I was drawn to this image because its intimacy, the quiet focus of the artist who is also the art. One of the themes that I will be exploring in January is the way that art and life intersect. It will also be a big part of the focus of Breaking into Blossom, the online course on moving into an improvisational life that begins on January 23.
Many years ago, I took a workshop with the brilliant Eiko & Koma. I remember Eiko saying that she and Koma do not commute between their art and life. For them it is a seamless whole.
I am a householder. I have animals, a lot of them. They are a beautiful, essential part of every day. But their presence means that there are a million little moments in every day that are not art. Scooping poops, feeding dogs, cats, cleaning up vomit and pee. Brushing, walking, touching. As I said, not art. Or what can feel like a lot of little, niggly commutes.
Having said that, there is a way to be with those necessities that is a rhythm, a practice, a yoga even. And there is a direct path from all of that ritual to my work, my writing, and definitely my choreography, which is full of beasts – hooved, pawed, winged.
Are you commuting?
postscript: This week, The Journal (the little ragged memoir) is about the ways that I have taken art art into and onto my body. The how and the why of that, including the elaborate mapping of tattoos.
