I begin with the forest. To sound in a place one must first listen to it, see it’s movement, the way it bends in the breeze. See and feel what touched who. The forest moves, vibrating through its whole. It’s here that I can begin to remember who I am.
New beginnings are freeing, and total free choice can become daunting, when the weight of one’s mind and expectations (cultural, capitalist, hereditary) creeps in to limit it.
In the softness of New Zealand (the light is softer here, the edges are less hard, everything is dissolving back into itself) the harshness of the internal voice, and the place that I have come from has felt more pronounced, easier to identify and work with. Here there is more space between, more green. The green emerges as a pure, almost fractally multiplied green, the green of water and of life. The air caresses, softly, and at other times buffets like a body. Softness is inherent here.
I take the memories and reflections of the elements back into myself. I read of the ether:
“The sound of the ether is self-contained, and it holds all forms and colours. It is the basis of all sounds, and is the undertone which is continuous. Its instrument is the human body, because it can be audible through it; although it is all-pervading, yet it is unheard. It manifests to [wo]man as [s]he purifies h(is)[er] body from material properties. The body can become its proper instrument when the space within is opened, when all the tubes and veins in it are free. Then the sound which exists in space becomes manifest inwardly also. Ecstasy, illumination, restfulness, fearlessness, rapture, joy and revelation are the effects of this sound.”
To free my tubes has become intention of my residency here. I have some held emotions and grief to release, echoes and shadows of that which I have already let go. I spend a long while in Te Papa sitting tucked away in a dark corners listening. I immerse myself in the fertile darkness, drawing up inspiration, dredging it into the world of light through creative expression.
I get the opportunity to perform at the Pyramid Club. Performing for me is always a chance to discover and uncover what has been simmering below. This time everything is slower, wider, vaster. Lost in overtones, shimmering in vibration, cyclic movement, immanating momentum. Distorting time, Dissolving time into the timeless. I leave lighter, many syncronicities follow.
Lost notes came back in that performance. The next day I find myself in the studio releasing them with a lament for the pain being experienced by the women in my family at present, built on long histories.
The rain comes, and water springs from everywhere. More on that and the cycling rhythm of things to come.