This https://itunes.apple.com/gb/podcast/mantis-radio/id264655442?mt=2&i=1000390267867 with this equals dizzy.
In the second week of this programme and each session has involved dealing with a sensation that can only be described as mild nausea. I remember this feeling, years ago when I ‘trained’, now its clear that for years I have only been putting effort into the things that I enjoyed. For example, hanging off and moving on small holds I like, thus I do lots of it and think I’m training. This last couple of weeks I have been doing amongst other awful exercises; ‘planks’, they are horrible, what is their to enjoy from passing from fatigue to feeling sick, heart pounding, red in the face and vibrating from head to toe, basically nothing.
Photograph taken on a lonely hitchhike somewhere North of the Arctic Circle, Norway late 1980’s.
N Wales sometime in the late 80’s,
First attempt to make charcoal
It’s difficult to describe the last few months, dislocation from previous life, removal of old context go some way to explaining my current state of mind and life. A sense of content adriftness, an alienation that is both sweet and consuming. The projects of house renovation, something I never took to seriously, stutter on, bit by bit and love has entered my life, the house is now a home.
I think about art and creativity, but find little time or inclination. I meditated on this subject as I sharpened an axe. Squat on the floor, semi dark, an incantation of sound and material, I thought of performance, I thought of ritual and I thought of all the contrived actions of that world. Today my performance is real, as the action and ritual slowly possess me. My boredom threshold is extending, as I sharpened the axe, I found myself enjoying the rhythm of steel on stone, I wasn’t impatient, I kept at it…durational.
John Berger died this week. I think of him as I walk in our wood. I look at the woodpiles I have made, the collections of twigs, the lean-to of larger branches, the cut grass, and the embers of a fire.
I stand and stare, absently, often, then I begin work again.