I haven't had a conversation with a friend for weeks. and face-to-face, not for months. not to anyone with whom I can share things really on mind. I mean, I can _tell_ other people these things, but they usually look at me the way a dog looks at you when you've just told it you're thinking about a career change.

I miss you-

I sit Zen overlooking the sea, but I still miss you.

5.4.10  unknown village on the coast of Spain

Dear L, what I would give to share a cold one with you. 

This beauty, and solitude it is both light and heavy.

mostly alone.

4.4.10   6-second lovers

A girl passed me going the other way. She looked in my eyes and smiled and laughed and spoke to me in Spanish (which of course I did not understand). She talked to me as if we were old friends, looking right in my eyes and smiling. She was so cute I almost fell over. short black hair and a good nose. And then she was gone and that was that. still, and, stupidly perhaps, she left me full of hope.

3.4.10  camino de santiago

Jeepers creepers.,, I dont think my legs have EVER been this sore. I can hardly move. Wow! Haha!
Tomorrow I am going to walk on my hands. I need to balance out my body.

Yesterday I rehearsed my piece, high up on a hill side. The sheep watched.

And when I got to the sleeping place, one guy asks "what can I do to help me with .....?" I can't remember, some body thing.
So i started giving him some exercises, and before I knew it I was teaching my class on the patio, way out in the country, and more and more people joined in. The owner lady, her daughters, all the german tourists, till finally I was teaching a big class. it was a bit surreal. but made me feel useful.

2.4.10  Octopus hamburger, San Sebastian, Spain

Dear P, Have you HAD this thing?

WOW. nouvelle cuisine, i.e. a little precious perhaps, but hey, why not? art food. food as art. anyway, its fucking delicious!
it looks completely strange. even the salt on it has strange forms. little crystal pyramids which crunch apart softly as you chew.

I am sitting in the Zeruko restaurant, working on a talk I have to give in Switzerland next month -- somewhere near Lausanne I think -- at a conference called

"The Future of Digital Performance, or The Persistence of the Analogue"

its all in German

I want to do a really good talk, and performance. I think I will show the Chinese piece. Since I am doing it a lot.
But also, as a part of the talk, I want to demonstrate what I think "works" in video interactive mappings.

Might be a time to bring in some SC?  we have a Little bit of time: Its May 28. We could make a really good show+demo.
Do you want me to ask if you can come?
Even if you can't, I would love to work with you on a few simple things. It seems like a good way to start the SuperColider direction....

1.4.10  crowded train. Northern Spain.

I remember teaching once, in Erlangen, 20 years ago, and there was a girl in the class, who wanted to be one of us -- to show us that she could dance, but it was hard for her since it was her first time (and since she wasn't a dancer). frustrated she went to the corner to drink her water in the middle of class and i could see the shyness in her face, as she drank her water. Shy, to be in a class, with others, with her body, and drinking water.
I felt something similar once, eating, in an airplane. Food was being passed out, and we were to eat, in this strange setting -- flying, turning, lifting in a fusiloge of metal -- and we had our food and our drinks and were to consume them.
I did what I was supposed to, stiffly, shy among others.

And now here I am, with my picnic, in this crowded train, not speaking the language and trying to negotiate a place where I can use my knife on my crusty bread and hard salty sheep's milk cheese.

Finally I give up, and look out the window,  Feeling the part; a stranger in a strange land.

30.3.10  valladoid, Spain

walking around the streets of valladolid. they are filled with people of all ages, strolling, talking, kissing, laughing. I mean _filled_. Holidays are coming, and the community socializing. The atmosphere is festive, and a friendly sharing is going on. not something you would see in America. or not normally,

america is more "every man for himself". or, every man for himself and his family, as my sister would say.

Despite the joy and life all around me, I am apart. Its a language thing (I dont speak Spanish). i.e. i feel their warmth extends to me.

And anyway i am down.

I go into a restaurant and sample the wine before ordering dinner. a few big swallows and my mood has completely changed.

24.3.10  madrid

a few minutes ago, coming into this Madrid metro, i discoved that they do not take credit cards and i have no cash at all (oops). I begged the 2 euros 50 from a stranger.  Politely, I asked, "i wonder if you could help me with a problem?"

"If I can", said the beautiful young frenchman with a gotee. "I don't have any euros and they don't take credit cards". I said, in French. "No problem", he said, handing me the coins, and we smiled good bye.

next I asked for directions. people helped me.  I could see it made them happy to do so -- to be part of this world of simple gestures and kindness.

and I am reminded of hitchhiking, which I have taken to doing pretty regularly to get to my studio in the country.  Espeically when it is cold and I have my motion tracking gear.  I climbed down out of the high cab of a HUGE snow plow truck, smiling at the fun of it all, me and backpack and the salt-of-the-earth beauty of a man, to whom no one would dare say so to his face.  He probably broke his company's rules to help me out.

23.3.10   Springfield, MO  les parents

visited my parents last week. good that i had a show on my mind and rehearsed every day. otherwise... the surreality of the visit would have been a bit much. aucun de tendresse. it seems so strange now, vacuus. I mean, I know it is absent in many families, but having experienced the other kind, I am now struck by its absence. and the sense of tragedy that goes along with that.  spock here, captain.

the relationship of spock to capt. kirk is like that of frieder to me. or was.  clever vs. passionate.  See?  it is a competition you know well -- a dielectic, an enigma:  a mother and a father.

and i fantasize discussing it with them, or him, one day.   and recounting the story of the time when skiing and helping my father after he crashed on the ski lift at Les Gets.  i called back over my shoulder, "are you ok?". and he answered "no!". so I skied back to him. i remember untangling his expensive watch band which had somehow gotten caught in his pole staps and the ski lift.

and afterwards, he was quiet, and spooked, which he tried to hide from us kids. his fear though was palpable. there is an irrational in him, in his life -- for him to hide, everyday, in every way, for it is ... what? pathetic? too personal?

anyway, that is one conversation I will probably never.

24.3.10   bus, germany, crack of dawn

I told larry on the phone last night that watching tv conflicts with the artist's credo and he burst out laughing.

my back hurt, hurts this morning. its because you did not eat a good breakfast, because you did not go to the neighbors for your oats, and you did not take the time this morning to roll and cook some into porrage.

live and learn. plan meals. its the one thing a partner, a woman, would do for me. fer sure. meal planing.

1 its going to tighten up today, and cause pain. accept it.

2 body is basically ok. think how minor this is! breathe with it. go slow.

3 maybe take an ibu.

4 carb up when you get a chance.

5 youve got your bouncing balls.

23.3.10   keeping vision

i used to think that i should not vegitate on planes. that my "artist's creed" included rules on the ethics of transatlatic flying. that you live deeply, fully, you interact, you feel, and that you never normalize. That you make plans, you go down lists, you feel things, you write your life. like the bohemians in berlin 1890's: "Thou shalt write thy life".

but now as i try to watch another stupid movie, 6 hours in... and write, and remember what that ... meant. and wonder if it still applies to me. 

and if not that, then what?  what am i then if I do not have artists' principles.

and i think of the love, or loves that I do not have beside me.... and the vague desire and willingness to change all things.

2.2.10  savannah georgia, usa

the plane has landed in fog. and i am foggy too and sleepy.  In the plane I dreampt of a wonderful future world. 
beyond the one i know, where everything is wonderful and new.

1.2.10   that of an artist

my new years resolution is to keep a diary.

of course, i do it anyway -- I have since i was 14.

so it should be an easy resolution to keep.

short entries. that will be my resolution. and somewhat more frequent.

I packed well, I think. I am in the air to Savannah Geo, one of many trippy trips.

I could have left my room and kitchen clearer.,, I could have done the cloning earlier (I actually did the shuttle through the night in the other room. which worked fine, i think, only that I had extra to do in the morning. Lieber the day before. Really important new files can be backed in a variety of ways.)

I want to call Gabi and beg her forgiveness that I disturbed her so early.

* * * * * *

I can not know for sure, but I could imagine that there are a lot of people who once dreamed of something -- a career, an adventure, something other than what they are now doing. Like Tony, my neighbor, who is a screen actor but 99% of his life he does other things. Its not that he is not good, but the level of commitment, the agents and push he would have to put into it is not really there.

He does other nice things of course, and has a family and a house. But neither are they his dream. It must occur to him, and all of them, all those ex-artists or sometimes artists, that their dream has sort of slipped away. Or turned into something else. Not a compromise exactly, but... the years are passing.

So when I doubt myself and doubt what I am doing. Or when I wish I was somewhere else, or more focused, or better managed. Or like him, or her, well, I should remember these other guys. I may have to do a side job sometimes, but basically, I live pretty damn close to my dream. And have done so for a pretty damn long time. I create. I perform. I dance.

hell, how many can say that?

And although I feel like a freak most of the time, and a misfit of society, I really should remember that the fact is actually quite the opposite. It is the many that admire the few, and this life is really nothing more or less than that of an artist.

11.17.09   in the air

"....and entered, by degrees, a new and somber life... probably he should have regretted his decision. He had not. That life had been one without excitement, with no adventure. It had been too safe. All the elements that made it up were right there before his eyes, and nothing new could ever be expected. It was like a little plastic boat, that could sail on without incident, until it finally sank.

But in this dark world where he now dwelt, ugly things and surprising things, and once in a long while a tiny wondrous thing spilled out at him constantly.  He could count on nothing... Not much in this life was truly rational, at least not in the strict sense."
    -- Philip K. Dick (Through a Scanner Darkly)

You know those shiney tall hats you rarely see, except perhaps in movies.  I saw a man in one this morning.  Standing outside the blah blah hotel in Nashville.  It was his job to stand there.  All day. His job was to open the door for people.  Or at least I assume that was his job. Standing there all day.  And at the end of the day, he would go home and feel he had done his work for that day.

Does it matter what they do?  Those with jobs.  It gives them all the same feeling at the end of the day.  the day is done and they are home.  They kiss their wife, or their dog.  They drink a beer and get sleepy for bed.

I had a job once.  By the second year I was taking anti-depressants.  It was either that, or kill myself.  Now I drift, dissatisfied with many things, but alive and clean.  It may be a desolate landscape, but i walk it true to my nature.

11.17.09   nashville

You know what?

I'm happy to be leaving this world of non-stop television screens and advertising. America has become a strange place to me,
I read in the paper this morning that 1 in 6 Americans were hungry at some point in the last year. And yet the people exchange "great's" and "wonderful's", and the staff at this fancy hotel always ask if they can get me anything. I want to say, yes, fairness and socialism.   But I am in capitalist mecca. surrounded by its artifacts and servants.  My words would only confuse.

11.16.09   Nashville, USA

Each meal results in a pile of trash larger than the meal itself.  Plastic boxes, paper cups, lids for the paper cups.  Tiny glass jars for the fruit preserves for my toast...  and so on.

Its breakfast in America.

38% of this population think Sarah Paliln is competent to be president.  Heaven help these guys.  I mean it.

11.15.09  Nashville

my room is filled with stand up cards telling me "We are Proud to Serve you Starbucks Coffee" and "A 250$ Cleaning Fee will be added to your room bill if we find evidence that you have been smoking". Or "Experience the Difference. Membership designed with you in mind".

I call the front desk, to try to get online and am immediately connected to a non-stop stream of advertising. Crass and nonsensical. Television, even worse. So I take a walk among the blaring shop windows and neon offers. I can hardly think. I can hardly feel.  My feet are leaden. I feel like Rimbaud.

But - you know - I am smashed. I performed yesterday, had breakfast with wonderful friends, and took two flights. Zoom zoom. Had a meeting with a corned beef sandwich and the lighting design company guy.  One of those big production types.  He told me he lit the president once.

What he wants is the video stuff frieder does. Figures.  reiterates what i was writing about earlier.  that which sells.  its in demand. its what you can make money with. Its what i do not like.

I'd like to feel ... I don't know, maybe proud. The people who saw me perform were enthusiastic and warm.  its like they were proud of me. why can`t I feel that way about myself?  I always felt like turning around to see who they were really talking to.

10.20.09    Columbus Ohio

The sponsor here, for my show , is called "Fuse Factory".  Such nice people.  I love them all, and it makes me sad how they have to struggle, just to exist.  What an impoverished land.

The teaching and the students were great though. They give me hope!  So much they praised me with the words that are in fashion -- awsome!  And they danced their hearts out.  As dancers do.

10.25.09   Hohenstadt

I'm back.  China -- or Taiwan actually -- was great.  I uplodaded a little video and some photos here.

10.20.09  Taipei

Wonderful. I enjoyed my first performance very much!

Alone, I could concentrate on performing. This is very different from directing, or directing and performing. I rehearsed carefully, as my training has taught me; did my barre backstage while the other performers (all musicians) were taking their turns on the stage.

The technology I used, which was pretty complicated, worked perfectly. I tested it three times, and then left it running. Things I've learned along the way. Now, the next day, I have people coming up to me with ideas for collaboration or touring in Asia.

I'll try to get a video up soon.

There is not much I would change in the piece -- except that I still think its not a "piece". I heard that the variety made it interesting, but I still feel that I would prefer to have only one composer. Obviously it can and must be expanded if I really want to make a show, but it was a strong step in that direction. I think my goal would be to travel with a company of, say, two, picking up dancers and creating additional quasi improvised group sections, new for each place we go. I like using the local language and local references -- as I did last night. I manipulated a sample of Chinese text (specific to this location) with my movements. I also spoke some Chinese in the piece. As flawed as my accent must be, these things endear you to your audience.

Now I 'm backstage on the next afternoon, sitting in a open doorway with a warm summery breeze, looking out on the botanical garden and drinking my Vitalon Salty Sarsaprilla (sic), which, despite its name, is sweet. As I expected. I'm actually performing something different tonight. I'm dancing in a piece by my host. It is romantic, odd and, to me at least, satirical -- good genre for me. Mihow!

10.18.09

I am going to speak a little Chinese in the piece I am presenting.. I just asked the man next to me on the plane if he could understand me as I practiced the lines. He said: "A little hard to understand". Wow- what a fking language. I thought I sounded perfect! Haha.

So, yes, I have 3 gigs on Taiwan this week!  Its a new solo "thing" -- I can't really call it a piece. "7 Memories". Because its really 7 piece-lets. Its an experimetnal music conference WOCMAT. Im also giving the keynote address.

I enjoyed the last 2-3 weeks of creation VERY much. The work with technology presents interesting challenges, as ever. I actually make a point of setting the equipment only every second day. That way it doesn't "take over" what Im doing.

I worked with two excellent composers on this project: Dan Hosken and Pablo Palacio. I draw on borrowed material as well.

I will show a similar piece in Columbus, Ohio on the 14th of November. Students from OSU (an excellent dance school) will be joining that production.

And I've started teaching again! I set up 2 little courses at the local community center and they seem to enjoy it. As do I. I also enjoy having money for groceries. Financially, this year has been a struggle!

Next year, starting in May, I want to try something new. Well, old is new. You can read hier.

31.8.09

Began counting out the 1000 yesterday. m=127.

Setting it to a rhythm will take a while... I am only up to count 24 and it took me an hour!  But ok.  Its a life project.

The HARD PART  now... i mean, what I still worry about is FINDING fucking 400 more fucking gestures.

grr. 

Couting beats is much more intricate than counting gestures. The reason is simple: every gesture does not take one beat.  Some do, but some do not.  and there are pauses. This is all very important for choreographic reasons, and f it is going to be a duet or larger,, which is my intent, then it is critical.  No cheating!

I added 16 more gestures today. Sometimes I think I have run out.  But,

that cannot be.

Patience, Neo, the answers are coming.

25.8.09

PS.  I showed some people the gestures in Madrid.  fine. see I was rehearsing in the corner and they asked to see it. My rehearsal, is to run through the whole thing of course.

Ok, Never combine showings and rehearsals.  A wizard should know better.  Next time: show people lways only a tiny sample.  never the whole thing.  it was not satisfying.

10.8.09

1. sophisticated and complex timing (work wi metronome, video, and then count it out - probably in 8s, but not necessarily.  it could be meterless with simply arbitrary phrasings.

2. analyse it.  score it.

3. generate a click track with accents to rehearse.

4. teach s.o. else

5. composer synchs up by:
  A. click track (i.e. traditional)
  B. haptic cuer to come out of breaks
  C. haptic cuer to freeze out of chaos
  D. re-synchs by button press