PART B: Reading as a group (15 minutes)
Reading of texts from the previous writing practice - sensemaking between voices, compilation of fragments and chance resonances.
In a circle facing inwards:
Part I: A circuit clockwise – each person reads one word/short phrase of their text, going around the circle. Stay with this for some time.
Part II: After a while, Introduction of a second circuit of reading clockwise. Stay with this double circuit for some time.
Part III: After some time getting fluent with this, explore ‘crossing the circle’ – that is, one person reads a fragment and directs their gaze to someone else, who then responds by reading a fragment and directing their gaze to someone else, and so on.
Part IV: Spontaneous reading: Listening to the call of the emergent sense (allow for simultaneity and silences).
REFLECTION - 5 mins writing
Take a moment to recall the experience of the morning – individually writing some thoughts, observations, reflections. (?? perhaps also in relation to themes self/other awareness; Joint attention; Emergent “we”; awareness of cultural disposition; towards the collective; intimacy/public; attending to the ‘between’).
Optional – to share some words, phrase or sentences from the reflection, or to share some of your thoughts on the experience of the morning.
FOCUS FOR THE SESSION: Emergent themes around self/other awareness; Joint attention; Emergent “we”; awareness of cultural disposition; towards the collective; intimacy/public; attending to the ‘between’; commonalities/differences.
2.
* Swap pairing – coming to sit on a bench alongside a different writer.
* Write for 15 minutes in relation to the prompts: Attend to what happens. “Me” as something that is also happening. “I let myself happen”.
* After 15 minutes, each take time to read your text to the other. The listener might wish to look ahead (rather than directly at the reader), looking at and witnessing the situation. Consider the resonance/commonalities with your own writing (moments of connection and shared observation) as well as the differences. As you are listening, also notice the difference between ‘then’ and ‘now’.
SCORE 1:
NAME/OUTLINE: Attunement to the relation of self and other.
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 5 minutes
Take time to slowly walk around the space in silence - looking and listening. Moving through the space, noticing your own bodily sensations, your surroundings, as well as noticing the other writers. Tune in to the sense of your own body-experience at the same time as being-together involved in a shared activity.
SCORE 3
NAME/OUTLINE: SAY IT AGAIN (Letting the others’ writing influence)
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 30 minutes
There are a series of stages to this score/prompt which involves writing, and then passing the last line of your text to someone else, who then takes this as their next prompt to begin writing. Introduce one stage at a time! Coming back to a group in between.
* To begin: Writing in relation to the prompt – What escapes, what resists description, what is left out? (10 minutes)
* Come to gather in a circle. Pass the last sentence of your writing onto the person next to you in a clockwise direction by reading it to them aloud. They should write it down. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
* Writing beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point. The original prompt “What escapes, what resists description, what is left out?” can still be held lightly in mind if needed. See what comes. (10 minutes)
* Come back to gather in a circle. Pass the last sentence of your writing onto a different person by reading it to them aloud. They should write it down. This sentence becomes the starting point for their next phase of writing.
* Writing beginning with the other’s last sentence as a starting point. The original prompt What escapes, what resists description, what is left out? can still be held lightly in mind if needed. See what comes. (10 minutes)
INTERVAL: Take time to walk to the next location in silence – again, noticing/observing your surroundings with all of your senses, awareness towards the other writers, a sense of oneself as part of a wider collective (5 mins)
SCORE 5
NAME/OUTLINE: Attunement to the relation of self and other, in-touch-ness, contact/connection
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 5 - 10 MINUTE
- Begin walking. After a moment or two, head in the direction of another walking-writer, joining them to walk side by side for a while – noticing your rhythms of walking, the sense of leading/following/coming into synchronicity.
- After some time walking together, go your own way again (walking individually for a short while) before heading in the direction of a different walking-writer, joining them to walk side by side for a while – notice your rhythms of walking, the sense of leading/following/coming into synchronicity.
- Repeat this one more time.
SCORE 6
NAME/OUTLINE: Paired writing on benches
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 1 HOUR
(3 rounds of practice – 15 min writing, then each reading before changing pairs)
PART A: Writing and reading in pairs.
1
* Come to sit on a bench alongside another writer.
* Write for 15 minutes in relation to the prompts: Attend to what happens. “Me” as something that is also happening. “I let myself happen”.
* After 15 minutes, each take time to read your text to the other. The listener might wish to look ahead (rather than directly at the reader), looking at and witnessing the situation. Consider the resonance/commonalities with your own writing (moments of connection and shared observation) as well as the differences. As you are listening, also notice the difference between ‘then’ and ‘now’.
SCORE 2
NAME/OUTLINE: – Swapping Places/Changing Perspectives
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 15 minutes
* Find a place to write at the edge of the space, looking in. Write for 5 minutes in relation to the writing prompt: Attend/observe with all of your senses. What is noticed? What is observed?
* After 5 minutes, swap positions with another writer, enabling you to write from the perspective of their position in space. Write for 5 minutes in relation to the same prompt as before.
* After 5 minutes, swap positions with another writer, enabling you to write from the perspective of their position in space. Write for 5 minutes in relation to the same prompt as before.
INTERVAL: Take time to walk towards the bandstand in silence – again, noticing/observing your surroundings with all of your senses, awareness towards the other writers, a sense of oneself as part of a wider collective (5 mins)
SCORE 4
NAME/OUTLINE: 360 Degrees in pairs.
LOCATION: within a defined section of the space
DURATION: 30 minutes
In pairs, back-to-back (does not need to be touching)
FOCUS OF THE WRITING: Attending to the range of near and far – observing the furthest distance and closest proximity. Movement of attention from close to the body (even inside one’s own body/thoughts) to external world. Attending to 180 degrees/ Single words & short phrases.
Part 1: WRITING: 10 mins writing what is observed 180 degrees (single words and short phrases)
Part 2: READING: Alternating reading to each other what they have written – e.g. one person reads a line, then the other etc. until you have read the full text.
Part 3: WRITING: 10 mins writing what is observed 180 degrees (single words and short phrases) but beginning from the last observation you have just heard from your partner.
Part 4: READING: Alternating reading to each other what they have written – e.g. one person reads a line, then the other etc. until you have read the full text
score 3 part 1
what escapes, what resists
3x10min
slips away from my writing
what happened already happened when i chose to write about it
but are their other than time issues?
the place
us in a space, in a designated area for doing this score
attending to what
escapes
might be to
in the writing
but
i cannot remember aah yes
i am silent my voice is not present
being quiet
extending from that silence
score 3 part 2
(first reading my last line to another writer)
what prompted you to give (my line to C)
first thought is don’t know
because it is not happening now, i mean, the giving
giving to the moment
or hold back
a whisper
a ssh or a sunnn m
ringtone brings me back, then fast music, and a bodily response
how are choices made, loudest, fastest, smallest, biggest
score 3 part 3
starting with the sentence of L reverberating
I don´t mean as what is the point of living, but as in prooving our (mind) existence, and to whom.
what can i prove in the moment of escape
and to who, you?
am standing back to all writers
but they are still visible, palpable
away
in front of me is the volcano
it is magnificent
smoke arising
if i turn my back
two parkbenches with writers and writers sitting on roots of trees
by turning 180° shifting attention
score 6, 3x10min
paired writing 12.20
me as something that is happening, i let myself happen
with what do i happen
the sounds of explosions, bangs
happening as bursting
happening as gliding
with the sound of the fountain
smaller and bigger movements
twitches
hand on notebook
the feed of impulses, i find myself there
happen but
in the shadow, cooler circumstances
the largest dog of the square with heavy steps
score 2
10.35, 3 x 5 min Zocaló San Pedro
Score swapping places, changing perspectives
torilla on jo kuuma ja hakeudun varjoon
ei pilviä
hassu kapeneva kartion muotoinen puu kaupungintalon takana
pulu liitelee alas kirkontornista
står på platsen där L satt
fortfarande i skuggan i mitten på långsidan mot parken
det är svalt i skuggan
musik som inte lyfter
ett öppet torg
peppad för dagen
vinden lyfter häftet sidor
kunde inte lokalisera alla skribenter för att byta plats med någon så nu är jag bredvid A
lyktstolpe och skribent mot stolpen M
2 vertikala figurer, 4 sittande skribenter
skuggan på denna sidan torget är inte lika sval
on the pathway on a bench facing the marketstall very close to us
i see you writing and maybe i continue that
to follow
cannot read your text, there is something in your writing tempo that is appealing, and how you look into your book
i write, look downwards, see feet passing
and think about all the cellular happenings in my body
my contours
porosity
are there presences that guide the happening?
a talisman on the rear wall of the market stall
you moved, i moved
that is funny
this writing of mine is turning into a conversation
stroking my forehead, tickling hair
attention goes
to a vendor chasing flies with a stick with bits of rope attached at the end
incense vendor looked at me, and i happened
Zócalo de San Pedro Cholula
Paired writing on benches
1
The sun’s heat creates a strong sense of my own skin. I am not sure I usually feel this edge of ‘me’. Do I feel my own skin from the skin, as skin? Do I feel my skin only when it is touched – by the breeze, by another, now by the heat of the sun?
Parts of my skin feel the heat more than others – is it that I have a stronger boundary edge in different parts of my body, more of a border between self and world?
Face as threshold.
The sun burning on my face.
And the sound of bangs.
The bangs jolt me like sudden wake-ups.
You turn over your pen in your fingers – and turn from the sun creating your own shade.
We have written together before and this time it feels I can ease into it.
I hear your breath – it is only the exhalation that I can hear.
At times, intermingling with the sound of bangs.
We turn our pages at the same time.
The burning on my lower arm.
The direction of the sunlight causes me to look away – to the cool of the fountain, and the shade.
I feel myself pulled out of the score for a moment.
How does this feel – to feel myself losing the score, and then to come back like a reset?
Like remaking a commitment or a vow.
I watch the sun change the colour of my skin.
And the line of shade that your make on my body.
Shadow of your body on my arm.
Insistent bangs, flags flutter.
The sun’s rays intervene in our writing – I lose your shade.
My whole arm now burns in the sun.
I see only your back. I cannot see your writing.
We observe the world at angles.
2.
You begin to write, I see the movement of your hand.
It is taking time to settle, for this process of writing to begin again.
To begin from now.
My breath feels high in my body.
A whistle sounds behind our backs
My thinking feels far from the page.
How can I drop into it – it: the page or my thinking or both, are they the same?
I take a breath.
Breather, a breather.
A pause – to take a breather.
A lizard emerges from the base of the tree.
To just breathe … and to notice from here.
The movements of that child’s hands.
Tremble of flesh under white cloth.
Shaded eyes.
Over there, the person thinking what to write.
Wishing that the breeze that moves the leaves where a little closer to the ground.
The breeze feels skyward – less tangible here at the level of the floor.
To notice the direction of the breeze – without the clouds to guide me.
I feel a gradual slowing in the writing and with that a sense of dropping into my body.
Awareness falling from my throat – lower, maybe even to my hand resting and then writing on the page.
My breath feels high when I am trying – to follow this signal of the breath, and know better when to ease off.
To pause without leaving the score.
Not to search too hard for words – not to squirrel writing.
To pause, without that throwing me out of the attention.
My leg burns – the movement in the space has lulled.
I am losing the score.
Your pages flutter, leaves blow across the floor.
Zócalo de San Pedro Cholula, 10.30
Swapping Places/Changing Perspectives
I
From sitting on the base of the statue in the Zócalo
To find the shade in the centre.
The shade enables me to feel a little hidden.
If only from the sun.
From the centre, it is the criss-crossing that become more visible.
Persons on bikes, with trolleys, with a blue water bottle, an orange bag. You both with your notebooks.
Rumble of a passing car.
Music to my left.
The shadow cuts my page in half.
The grass is scorched in places.
Graffiti marks the lowest step.
Greetings.
Sway of arms, and a fast walking pace.
Music refrains.
Someone on the phone – speaks into her hand.
II
I am now leaning against the lamppost by the church.
The lamppost is warm against my back and the sun on my left cheek.
The sound of loud bangs in the distance behind me.
The music now sounds from the right.
One is unmoored.
The heat dominates my sensorial awareness.
I crouch to the ground, as if to create my own shade.
A silver washer on the floor, gleams in the sun.
People shield their heads with bags, hats, arms, or stick to the shade.
The paving stones on the square are huge – in places marked by indentations, stains, the marks left by a turning bike wheel, a splash of paint, gum, a footprint.
To soften into the sun – it is a short duration, the sun feels strong yet tolerable for some minutes more. Still, I wish for your shade.
The sky is unflinching blue.
Flecks of confetti trapped in the cracks from earlier celebrations.
Many pairs.
Some side by side, at other times one a little ahead. Leading?
III
I move to the shade by the hedge.
The flags flutter as shadows on the floor.
I am struck by our diagramming of attention.
The bell chimes.
I am finding it hard to hold my attention.
Again, I come to crouch.
Crouching pronounces the movement of my head in the act of writing: looking towards the page and looking up towards the world.
To focus only on one thing – the flutter of the flags as shadows.
Yet other things call.
A bird chirps behind me.
The sense of ‘knowing’ how it feels to be in the others spot.
Not so much (or not only) coming into another’s perspective, as another coming nto one I have just left.
And its heat which I still feel on my skin.
The lack of shelter from the sun.
Here I feel a slight breeze.
We catch each other’s eye.
You sheltering from the sun with your notebook.
The feeling of anticipation of the next score.
Zócalo de San Pedro Cholula
In the green space by the benches
SAY IT AGAIN, what resists.
I
I cannot understand what they are saying as they talk on their phones.
I cannot tell if they speak to one another or to someone else, someone elsewhere.
Documentation – at attempt to hold onto what happens.
The shadow of that insect on the floor.
Shadows escaping the solidity of things, of form.
Movement escaping form.
The water endlessly arcing.
Cigarette smoke is taken inside the body, and then breathed back out – intermingling of smoke and breath. Like the intermingling of smoke and cloud in the distance.
I can witness just a fraction of all these lives yet cannot know of what life lies beyond.
It seems like we are icebergs, I can only see the tip, not the dark mass beneath the surface.
The multisensorial dimension of being here – it is like I can only every focus on a slice of what is happening. The rest I cannot know.
Knowing or seeing or witnessing.
Even when I can see I still do not know.
What things escape my knowing?
Like why that person suddenly runs?
Or who they speak to on the phone?
Or what holds the two walking in relation?
Or what you are carrying in those three large bags?
Or what you are writing?
Or why you decided to cross your legs?
Or what is in your pocket?
Or why you rest your bike so near?
Or what your hand gesture really says?
Or how it feels for you in the sun?
Or what you say silently whilst moving your mouth?
Or why you choose that place to sit?
Or what you just delivered, now that your trolley lies empty?
Or if you noticed the falling leaf too?
Or the sound of the bangs?
Or what prompted you to give?
II
Las palabras escaper (words escape)
All around, conversations take place.
All these words, born into air, into relation.
Passing … passing … passing.
Not words that really stay, that remain.
All these words of exchange escaping, disappearing in the air – like smoke.
Words as vapour.
Endlessly disappearing.
Yet some words still stick around.
Some words persist.
Some words stay with, linger.
Like when you try to learn a new word.
Repeating it over and over.
Or a person’s name
In time, it sticks.
Or to re-speak the words that another said, how they said them, again and again, played over.
Words escape me.
I am lost for words.
A speech act of indignation or of surprise.
Words leak and seep and sometimes splinter.
Do words escape like the smoke from the volcan that I now see in the distance?
Words escape me – I cannot find the right word.
How is finding the right word in my own language, different from finding the right words in another’s, or in a language that I am not fluent in, or in a language that I do not understand?
Words escape.
Words e scape.
Words es cape.
Word-scape.
Escaping words.
Resisting words.
Resistance and escape.
Words resist.
Words as resistance.
Words as escape.
Escaping into words.
Escaping as resistance.
The resistance of words.
Resistance – to take a stand against or else to refuse to give.
Giving and resisting.
Giving as resistance.
The give of words.
The smoke in the distance.
All these escaping words.
Vapours, breaths.
Words of disappearance.
Does speech disappear faster than the written word?
No, some spoken words can stay around for the whole of one’s life.
Indelible.
Indelible.
Some words endure, indelible.
Silence.
Silence escapes words.
Cessation of sounding.
The silence between words.
What escapes in the silence?
What escapes into silence?
III
Streifen auf de hose, bachilerato san andre [stripes on the trousers, students from San Andre]
The call of stripes – on the arm (black and white); on the market stall (orange, pink, burgundy), on your scarf (blue, white). The welcome of the lightness of this game of ‘spotting’, of searching for lines. Red and white on the church façade. Or on the metal shutter.
The rails make shadowed stripes against the wall.
I cannot sustain it.
My attention is drawn to other forms – checks, grids, frames, folds, arcs, sounds.
The hoverfly close by.
The sandy floor.
What escapes?
Uniformity – the stripes bring me here.
What is uniform?
Uni-form.
Of one form.
Uniformity.
Homogeneity.
Uniform – a quality of consistency.
What escapes this consistency?
Inconsistencies.
Is the weave the consistence?
Is the rip the inconsistence?
Consistence as uniformity.
What has been ground into collective acceptance?
Suddenly your words open me up to other thoughts.
Like a sideways wind.
Uniformity.
Monotony.
Sameness.
Equivalence.
Indistinctness.
The bells act as punctuation.
Repeating, mechanical - the same.
The arcs of water, repeating with difference.
Repeating difference, carried by each score.
360 Degrees in pairs.
11.35
I – facing towards the church/pyramid
Melody ahead.
Leaves, fallen.
Trembling, skyward.
Blue beyond.
Stripes pass.
Trailing cables.
Taste of coming Autumn.
Bike wheels roll.
A call, a call.
Feeling you against my back.
Insects hovering.
Shade draws/scores the ground.
A leaf falls left.
Walking into frame.
Cables cut the sky.
Trees lean in towards.
Pause of fountain.
Breather.
Bird’s nests, high.
Water tanks against sky.
Gleams of metal.
Many hats.
Edge of shade.
Falling leaves.
A tired child, carried.
Feeling of breeze.
The fountain pauses.
And begins again.
Resting.
Slowing.
The movement of particles on the surface of my eyes.
II - facing towards the Zócalo.
A leaf hanging by a thread.
A family gathers.
Spiralling leaves to ground.
Masts instead of mountain.
Large basket, mint-coloured hat.
Four pass and yawn.
Faint touch of bodies.
Open sky here.
Above the canopies, canopies.
Outlet.
Liquidacion.
An offer.
Flags between the leaves.
The sound is all pervasive.
All around.
The fountain.
Temperatures change, the sound persists.
Holding.
A flag’s shadow.
Laughter, hidden from view.
Water sounding, beyond my peripheral vision.
[I am mixing my senses]
Feet coming into frame and leave.
The line of shadow.
Coming towards.
Pause.
Yellowing leaves.
A yellow butterfly.
Just blue and blue.
Quiet (for a moment).
Listening is not 180 degrees.
REFLECTION
The being-together of writing-together and the being-together of reading-together have a different texture.
Something emerges between own spoken voices.
Not like when I read to you, but when we read together.
Like reading aerates the writing.
Like it opens a different world.
Like I am not I.
Like the writing is not of I.
Like the writing can be just writing intermingling with other writing.
Not I’s – just writing.
To be a language-body.
To be the writing (of the body), and the flesh of body, free of my identity-self.
A new world opens when our writing intermingles.
Sense cracks and reassembles in unexpected ways.
The writing needs to be punctuated by breathing, by reading – inhaling, exhaling.
Writing like inhaling.
Reading like exhaling.
A specific mode of reading.
Not reading to.
But reading together, to-gether, to-gather, to garner a different sense.
Con-vocation.
Observar con todos los sentidos
10:30
Zócalo San Pedro, Cholula
11 noviembre
Croquis de la plaza especificando con puntos los lugares en los que se posicionó cada una. Excepto por E, no pude encontrar a E.
10:35
Croquis de la plaza especificando con puntos los lugares en los que se posicionó cada una. Cambio de lugar, cada quien eligió un lugar predominado por la anterior, excepto por G, ella se posicionó en otro lugar fuera de los establecidos.
10:40
Croquis de la plaza especificando con puntos los lugares en los que se posicionó cada una. Dos estuvieron en el mismo lugar.
Overlapping- me agradó esa palabra
Escuché tantas cosas, pensamientos, puntos de vista tan interesantes, muchos simultáneamente (overlapping).
Creo que ninguno fue tan significativo si en este momento no lo recuerdo, al menos no en detalle. Excepto por la palabra, que, a decir verdad, ya conocía, pero me gustó.
Y el hecho de que nadie se cuestionó el ser/estar, a parte de mí. ¿Será que no lo necesitan o que ya se lo cuestionaron?
What scapes
What resists
What is left out
11:49
Zócalo San Pedro Cholula
11 noviembre
Estoy perdida. ¿Escapar de qué? ¿Del tiempo? ¿Del espacio? ¿Literalmente, como si alguien escapara? O, ¿más como una paloma escapa de mí? (Aquí sí sucedería).
¿Y qué resiste? ¿Resiste qué? Tal vez al yo resistirme a escribir lo que veo, y quedarme con estas preguntas.
¿Qué resiste? El árbol; estoy sentada bajo él y no pasa nada, no se cae.
What is left out? ¿De qué? Todo se deja ir. ¿Acaso yo no pertenezco?
¿Qué es pertenecer? Porque pertenecemos a muchos lugares, legalmente, socialmente, geográficamente… pero, ¿el sentido? ¿El serlo?
Sentido de pertenencia = relativo
Aquí pertenezco, pero me siento perdida. [ No del todo a ninguno ].
G: “whats on the other side of the, of the, of the…”
What’s on the other side of the my head?
[ la pared detrás de mí no existe.]
The theory of the wall behind me doesn’t exist. It's because, as I understand it, you can never be sure it actually exists. If I (you) turn around, I’ll see the tree I’m sitting on. I’m 99% sure of it. I did, it’s the tree.
But I turned my head; the back of my head it’s still unknown.
What if I’m making all this up? All this; meaning the world as I know it. How can I be sure anything exists?
I exist?
I exist.
I’m nowhere and everywhere. We -humans- have invented all sorts of things to prove we exist, but if they don't exist because I don’t exist, what’s the point?
And I don’t mean “what's the point in living”, but as in proving our (my) existence, and to whom?
[ la pared detrás de mí no existe.]
D: “Or what is this warmth of your body that makes me surrender.”
Or what is this warmth of your body that makes me surrender?
I still don’t believe the power you hold against me.
I am yours; my body and my soul scream your name.
If my existence isn’t real, you still have me bewitched.
How can you hold so much, have so many dark and lost parts, and still look so beautiful?
If you are not real, please be real to me.
I will, in fact, love and cherish you, but please, my love, be real.
Be real to me.
I
Helping us move through space.
Periferia
Te siento, lo que significa que eres real.
Tu sombra se ve más pequeña que la mía (yo soy mucho más pequeña)
My side looks ordinary (what’s ordinary?)
I don’t feel you anymore. Are you real?
Las personas que pasan, si no las toco, ¿cómo serían reales?
La música es agradable
Se siente el viento
¿Por qué mi sentido de la vista es el único saque me cuestiono si es real, o el que más lo hace?
Si te siento (tacto) ya es prueba suficiente. (No estoy segura si es afirmación o pregunta.)
II
La romántica de los basureros
Müllermeyer Romantic
MÜLLERMER ROMANTIC, lo romántico de los basureros en Alemán, creo.
Porque algo con funcionalidad práctica tiene que ser feo?
¿Tu lo eres?
(Su enfoque estético fue encontrar la belleza o valor en eso.)
La la la … -música- la la la laaaaaa…
Los postes tienen diseño. Las bancas igual.
¿Qué hecho por el humano no?
Diferentes gustos.
La vida no es práctica (it’s okay to romanticize your life sometimes)
El sol pega, calienta, quema
She (D) wrote really lovely, almost like a poem.
If she’s letting herself happen, it’s very different from how I try to understand.
Maybe it’s not about understanding. It literally says, “I let myself happen”.
How can I let myself if I’m trying to find out how?
It’s contradictory. How ironic
I feel the breeze, I can see what I’m writing, how I’m writing and my surroundings.
She’s (G) on the same bench as me. I hear the water of the fountain.
I’m we are in the shadow of the tree. I don’t feel hot anymore. I’m calm, there’s no hurry, no pilot mode. I just am
How easy it is to do it. And how hard it is to try it.
I let myself happen
Ser/estar
Siempre estamos, ¿por qué casi no lo sentimos?
¿Qué es estar?
If I don’t let myself happen, what will happen?
It’s either I die, or I simply disconnect, dissociate
What makes me feel here? Happening?
Overstimulating
The feeling of being present (body and mind)
Am I letting myself happen?
Despersonalización
¿Cambia el ser/estar con personas? ¿Es más fácil o difícil?
¿Cambias por el ambiente, el momento o el día? ¿Por qué tendría que cambiar?
Dejas de ser o estar por un lugar, una fecha o un tiempo establecido?
¿Te das cuenta? (Se siente en el cuerpo)
ESTOY acompañada/invadida/presente
Pero, lo estoy? (No estoy segura si fue pregunta o afirmación)
¿Ser es existir?
11 de Noviembre 2024
10:50am (church clock wise)
Soleado con cielo azul
There is an otherness. There are othernesses that surround my body and which language fades in an attempt to bring them forward.
Si me quedo mirando sin ver toda la imagen se vuelve una e indistinguible.
Tiempo. I cannot describe time.
“words.. don’t come easy to me”.
Las palabras escapan.
¿Las palabras escapan con el tiempo?
Las palabras escpaan.
11 de Noviembre 2024
11:05
Lore:
Sentido de pertenencia igual relativo. Aquí pertenezco pero me siento perdida. (no del todo a ninguno).
belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging. belonging.
running. running. running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.running. running.
staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying. staying.
being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being. being.
May:
Vi el mar y pensé: soy las olas justo antes de reventar.
11:25
being. being. being without being and always being. being a whole and a part. being apart. waiting. esperando esperanza.
The wave and the stream.
The wave and the fountain.
The movement of the water being a stream, a squirt or a wave also being some being before being.
The wave of things.
Do all waves have a breaking point?
11 de Noviembre 2024
10:31am
Soleado, cielo azul, algo de nubes definidas sobre el horizonte.
Algo de fumarola en el volcán
Veo. I see. Ven. They see.
What is in between the ¿veo y ven? ¿qué hay entre el I see and they see?
El lugar. El piso. Las cosas que salen del piso.
Una persona está sentada escribiendo. Escribe y alza la cabeza. Gira la cabeza y ve alrededor.
Otra persona está en cuclillas, escribe.
11 de Noviembre 2024
10:36am
Soleado, cielo azul.
No se ven ninguna nube desde este punto.
Sonido y música. Eso es todo lo que hay cuando la percepción toma el rumbo. Invade. Toma. Después la mirada busca un momento lejano a la invasión del sonido y descansar los ojos en la arboleda de enfrente.
La actitud hacia el sonido cambia con la música.
Hay una lucha entre mi cabeza que se va y viene.
Entre lo imaginario y la presencia.
11 de Noviembre 2024
10:xx (10:45am anuncia el reloj de la iglesia)
Soleado, con cielo azul.
Cerca del piso. Bajo el sol. Las piernas de las personas pasan caminando.
Los negocios se preparan para la llegada de las personas.
Hay un ritmo lento.
Encuentros en la plaza con lo que se ha quedado en el piso.
11 de Noviembre 2024
11:35am
360/180 degrees
La panza gruñe.
Un coche en movimiento se encuentra tocando una grabación ininteligible.
No sé dónde está.
Una persona tiene un camuflaje de sombras.
(la mirada va de los pies a la punta de la iglesia)
Mirada
Pies
Fuente
Iglesia
Reloj
Campana
Campana
Cúpula
Cruz
Pararrayos
Líneas rojas y blancas
La rueda rueda
Balcón y cielo
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
Ventana
11 de Noviembre 2024
11:45am
Swap 360/180 degrees
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón, cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón, cinturón, cinturón,
cinturón
Bolsas
Flores
2 - 100 pesos
50 pesos
cuerda alrededor del árbol
caminar/andar en vaivén
10 pesos
10 pesos
Puerta o portal
Follaje verde de arbustos
Tronco
Carpa
Coche
Perro
Perro
Bastón
Basta bastón
Rueda cuádruple
M
5
Farola
Hojas amarillas
Hojas secas
Cuadricula con pasto y tierra
Bostezo
I feel this river flow through me.
Please carry away
кувшинки
обломки
крыльцо
цепь канала
Let me dissolve the membrane. Pour out of this form. Spread out, slime mould. Pulsate with my tissues. Shed, shed, shed. Please, help me shed, pull it. But you cannot anticipate the circle. But you cannot anticipate the cycle.
waiting patiently for the month to end
for your plane to land.
Swapping Places/Changing Perspectives
This shadow is so thin, it doesn't cover my body with relief, just marks the possibility. I'm thirsty. I want to sit down. She said she was sat in the bar. I wanted to be the one she noticed entering. I didn't sleep at all. I'm tired. But we are an ocean apart, so I guess...
The scent of lavender. I see people moving. I'm not. I see people moving. What are they writing about? Why couldn't I sleep tonight? The trees, the same view, a different state. I surrender to this moment in this particular November, on this particular continent. The membrane, the membrane, the membrane is dissolving.
What resists?
What resists? the distance the stance the verse What is left out? My muscles aching. I try to be so brave, to face those distant schemes falling apart. But my muscles ache, and I want a hot chocolate. It is one block away. I'll pick one with orange flavour. It's my favourite. Gestures and bells. I want them to be more present. Less memory. More deep green. I looked at a tree and thought:
I am that root that comes out
but still is a part of it
Writing with another one’s sentence 1
"Sich verheddern in der Anleitung"
Winter, the snow is thick, I am late. I could have. The channel is frozen. The metro station. The Baltic Sea. The sense of belonging doesn’t matter any more. I belong to this body, to its tissues and cells, the molecules. So why couldn’t I sleep tonight?
What is this warmth of your body that makes me surrender?
Writing with another one’s sentence 2
"What escapes in the silence, what escapes into silence"
I noticed me being me in the silence, in the garden. You held the silence with me, it was embroidering. Leaves, yellow leaves, this autumn in the periphery. The foliage, shed, shed. The skin, shed, shed. The memories, transform, the spring. The springs always nurture the river. The river doesn’t stop. This sensation is a river. I feel the bones. I feel the structures of I am, you are, she is not here. How can I, how can I dissolve the membrane. Dance.
SCORE 3
Writing with another one’s sentence 3
ventana
ventana
ventana
ventana
ventana
Ruminating
the loop
Is it different?
the circle
of/ to
the circle
shed
shed
dissolve
dissolve
the church is a white cloud
Everything
reminds me of
you
in the silence
into silence
I broke the silence
The church bells chime
Butterfly
I’m tired
Reach out and
smooth
I am
you are
she is not
Here
stillness
keep moving
Dance
Dance more.
Dance, you did it
you used to do it
Dance into the scent of lavender
SCORE 4: 360° degrees in pairs
focus: attending to the range of near and far
oberserving the furthest distance
and closest proximity
I
the shadow of my writing hand
abgekaute daumenhaut
notizbuch umriss
gelbes blatt
a person at the edge
two legs standing
kopf geköpft
kopf steht jetzt auf
avenida, fila
raya de
allee
al final de la avenenida
buden, kirche
la capacidad de la música de teñir todo
"palabras que me llenan de dolor"
die schreiberin kann nichts dafür
ist so geschehen
das croissant deckelt den hunger nur schlecht
zwei mülleimer im öffentlichen raum:
gusseissern, grün, art deco style
ROMANTIK DER MÜLLEIMER
II
"Se sienta (tacto) ya es prueba suficiente
(not estoy segura) si es afirmación o pregunta"
if it feels (tactile sense) it’s evidence enough
(i am not sure) if its affirmation or question
i’m taking up your view and i wish i could
touch what i see. i see the volcano
for the first time. "la la la la"
hay una nube alrededor de la cima
un hálito
el volcán tiene su tiempo, sus temporadas privadas
do you, did you, no, you have not mentioned it
what is breathtaking for me is your normal
"tu normal es asombroso"
SCORE 6: Attend to what happens, me happening
'I let myself happen’
You lean forward.
Die Sonne brennt auf meine linke Wange. Am I your parasol?
I’m feeling useful, para sol = for the sun
i was definetively not made for the sun
did you just feel those tiny, microscopic drops
from the fountain wie die bizzeln auf der haut?
i let them land on my hands
así
no puedo hacer nada en contra
para para que se paren
me gusta oir los truenos desde lejos
oír lo lejo
mi mente está comparando los truenos gordos con este…
este…
con esas gotitas
si no paro de prestar mi mejilla izquierda se me
my me is going to quemar
Me has made itself a little hut from her jeansjacket
a mi lado, en par, par en par
voltando la página
«los números están revueltitos», me dijo
la señora de la tienda cuando intentaba introducir
el código secreto
qué es lo que escribes tu cuando mueves
tu este….
este…
bolígrafo
el hecho de que algo se mueve es prueba
suficiente que
tu bolígrafo que se mueve
November, 11
San Pedro Cholula, Zócalo and adjacent park
Score: Swapping Places/Changing Perspectives
SCORE 2 with a defined section of the space. Find a place to write at the edge
of the space, looking in. Prompt: Attend/observe with all of your senses. What
is noticed? What is observed.
Position 1
I’m writing from below the arcades. I chose this place because of the shade but now
I do not feel part of the place any more. Out there: Too much sun, too much light.
The square reminds me of a grill.
Eine Taube fliegt halb hoch und landet. Musik plätschert von links und rechts.
Durchgangsort: Eine Person mit Brustgeschirr läuft vorbei. Ein Sonnenschirmständer
wird rausgezogen. Ich zieh Linien zwischen den Schreiberinnen auf dem Platz.
Jetzt wird der Sonnenschirm aufgeklappt.
Position 2
Escribir desde Mayra. Muchos saludos desde Mayra. I'm out in the open now,
crouching by the fountain. I wish I had her hat, a light pink fluffy hat with a large
sunshade on the back. What has she been watching, it is as if this place
was still beschattet von vorher. Sich aus jemandes Schatten rausschreiben.
Feuerwerk von fern.
Una persona con botella de agua pasa. La música sigue.
Una radio dicharachera. I now have spottet a writer in my back.
Eine Person läuft vorüber, einseitig einknickender Lauf.
The place now reminds me of a beach with hot sand. You have to walk faster
because the hot sand hurts your feet. "Cocoo".
Position 3
What a relief to be back in the shade. I can hear the same music, but from much
further away. It does not bother me here. There is a breeze. I see a writer who has
now taken my former position. Now I know how she feels. Do I? I remember more
how I felt. How exposed I felt in that position. The yellow socks match the hedge
around the fountain. Now I can see everyone, all other writers. It's as if the lightness
of the shade lets me look around.
Pflanzen-Zick-Zackschatten am Rand
Three writers are standing, two, including myself, are sitting. One I cannot see.
SCORE 3: SAY IT AGAIN
Part 1: Prompt: What resists, what is left out
My language is made of entities like fountain, leaves, earphones, tröpfeln, Arme,
Springbunnen. It is made of all that what that cannot, all that is inbetween. Come and
measure the space between the commas. What is left out in this list is the feeling I
have from within. How this all is. How it all sounds, rounds, does. Was fehlst ist wie
die Zunge im Gaumen liegt, wo das Knie steht, wie der linke Arm sich aufstützt.
Alles das, auch das Notizbuch, wurde ausgelassen.
Die Gedanken, die kommen und gehen.
La matanza de Cholula.
Stillstand, Widerstand
Die Leine der Verabredung, die mich an diesen Platz bindet.
Rückkopplung an den Score.
Jetzt schreib ich’s ja doch auf.
Hör auf. Das Gefühl des rechten Sonnenbrillenbügels hinterm Ohr.
Das Paar, das laut redet, gestikuliert.
Was ich seh, was ich beschreib, ist nicht was Du hören kannst.
(Du ist, bist ungendered, immerhin.)
Ich schreib widerwillig, zähl alles auf was kommt, für wen für was.
Schmetterlingsflug. Zu kurz, zu voll, sich selbst.
Zu schön und vorbei.
Unsere Füsse stehen auf Rasengittersteinen, auf dunkelgrauen Riegeln, die ein
Musster aus Doppelkreuzen bilden. Dazwischen wächst Gras.
Sich verheddern in der Anleitung.
Part 2: Writing beginning with the other’s last sentence.
Can I extend the silence?
Can I extend the silence? Kann ich die Stille erweitern? Puedo estrechar al silencio?
¿Qué silencio? Donde estoy suena la bocina. Der Junge neben mir auf der Bank ist
in sein Telefon vertieft. Mir kommt das Schweigen in den Sinn, das zwischen uns
liegt. This silence is just silence against an imagined ( ). How to continue. I’m
wondering what is going on in you, them. How it would be like to be him, them, her.
Whatever pronouns us. Each of us are surrounded by specific forms of silences. The
vendor in front of me está ensismismada.
ENSISMISMADA
Su silencio. Una palabra se extiende hacia otra. Me tienta escribir que vende
ensaimadas. But this is not what can be touched on the table I see in front of me.
Ensaimada is a word, a rhyme that came to me. The nature of this score generates a
resistance me to let myself go and write about ensaimadas. La persona en frente me
vende pastelería que resiste en presentarse de forma nombrable. DAS
SCHWEIGEN DER BACKWAREN
Der Junge, der junge Mensch – verzeihen Sie bitte die Entgleisung in Richtung eines
vermuteten Geschlechts – tippt und wippt mit seinem Knie. Er lächelt einem
Menschen hinter dem Text zu. Knieekippen, das Lächeltippen. Streifen auf der Hose
and BACHILLERATO SAN ANDRES
III
Writing beginning with the other’s last sentence.
"being", written 14 times
beig, being, being, beig,
being, beiug, beiug, being
being, being, being, being,
being, being
disclaimer: the handwritten beings can’t be transcribed. can’t transgrasp. you’d have
to see my notebook. some of the n’s have been eaten up. also other letters appear
transformed.
a little mobile cart in form of a house: TOUR CEVECERO
Thought of a name
MARTIN HEIDEGGER
while eating an inflated croissant
bought at one of the small stands
The hand moves into the paper bag
as if it were forbidden.
DER GERUCHSGESCHMACK NACH HEFE
this fountain does not care if i describe its
bling bliug big
in the middle there’s a SPRINKELSPARKLE
high up and alone
now suddenly it’s been joined by five smaller ones
forming a circle
i keep on eating secretely
zupfe weisses fleisch aus dem croissant
what i resist is pathos, the pathos of meaning
der pause danach, das raunen der philosophie
der texte, die mehr wollen
i feel and fight a style of writing feeling
something in me resists
i still don’t quite know what is it
where it come from
bleib beim mdf!
don’t heidegger
perhaps it’s the expectation of the expection
of this writing, its form
ask yourself and spell it out sometime
ERWARTUNGSERWARTUNG
mach’s nicht gut!
bleib hier
en frente de la panadería.
i pull back. todavía retengo tu frase.
el simple hecho de estar sentado a tu lado me pone en contacto con esta frase.
could i stretch the silence? not write?
don’t talk, hush, you did not say that but made a gesture with your hand.
music is bubbling. the sound of firecrackers carries deep distand lands.
do i smell musk because i smell musk
or because i have just looked up.
i see the vendor ordenando cajas de incenso.
she is slapping dust.
could i stretch into dust?
slap dust
dap dusk
i see your feet and i feel my throat.
i lean back.
do you relax me.
i bet yes, there is no need to hop onto each of those sensations.
we’re being transited.
me enjoys being. i hop on:
eating strawberry ice cream
ordenando cajas
paseando
onto the frase of someone
alguien dice: "hace años que no paso por aquí"
Score II: Write in relation to what escapes, what resists description, what is left out?
Lugar I
What she is thinking while pulling her daughter’s hand while crossing the street. What he is thinking while folding his arm to let his wife hold from him while they are walking. What the water thinks about they rhythm in which it has been programmed to fall for a while on the surface surrounding the fountain’s center and then not falling down on top of that surface and needing to alternate that way for all day long or until someone turns its program off for the night. What it feels to be a red and white stripe of flags. Who turns the fountain on and off? What the guy on his bike thinks while sneaking into one of this performance’s writer’s notebook. Where the ashes of the fireworks fall? How many hours of the day is that beggar there? What’s on the other side of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the… the strain on the muscles of that yellow bike’s cycler?
Lugar II (Departing from someone else’s last line)
Line: I looked at the tree and thought, I am the truth that comes out but still is a part of it.
I looked at the sky and thought, I am the blue that goes in and is not a part of it.
I looked at the sun and thought, I am the shadow that sees nothing and still looks up to be blind.
I looked at the nest and thought, I am the excrement of millennia and still a compound.
I looked at the kid and thought, I am a vision that marches and points to the truth, which is still a part of it.
I looked at the ground and thought, I am the light that comes through the shade of branches.
I looked at the bird and thought, I am this bird on the ledge of a church contemplating destiny and holding on time pompously.
I looked at the writer and thought, I am the movement of their pen.
Vi el mar y pensé, soy las olas justo antes de reventar.
Lugar III: (Departing from someone else’s last line)
Line: It is like you go with the loudest one, the one that is striking or
The one that is pounding or
The one that jumps or
The one that is closer or
The one that is misplaced or
Relevant or more soundly, more there,
Calling, turbulent, squishy, atorado,
Más llamativo, o lo más caliente, doliente,
Repetitivo, o lo más cómodo,
Pero también con lo más minúsculo,
Lo más menos,
Lo que no estaba antes hasta que al fin
Del tiempo ahí está.
Con lo que APARECE.
Invitación: Sentada junto a alguien más, escribir, leer, cambiar 3 veces. Attend to what happens, “me” as something that also happens. “I let myself happen”.
Lugar I
What happens is an effort to remember what’s already fading away from what happened morning on my way here, which in a way, keeps happening. The plaque made of what happened in the morning. This plaque is slowly being removed from under my feet, like a rug. Substituted by the taste of chocolate that I squeezed in my mouthduring the brake. Splashed by the breeze of water that bounces from falling into the pavement, reaching small skin regions, refreshening. At moments, the sensation of the water splashes is confused with the sensation of the wind. En momentos, la sensación del agua que salpica se confunde con la sensación del viento que sopla. At moments both coincide and everything else becomes irrelevant. En momentos, el viento y el agua en contacto con mi piel, coinciden y todo lo demás se vuelve irrelevante. Yet, the morning’s plaque insists on coming back, this time cutting through me, like a plaque of aluminium, cutting through glass, though sand, through plasticine, a través de barro, a través de sustancia, de sólido, cutting through the thoat. What keeps happening, is the plaque made out of what happened in the morning. Una placa hecha de la mañana y de mañana.
Lugar II
Pasa que unes están y otres van,
Pasa que nada pasa y todo pasa,
Pasa un perrito fisgón, pero en lo suyo,
Cruza por debajo sin molestar,
Como si pasara entre dos montañas que no se moverán,
Al menos no mientras pasa.
Siempre regresa a un punto de referencia,
Su dueño, amo, cuidador, persona, acompañante,
Punto de referencia,
Va y regresa,
Va y lo busca de regreso,
En sus ir y venir de pronto se queda ahí,
En su punto-persona conocida,
Y comienza a dar vueltas más pequeñas
En un mapa más cercano a su punto.
Su punto-persona está en otra cosa, le presta atención,
Pero de modo ‘estoy en algo’.
Después se va más lejos, mucho más lejos que sus anteriores aventuras.
Lo llaman. Viene. Se van.
Queda la banca vacía y todas las líneas
Que crearon los viajes exploradores de ese
Perrito Tim.
11 November 2024
Score: Obeservar con todos los sentidos ¿qué es lo que sentimos?, ¿qué es lo que observamos?
Site I
Una luz azul que titila,
Un señor arrastra la base pesada de una sombrilla
Un hueco me llama a encajarme ahí
Un grupo de manteles amarillos se mecen con el aire
Otro señor empuja un diablito
Una llamada telefónica: “hola Martín, cómo estás?”
“como 11:30”
“claro que sí, yo le digo?
Su voz se pierde mientras continúa su trayecto
“mande?”
“no, yo no puedo ir”
“ah, perfecto”
Me pregunto por qué la escucho
“bye, bye”
Se había parado para terminar su llamada.
Site II
What is writing?
Lugar III
How is it that when we shift places
When I move, all available places
Seem to be taken away?
Perhaps I should pay better attention as
To where everyone is.
A car passes by
A Señor with a suit, a red tie,
And shoes that sound a lot,
Comes in my direction,
But passes by too,
Another car,
I don’t see it, I just hear it,
Now a woman as if following
The Señor’s trajectory,
But her shoes make no sound at all.
Mapping everyone as to not loose a spot next time we shift;
there’s no next time.
Reflexión. Lo que más te ha gustado.
Me gustaron los huecos en donde insertarme. Encajarme en huecos arquitectónicos o hechos por usos o por el paso del tiempo. Entrar ahí entre líneas y con líneas. Me gustó el pájaro que voló a la punta más alta de la iglesia, y que se postró ahí, encima, majestuosamente con el pecho medio hinchado, hinchado de qué quién sabe. Postrado como escultura, viendo hacia lo lejos, como si viera todo, como si contemplara el futuro en frente de sus ojos. Y me gustó que nuestras líneas se cruzaron cuando el agua de la fuente salpicó tus manos y distintas regiones de mi piel.
Sometimes our writing could be its own writing. Some of your lines seemed like the continuation or beginning of some of my lines and those moments made me secretly think: “oh, look at this! What is this other text that is neither yours nor mine? I want to know that text!”
SCORE 4: 360° degrees in pairs
focus: attending to the range of near and far
oberserving the furthest distance
and closest proximity
I
the shadow of my writing hand
abgekaute daumenhaut
notizbuch umriss
gelbes blatt
a person at the edge
two legs standing
kopf geköpft
kopf steht jetzt auf
avenida, fila
raya de
allee
al final de la avenenida
buden, kirche
la capacidad de la música de teñir todo
"palabras que me llenan de dolor"
die schreiberin kann nichts dafür
ist so geschehen
das croissant deckelt den hunger nur schlecht
zwei mülleimer im öffentlichen raum:
gusseissern, grün, art deco style
ROMANTIK DER MÜLLEIMER
II
"Se sienta (tacto) ya es prueba suficiente
(not estoy segura) si es afirmación o pregunta"
if it feels (tactile sense) it’s evidence enough
(i am not sure) if its affirmation or question
i’m taking up your view and i wish i could
touch what i see. i see the volcano
for the first time. "la la la la"
hay una nube alrededor de la cima
un hálito
el volcán tiene su tiempo, sus temporadas privadas
do you, did you, no, you have not mentioned it
what is breathtaking for me is your normal
"tu normal es asombroso"
Site II Shift places with the person that is back-to-back with you
Cotton blues
Living float
Groups carrying
Dragging stare
Pace on go
On the go or on the spot
Swinging behind
Touching sky
Tejados and stone
Bending throw
Smelling ground
Steps that flutter
Music changes
Branches drawings