 wilkommen, as etched on plastic-plaque on approach to the the holy-site. Exhausted, I awoke to my alarm at 8am. switched it off. surprised when I only stirred again at noon. I wandered a bit, ate a petite breakfast, then took off for the farmers markets, both of which had closed up early due to: + the heavy clouds, + the stirring tempest, + the thunder, // the growing wind. I turned to look for coffee, but decided at last second to hop on the tram and ride out to Mariatrost to the famous basilica. Rain beginning to fall in its heavy first droplets as I reached the first step; a downpour blessing each of the 216 steps as I passed over them.  may i present: mariatrost This crossing of borders, this pilgrimage I am on... some say it is courage to leave all you have with no guarantee of what's next. But I had no choice; I had reached an impasse, a Moment I Could Not Ignore. And here I am: + treading paths, + ears opening, + eyes learning to see only that which is in front of me, + reading interactions between people where language fails... I am learning about intimacy and trust that develop between two strangers, between myself and the unknown. I could write for days about all I am seeing and coming to know. I'm incredibly blessed to be on this journey. How much I/we/some miss when we're locked in the trajectory of day to day problem-solving. Answers accost me now and my Seeing Eyes present themselves.  I sat inside the church - in stillness near Other-Pilgrim; I looked at the beautiful, marble columns that hold up the altar around the Holy Mother. I have this repeated fantasy/daydream/fear of being in a cathedral when it collapses - frescos falling, steeples stabbing. As I knelt there, I saw the church as human-psyche-interior/Architect Intention: the ornamentation we regale ourselves with, the relics of dead children and holy-hands, and the richness of the life unsuspected from outside.  the relics of dead children and holy-hands The speed of a dismantling varies: from slowly, carefully, gently to so quickly we barely perceive the destruction in the instant. But rebuilding is possible, though slow. And things will naturally shift and be destroyed, but it is not impossible to change that which seems stalwart.
I admit > > > I wept in gratitude. Grateful to see that my worst fear could bring the best of change to the seemingly unshakeable Self... who exists just above my Self of Self. . . I later sat in a café in Graz Innere Stadt and read this: "There is a saying that when the student is ready the teacher appears. This means the interior teacher surfaces when the soul, not the ego, is ready. This teacher comes whenever the soul calls -- and thank goodness, for the ego is never fully ready." I am [not] ready.
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in the late morning i arrive here and make music. then i stay until late at night. this is my domain.  The symbol of Austria, the mythical panther, which clearly - so clearly - embodies my nature. Much love to you, Panther!  Two things I discovered yesterday:
1. Garlic so fresh that the bulbs are tender, there is no dry skin, and when you crush it, it turns into water. As I was preparing to cook with it, I had the impulse to weep with gratitude to the farmers at the Lendplatz Market for selling it to me. 2. Eva Reiter. Schizophone: bass block flute and viola de gamba player, singer, electronic artist, and composer who has introduced me to material that I didn't even know was possible. Seeing her was life-changing. Apologies that I have no pictures. It turns out when I'm in the throes of discovering things that touch my core, I don't have the impulse to reach for the camera. I also went to a Baroque-Riccocco palace on the edge of Graz and got caught in the flow of an at-first-confusing-and-then-intensely-connected site specific collaborations between contemporary dancers and Baroque musicians. I've hand chosen these as matching together well: listen to My Sweet Lord as you read this news piece: http://www.thelocal.at/20160610/austrian-far-right-extremists-stage-a-stoning-in-asylum-lecture PS This extremist group isn't indicative of the generous people I've been meeting in Austria! When left alone at IEM... experimentation has begun. ///\\\ Looking forward to returning on Sunday! Also - I've been meeting some great people here and think despite walking up 4 flights of steps each day multiple times, I'm putting on weight from the GOODLICIOUS foods.  i seem to be cohabiting with more birds than humans these days. for example, when i decided to take my reading work up to the hill that towers over graz (schlossberg) and look down over the city:   in memory of the freedom fighters against nazism and its prey. * the city of graz
yes, how clearly we see in retrospect. i am living on the top floor of a four-storey building. when i return home through the fresh evening air, i climb stairs that slowly get narrower and narrower with each flight until i reach my door. it's just next to the door that takes you into the rundown attic and up onto the roof.
i dwell where the birds fly; i see their flight change path before joining me in my flat. i have two large views of the mountains surrounding the city and at night i hear the daily celebrators fixing their bodies after a day's work, intermingled with the beautifully deep bells ringing from gothic cathedrals. i sit on my balcony, drinking a cup of tea, or a glass of wine, or a peculiar mix of rhubarb, grape, and pickle. tonight, the old fortified hill was lit up with a saturday night party from the top of schlossberg. there once was a castle on this unnaturally high, raised hump in the middle of the city. napoleon had it dismantled brick by brick as a symbolic gesture when he conquered that height; for him, knocking it over wasn't enough. tonight the tower on that hill was lit up in multiple colours. i gazed at it for awhile, enjoying the breeze, the moment, the stillness, the knowledge that i'm in the right place. i stepped inside for a second, and when i returned, there were chimes ringing from the hill and the lights went off. midnight. time for day to go out.  i was surprised by this as i walked past...... nothing quite as scary as handbags as far as the eye can see. |
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