I started Weave’s second day of exploration with the burgeoning Sarah Fiddaman, steeped in the remains of grief and hopelessness triggered by the opening on Friday. When a day starts with tears, the only way is up, right?
Indeed it is and so ran the trajectory of this day. Acknowledging the everlasting sense of loss of capability (19 years and counting) enabled me to evolve to the vaunted state of exploration, still a rare occurrence for me when dance is part of the equation.
It still surprises me, grieving to this day. One would expect to get ‘over’ it. I don’t and today Sarah proposed that maybe I never will.
It is to be expected. Reminded of what was before as soon as I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress to face the day, comparisons litter my awareness. Will they ever stop? I doubt it. Yet over the years has come a familiarity and acceptance.
Perhaps you can appreciate my confusion. Grief existing alongside acceptance; a contradiction in terms? Apparently not.
Together with David Baker, Leisa Prowd and Willow J Conway, we traversed movements brought forth by concepts inspired by human-kind’s addiction to trash and plastic waste. Such a hopeless sounding endeavour actually resulted in 20 mins of freeform dance that felt as though we entered a void of timelessness. Each on our own journeys, we came together in cohesive expression before drawing away to follow our own trajectory. This would invariably cross another’s resulting in a shared moment of negotiative movement that, in turn, would separate… and onwards.
By day’s end, it was all I could do to thank my comrades in movement for holding me through the tears and supporting my journey to expression.
Thanks, until the next time x