Me, my body and...
How is my body today? I experience my body ageing. It is a beautiful understanding that my body is changing throughout my lifetime. But also throughout the day.
I was very tired this morning. My eyes were very tired. Dry. They felt dry and I've had difficulties to stay awake. The way to the S-Bahn-Station was freezing. It was a shock. Back in the S-bahn my body was again adapting to the heated cabin.
Moving. On the floor. Sensing my skin. My weight. My strength. What is a body? What informs the body?
My body. My body and me. Me, my body and the floor. The floor, me, my body and the light. The light, the floor, me, my body and my ovaries. My ovaries, the light, the floor, me, my body and the others. The others, my ovaries, the light, the floor, me, my body and my needs. My needs, the others, my ovaries, the light, the floor, me, my body and the cold. The cold, my needs, the others, my ovaries, the light, the floor, me, my body and my touch toward. My touch toward, the cold, my needs, the others, my ovaries, the light, the floor, me and my body.
I am many. My body is many cells. Which cells are taking action? My Body is many and a bit fractured. I am aware of several processes inside. What sensation can I trust? What do I long for? What touch? What kind of sensation? I am searching for a new feedback loop. Looping my cells in their sensation and formation. I feel skin, muscles, bones, toenails, shaved head and shaved legs, dry skin on the feet and a bodyfulness. You jump, you laugh, you make noises and you take your space. What belongs to you and what belongs to me? Differentiation of layers, clothes and tissues. Bodytissue made of cells. I sense my body temperature rising. I touch the floor, cold and clean. I am in a church.
What if... the atoms that create our physical appearance are in fact never really touching but instead repulsing each other?
What if... the atoms that create our physical boundaries are in fact entangled with each other, to become many rather than one?
I am many. My body is expanding. and at the same time, while I am expanding, I am dissolving. I am dissolved. My water-filled cells are exchanging their water. Water holds some inertia and movements inside of me are slower than the movements of my expanding body, limbs. I am many and there is no natural body. My body is a technology of food, clothes, environment; my body is penetrated with technology as hormones, vitamin-pills, injections, cremes, soaps and training methods. I am many and I am dissolving. While at the same time growing cells are implanted my uterus.
I like to perceive my organs not so much as entities, but as permeable structures that touch each other, influence each other, exchanging fluids and cells and electrons, atoms and molecules. What is the difference? The sensation of my skin gets amplified by my clothes. I expand. I expand colorfully and I create sounds while expanding.
What is my body? How is my body? What is mine and what is yours? Sensation. I sense your skin underneath the many layers of clothes. Skin and clothes are creating opposite tension and directions. The body is stabilizing through touch. The body is destabilizing through the contact. Several directions, multiple directions emerging in my body. Time. Space. Bodied_Space. Embody Space. So much space for needs. Needs that evolve. Needs that sit in my body.
What if... I fall asleep while you watch me dancing?
What if... I lose my orientation, get lost and don't find the way back? Will you let me know? Will you guide me the way back?
Rolling and strolling on the floor. This grey floor, always a bit dirty. This space, a basement in the centre of Neukölln. This space, always smelling a bit too much, always in need of a bit too much attention. But here I am and touching the floor is earthening me. Sounds take away the space to move. Silence is carrying my own delving in nothingness. I have a sensual percepetion of myself swimming in the ocean of silence. Silence is dense. This density bears me and my body. My strong desire for articulation is in opposition to the unkown of my physical comments.
What if... my body does not articulate themselve well.
What if... the precise articulation is in fact only a loose composition of letters that...I am lost.
I easily think I lost the track. I easily allow myself to get distracted by the fear of losing the path. The way. The right way. The right way to do. As if... I'm losing orientation. I'm dizzy and my brain seems to swing back and forth. Too much turning. Too many spins. I'm waiting for the movement to arrive, impatient. I am jumping on the first initiation, the first movement that resonates enough with my desires. I'm able to catch it, to jump on it, to grab it... I am moved. My breath supports and carries my intuition. Will I be focused enough to keep it moving? What will stop me?
Some extracts of the text are also part of the solo "Selbstgespräch"; the first solo out of a series of six.
Texts that inspired the writing:
Politics of Touch, Erin Manning
On touching- The Inhuman That Therefore I am, Karen Barad
Living a feminist life- Sarah Ahmed
Oppression and the Body- Roots, Resistance, and Resolutions; Caldwell, C. Bennett Leighton, L; Queering/Querying the Body by Rae Johnson
And the collaboration, exchange and friendship with Kaisa Kukkonen, Alisa Tretau and Kristin Horrigan