To wear the Lake one must enter slowly.
Eyes cast forwards, ambivalent almost.
Ankles lapping the pooled rippled bite.
Carves stream stories to the curved knee nooks.
Goosed thighs pillared straight, anticipate.
Knees give to please the thighs, slow to arrive. A rising surface.
The Lens of longing.
Limbs. Sending songs of shiver further.
Shells are falling. Given to the water.
Accommodate this body a while.
Allow this motion to pattern still surface.
Swallow my form.
Swallow my form.
Drawing in requires fullness yet asks formlessness.
Pelvic bowl tilts and returns.
Eb and flow. tilt and return.
I am clothed but my reflection is naked
Forever a thin skinned child
Like water, I am soft
Revealing my unself
we formed bowls, we passed them around the circle - each bowl has been made by many hands.
a collaborative process, and an exercise in holding before letting go.
as a bowl was passed to us we could feel the hands that held it before – their warmth, the marks they had made, the way they had moved with the clay.
Each hand left traces, fingerprints, shapes.
Our own hands became part of that pattern.
we spoke about pattern, and how it is formed through relationship and connection.
Pattern is everywhere we go and it is in everything we do.
Nature itself is continuously holding, before letting go.
Images from a series of collaborative workshops with Alice Clough and the students of Totnes Progressive School.
crabs + climbing + other things. making stories.
We wHO Intentionally Make
sometimes physical or written or invisible or a movement.
we are Making with eyes and body instruments \\
Being + Doing
"there was no reason to progress, and nothing that had to be done."
- Masanobu Fukuoka