Tag Archives: writing

pentimento

Ryder Cooley and Lady Moon (Ngonda Badilia) in Xmalia

Pam White and our friend Suzanne were talking about pentimento, the practice of over-painting – basically the artist changing his/her mind.  Pam had some examples of her own pentimento on her Google+ page.

That got me to reflecting on the past two days, when i have been directing and making new movement for Xmalia. The process of choreographing, standing back, and then going in and layering in different or denser or richer movement is painterly in a similar way.  Sometimes the hint of a first rendering is there, other times I obliterate it completely, but even so, some trace remains.

Maybe I just like the feeling of the word.  It reminds me of another favorite word, palimpsest, the difference being that in that case the layers of a manuscript or scroll or painting were scraped or washed away, say with milk and oat bran.

I think what I really like is the idea of underlayers – of something earlier either concealed or revealed by what has been put down later.

When I went from being an actor to being a dancer, the actor was still there, shining through in the dances.  Now that I am writing, the dancer is still there, because the words are gestural – like movement to me – they have a physical resonance that I can feel.

And sometimes I have scraped things away – old text, old selves.  More about that in The Journal this week.

I am interested in how you are feeling your layers.  Over-painting or scraping away with milk and oat bran?

SHARE & EMAIL

callings

Photo:  Jeffrey Anderson, from Flight, with Dillon Paul and Sanne

A horse appeared to me.  It was a horse I had known from some long ago time. Who knows what that long ago was, but the horse was very present, and I could smell the horse, and the horse was very familiar.  It seemed to be someone I know from long ago, and so I felt I knew the horse well.  I was very happy to see it, so happy that tears ran down my cheeks.  Joy Harjo

This week in The Journal I am writing about callings.  I am interested in the difference between a calling and a yearning, between lust and desire.  I have some stories about my own callings, and how they shape what is here now.  I got to thinking about this a number of yeas ago when I read Gregg Levoy’s Callings:  Finding and Following an Authentic Life. 

My post yesterday about the herd also reminded me that callings are usually embodied.  That is what Joy Harjo is talking about.  And a few of you mentioned that not everyone is that clear about how to communicate in an embodied way. 

Actually, that is a major theme of my online class beginning next week:  Breaking into Blossom.  The subtitle of the class is “moving into an improvisational life,” and so much of that, in my experience, is about being fully present in an embodied way – deep listening with the body.  My intention is that by learning to live more intentionally and improvisationally, and be more consciously embodied, you will find new and delicious ways of experiencing/approaching work and play.  

I hope you will join us.  You can register here.

finding focus

I saw this cabbage in Whole Foods.  It was so beautiful that I bought it specifically to photograph.  It was also sweetly delicious.  Since I got my new camera, I have been obsessed with image-making.  I am like a kid in a candy shop of color, light and shape.  Seeing me in my pajamas on the road is becoming a common sight for morning commuters.  Oh well.

I am also a new blogger.  I LOVE that.  I feel as if I am awakening from a long hibernation, and stretching out in the sun like a cat.  Writing has become luscious, unpredictable, my morning improvisation.

It has also pushed me to re-calibrate, to look at my goals.  Life goals, work goals.  To articulate them for myself and for those who are helping me figure out how to attract more people to the site.  More readers, more conversation, more connection, more community.  Practical law of attraction work.  Yesterday I heard Abraham say that if your action is driven by need or worry or lack, it is counterproductive.  That the best way to attract what you want is to get happy.  Simple as that, really.  It is a vibrational universe and we have to be vibrating at the highest, happiest frequency to attract what we are wanting.

I am pretty happy these days.  Actually joyful.  That has not always been something I could say.   I am writing about that this week in The Journal. What it is to be A Dangerous Woman.

Today though, I am writing to you, and that makes me very, very happy.

What is making you happy?

off island

When we first adopted our daughters we lived on Martha’s Island.  It was a wonderful, safe, sea-bound nest. One thing the girls quickly learned was that whenever we went somewhere that required traveling on a ferry or a plane, we were heading “off island.”

Even after we moved back to the mainland, they would still talk about going off island.  It was a funny, quirky remnant of island time.

One thing we found when we moved to the mainland is that there were many, many roads. Not just North Road, South Road and Middle Road.  (There are others, but you do travel the same paths a lot.)   I spent the first couple years, meandering.  Particularly after my Mom died, I would leave the stable and just drive – the Hudson River region is endlessly beautiful – I got deeply lost and I loved it.  It was a way of working out my geography – the new landscape of where we physically lived and where I was in the world without my parents.

For me, off island has come to mean other things.  I feel that my work is taking me off island. That I am headed out to open water, sometimes without any sense of purposeful navigation.  Perilous, adrift.  Mostly though, going off island feel pretty exhilarating.

My writing, which has been focused for the past few years on writing a book, is starting to morph and  shift, and I find I am bringing more of myself “on the mainland.”  Meaning I am writing in a public forum, and am hungry for a different kinds of connection.  When I started planning the blog, my friend, Jon Katz, said “Do it.”  And I am doing it.  Every day.

What is taking you off island?