I'm spending 6 weeks working at Christchurch Cathedral in honour of giving voice to questions over Lent. This is not a coincidence. Throughout my time in my original home in Virginia, I found myself face to face with the most difficult parts of my psyche. The questions were coming too quickly and, as I have made a pact with myself to pay attention to the difficult moments in my life, I have spoken with things that I have until now not understood or wanted to address about myself.
Here are the words we use as a starting point for our questions at the Giving Voice workshop coming up on Saturday:
What questions do you need to ask?
This moment will be a time of call and response; part of the call will be external, though part will also come from within you. An internal call is an act of faith - creating space and resonance in your body to allow the question somewhere to grow.
What are the questions you cannot ask? Are there questions you can verbalise, or things that can only be sent out by your body to the Universe or to the deepest self and universe inside of you?
What are the questions you can ask? Give space to those.
Let's search for the elusive questions, knowing that the season of Lent gives us a time to reflect with full knowledge that hope is in the pipeline. Until then, we must come to rest with the difficult things that must be asked.
As time rolls forward through this malaise of decision-making that is breeding infighting and calls for new polls, new elections, I'm reflecting back political situations by landing at home in Belfast.
Yes. Belfast is home.
Despite Brexit & ensuing calls for re-polling. Despite calls for Austrian re-election.
Despite bold-decision making and doubt, I am here, checking the options, attempting to hold strong to the unplanned plan of re-planning.
Meanwhile, hold on. Despite external forces, don't be deterred from your path.
in the late morning i arrive here and make music. then i stay until late at night. this is my domain.
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.
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.