Sometimes a practice leads to an aesthetic one is tired of.

Is it the practice that is exhausted, or one's approach to it that leads to a habitual result?

Fear of loosing something,

by letting go of what once was nurtured nurtured and grown.

I wonder about what I may encounter, if I would dare to loose.

Looking for, searching, re-searching again, something I may have searched before, I notice it asks me to consider, assess, update aspects of the habitude, the practice:

-aesthetics, (those public or private) as in the aesthetic aspects that an audience may capture, or the ones I for myself individuate 

-emotive, (my personal relation with the practice) if I am affected by it in specific ways, or if having a relation of dependence, possession, rebellion towards it modifies my attitude

-disobedience to the rules it may imply, challenging my loyalty to it, or to what I take for granted within it.

A question emerges recurrently, and needs updating:

Where is my interest? 

Where is my fire burning?

If I have explored and exploited the potential of a methodology I happened to develop, is it me or is it the practice that is exhausted?

The methodology may become malleable and adopt multiple functions:

It may serve as a training tool, a generative instrument for composition, or a means of personal evolution, to grow and confront myself - in the way that I am doing now - by facing the limitations and the stagnations of the practice itself.

Has it died?

Have I then cremated it?

Is it now light and dispersible enough to fly out without my supervision or overview on how does it land?

And if there instead is a burning centre, the ash still hot, how do I feed it to pick up a flame again, or to blow the flame to go start a fire on another body?

Do I add friction?

Eliminate the superfluous ash?

Move the burning coal to another dry zone?

I resist associating

to the word "research".

I search, in a state of wandering.

The work I do becomes "practice as search".

Practicing searching confusion and doubt, to become comfortable with the discomfort these may carry;

Practicing searching Side Effects, to become aware of the expedients that might lead to serendipity;

Practicing being available to materials, to let them feedback to me as messengers of content.

Preparation is the work,

as practice is performance.

Work is the preparation,

as performance is the practice.
 

It is a way for me of processing the events around me, and mostly digesting how I respond to them. 

At times a way of making sense.

At others just a way of making,
which may or may not make sense.

It is nevertheless a mirror of how I,

the self in all my wirings,

seem to face and metabolise events. 

render myself available to the material, 

prepare to work with it.

practice my familiarity with its language, 

perform the work it enables.

I practice materials, with the materials, me as material, our-selves as material;

To study ways in which to choreograph.

What may this dialogue with materials make itself into, if it were choreography; an experience of movement?

How brutal would it be, if ideas were a funnel, and I would push material through them to make work?

Bending material to my will? Squeezing them to produce work. A violent act of possession.

Material speaks of itself.

My reading of it, speaks of myself.

If I wish for my experience of encounter with a material to communicate, the best I can do, is to attempt at a dialogue.

How do I dialogue with material?
I spend time learning to understand its language. 

Practice is catalyst, practice is expedient, practice is a form of devotion to “ learning without trying “ (D.Hay).