Water bear Water bear what do you see?

Week 1 and 2 completed.
Stories written and shared.
The writer has been writing, we (the performers) have been writing, dancing, playing, speaking...

We devising this piece, and entering a process of no return.

FEAR, STRUGGLE, RESILIENCE, SURVIVAL, DETERMINATION, EMPTINESS...

THIS IS A WATER BEAR:



These Extremophiles can survive extreme conditions.
This is beautiful.
I would like one.

I WROTE THIS IN ANSWER TO SOME QUESTIONS POSED ABOUT DYING, IT IS JUST A STUDIO EXERCISE:

I WILL DIE

I WILL DIE

And when I leave what will I leave behind?

A two bedroom flat, with my half eaten breakfast on the table next to my morning mug of tea, and the unopen bank statements piling up on the sideboard?

Will the sheets be crisp and fresh and recently laundered, or still warm and full of the smell of me and many a well slept night of dreaming?

I want to leave my children behind, I owe them to the future and the future to them. And if I have done any good, said any good, lived any good, pleased someone, loved someone, helped someone, held someone, listened, touched or witnessed, may that be left behind too.

May others enjoy what I have enjoyed, over and over and over again.

Keep sucking at it till its dry

I WILL DIE

I WILL DIE

And when I do, let others rejoice, “She is dead!”

I owe you that, I owe you no suffering.

I owe you nothing, I leave you nothing.

Burn the bank statements and the bed sheets, wash the bowls and the cups.

And please just bury me in the earth, and let the earthworms nestle, the vultures peck out my eyes, and the maggots fester, till I am all used up.

For my deeds have all been done.

I WILL DIE.

I AM NOTHING.

AND I WILL DIE.

                                                                                                                                                            



THIS IS AN EXTRACT FROM SOME WRITING ON FEAR:

.... Paralysed by love. Paralysed by fear. Holding fear. Seeing fear in front of me. Being fear. Urgh. A pain immense like serpents squeezing the blood flow to all your arteries, forcing your heart to panic and pant like a tired dog. A dog. He’s having heart palpitations. I feel like a dog. One of those dogs that people buy as presents for Christmas after years of yearning, and are so excited, elated and euphoric about but then inevitably discard and send back to the dogs home with teary goodbyes once reality sets in. Shit....

Annoyances... a studio stream of consciousness

Pass

Fail

Distinction

Guns that don’t shoot

Knickers that don’t fit

Dog shit on the pavement

Too many cars on the road and the people in them

Parents, in general

People who claim to be shy and then draw attention to themselves

Supermarkets, consumerism and adverts about weight loss

Fabrics that old people wear

Lazy teenagers and their push-up bras

New Look, Peacocks, M & Co

Mass excursions to peaceful beauty spots

Preachers

Extremists

Attachments to anything or anyone just “because” and not for love

Bus fare inflation

Men that grab you in bars

Men with girlfriends that grab you in bars

Men with wives that grab you in bars

Cats

Plastic

Facebook

Cosmetic surgery

Racism, sexism, homophobia, agoraphobia

Photos in drawers, boxes, on cds, hard-drives, anywhere but in albums

Big brother

My little brother starting an argument just for the sake of it

Clever people that break your heart

War

Rules

7 out of 10

8 out of 10

10 out of 10

Why is she running?

I went for a run yesterday and a four year old child in a pushchair said as I passed, "Mummy, why is that lady running?"

I wanted to say, "because I love to run!" but I didn't, because it felt slightly mental and also I wasn't loving running much at that moment!
I was more curious to see what her mother might say in response.  It's so interesting that a young kid would view running as a strange and rare occurence for a grown up to be doing. Her mum was a little embarassed and said quietly "She's just running. Um, er,  you run sometimes don't you!"

Imagine the world in a future where the need to run decreases to such an extent, and maybe even walking becomes rare, or moving at all becomes unnecessary.... How little will people need to move to survive?
 We can already order groceries and almost everything we could possible need direct to our homes. There is a new phone app which enables us to have a lover at our front door within minutes- so no running involved in that game anymore!

Communication Research

'Communication research'  from Greig Cooke:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=fHVfh5C9UUE


I think it's supposed to be me and him in conversation. 
Well, I think it went quite well, and we seem to be capable of listening and understanding each other. 

Making sweet music together

Day 1 and 2 of Running on Empty
Myself, Greig Cooke and Scott Smith- the 3 performers- begin the process at Scott's home in Shoreham making music togther, and tinkering about with some of the songs we already had from Lee Ross.

Brad Birch is busy writing away (think Nicolas Cage as Kaufman in the film Adaptation) and we are waiting in gentle anticipation to see how the story will unfold, or maybe there will be no solid story, what's ever solid anyway.

We have done the research, we know how this beast will work, and it is a beast. The writing comes next and will inform all the next moves.... this is the exciting bit! 

Well, whilst we're waiting i can go for a run (tick!) and practise the few chords i have learnt on guitar and banjo...

AAAH!

The Beast

"I love the beast. I actually look forward to the beast showing up, because every time he does, I handle him better. I get him more under control."
... on ultra running in the Sahara.
Instead of cringing from fatigue, you embrace it. You refuse to let it go. You get to know it so well, you're not afraid of it anymore. You can't hate the Beast and expect to beat it; the only way to truly conquer something, as every great philosopher and geneticist will tell you, is to love it.

Ummmm, Ok, I'm going to face the beast. I'm not afraid of that cold windy day outside, of the steep wooded hill I have to climb to get up on the hill and run across the top. I'm not afraid of the blustery sea in the distance, calling me in. Just me, a little human, padding alongside the ever present ferocity of nature. Bring it on, and we shall see if I learn to love to beast or not!

Born to Run

Way before we were scratching pictures on caves or beating rhythms on hollow trees, we were perfecting the art of combining our breath and mind and muscles into fluid self-propulsion over wild terrain. and when our ancestors finally did make their first cave paintings, what were the first designs? A downward slash, lightening bolts through the bottom and middle- behold, the Running Man.
Running was indispensable; it was the way we survived and thrived and spread across the planet. You ran to eat and to avoid being eaten; you ran to find a mate and impress her, and with her you ran off to start a new life together. You had to love running or you wouldn't live to love anything else. And like everything else we love- everything we sentimentally call our 'passions' and 'desires'- its really an encoded ancestral necessity. We were born to run; we were born because we run.

From Born to run by Christopher McDougall,  I really recommend the read!

I just looked out my window to see a man running past, the typical Brighton type- beard, thin well-worn T-shirt, white running shoes- battling against the wind and hill, red faced and sweaty. I'm thinking I'm gonna put my runners on and follow him, see if I can impress him, this is 2013 after all!