After months of incubating this piece, after weeks of defining, refining and seeking concreteness that would slip elusively through my fingers each time I sensed a touch.
As we lose Gabrielle Roth, in corporeal form, I finally feel a sense of connection to this piece.
Through sound and music to:
those around us,
Music reminds us to feel.
How does this sound make me feel?
What is the voice expressing?
What does the artist want me to hear?
In the lyrics (if there are lyrics)?
Instruments that were chosen?
Timbre of the sounds?
Is it a celebration?
Can I celebrate?
Does it grieve?
Can I grieve?
How does all of that help me create movement?
How does it help me to sort myself?
How will this experience open me up, without force and violence, but with tender fingers? Invite me to become more accessible? For myself first. Within myself, where I create a safe place to feel. Accessible so that I may participate more fully in every moment by feeling more deeply now that I have established safety in myself?
In that safety I know what is mine to own, to move through and to release. Sound lovingly reminds me to feel and move on and I know that I cannot move on if I have not allowed myself to feel. I will not heal if I don’t spend time. I’m not healed if I’m not functional, no matter what I tell myself. My dance knows this. My body’s response to the music speaks. Clearly if I am willing to hear. Others may feel sorry for me. I may feel sorry for myself. I may convince myself that what I’m doing is ok – but my dance knows.
Ofcourse, I won’t communicate much if any of this in the workshop. First, it’s a deeply personal experience. Second, this is not a therapy session and I’m not a therapist. Some will discover this whether I make it a point or not. Some will refuse to discover it. I will only bring the opportunity to uncover something new.