top of page

Kosta's reflections ~2 weeks into the process


Liv and the dream

Kosta’s impressions in the space

Josie sees all the light. Light feels like touch

David by the pole

Each weekday we’ve arrived at the Maker’s Workshop at 09h30. We begin with a movement practice. So far we have used Lisa Nelson’s Tuning Scores, Mary Starks Whitehouse’s Authentic Movement, Barbara Dilley’s contemplative movement, and Susan Klein’s Klein Technique roll-down. Then we crack into scores for the rest of the day, finishing at 14h30 (break between 11h30 to 12h30). We’ve been writing performance scores for each other such as,


Robyn’s score (received and performed by David)

  • Start by giving yourself a calming face massage.

  • See if your attention focuses on a body part.

  • UNWIND this body part for the duration of two minutes

  • Allow this to practice focusing.

  • See where your focus takes you in the room.

  • Find a peculiar surface.

  • Try to be as silent as you possibly can during this score.

  • Put your shoes on and then off to end.


We write them on pieces of paper and put them into a wooden box found in the room, scramble them up, and then blindly pick one of the scores to perform (putting our own one back if we happened to pick it out).  We spin a bottle to choose who will enact the score they received. The scores can call on more than one performer.


Josie and I were intentionally open and vague in describing score-writing to Liv, David, and Robyn but as we progressed, with the factors towards the success of the score unclear, we felt we needed to place more restrictions and introduce a concept to every exercise of score-writing. This week, we introduced the idea of writing a score that tends to an element of performance. We wrote and performed scores tending to space, time, and sound. These mini compositions generally had a higher success rate in terms of what 'landed' and made us feel something and we think we can attribute that to the exercise’s focus; that the exercise of writing scores doesn’t have the loaded pressure to perhaps ‘solve’ all concerns of performance but rather tend to one. I felt like the practice challenged us to define these elements of performance for ourselves and discover the myriad of other interpretations to one concept, all of which can be elements or modes of virtuosity in themselves within a performance. For example, consider time: A moment (personal, social, of an action), the point at which to act (e.g. when is it the right time to dance), the speed of something, the experience of the rate at which time travels. Another example, consider space: is it a site? Is it imagined geometry in a room? Is it internal space you occupy? Is it proximity or distance to things? Things like this are considered when you're writing a score with one concept in mind. It seems to be really simple and effective.

Kosta's time score for two people

Hold this paper out in front of your face

you have begun

take a moment

what's the length of a moment?

take another moment

what's the length of a moment?

have a few more moments

lower this paper down to begin PART 2


take a moment to move, trying on the skin of the moment

when the moments over pause and wait

wait until the other person finishes their moment to being your next

you have three more moments before you finish, aim to draw and extend these moments out as far as you can before the moment closes in on you

One day we had a big chat after lunch about the work like, what are we doing here?, what do we think we’re doing?, and Josie rolled out the bakers paper out for us to jot ideas that are resonating. Things might be clearer on the document (there are also diagrams) but feel free to read through to freely associate. It might paint a picture of the tone of our work so far...


Aliens and David Huggins (not our David, David, the painter and UFO abductee, who depicts his personal experiences with aliens)





Entering and Exiting the score,

Act of watching,


Meaning-making… continuous and significance,

All available -- bring it all with us,

Bound to time… or… three places at once,


Writing destiny,








Roles: defining shapeshifting, replacing


stories/novels narrative and process of progression,

Creating language,

Scores that allow for agency,


Pick-a-path novel,

Dancing with failure,

The truth is out there…

Contemplative movement,

What is certainty?

Neurological training,


Opening for transfiguration, alien/gravity, technology

Finding ending,


Priority vs. desire,


Clarity, collective listening,


Universe expansion,

Alien, shapeshifter, suit, disguise, costume,

Destiny, it is written,

Subjectivity, agency, free will,

Listening, communication: I feel…; I am…,


Death is certain,

What if chance is involved,

Randonaut, cards,

Dance-show/performance as representation of life or an experience of life.


Performance space, observation deck. The malleable membrane: Can I join? Can I leave? In, out, neither here nor there,

Hands, filter hands,


The default line with tangential moments, always in motion (destiny),

Fine tuning our sensitivities,


Activating words: rely, role, symbiotic, composure, stronger, certainty, determinism, replace, reduce, consuming, weak, weaker, reflections 14.06.2020


I’ve been thinking about how a score is like destiny or a representation of one, for the performer. When I commit to a score I am throwing myself into the world and logic of the score. I commit to doing this and that for a length of time that, if not outlined, is implicitly understood within the group. The average performance duration for each score is around eight minutes. 


Scores make me think about determinism but on a smaller scale. This idea has prompted me to write scores with an experiential bent rather than outlining dance movements or instructing the performer to visually represent something I want to see. The experiential score prioritises the performer’s individual experience. Witnessing the performer discover things about themselves—through their body (a dancer’s intelligence or power)—within a performance that is predestined, is profoundly rewarding. We’re interested in creating dance the is mediated through empathy.


We’ve treated writing the scores as a practice of ‘gifting’ to a performer. It is an offer of an experience. When we're working with scores so explicitly and so studiously, i.e. continuously writing and performing scores over and over, it feels much more considerate to the performer to offer them a score that is an experience that they can enjoy (read: engaging, activating, generative, challenging, fruitful). 


We are all very passionate about dance and contemporary performance so the challenge of writing a score is often creatively meeting our standards and capabilities as dancers. We’re still trying to uncover what makes a successful score (that satisfies our needs as somanauts*). I think the scores that are landing for me are the ones that hold a space for subjectivity and agency while also possessing an internal logic that creates a theatrical tension between bodies in space, time, and context… and again, treating the score as a destiny in miniature or predestined performance. Some other words I’d like to attribute and approach to the scores that we make: ‘prophecy’ and ‘compositional milieu’.


*Somanaut: compound word of soma (from somatics, meaning the body from the subjective point-of-view or mind-body) and -naut from the pattern of astronaut, aeronaut, and aquanaut, meaning traveler on an expedition of the mind-body. reflections 15.06.2020


Josie said she’d like to create a show that progresses like a novel; that the performance progression is made possible by the performers bringing it to life in the same way a text can only progress through the process of reading. I wonder how we could make a live work in the theatre that creates a similar sort of engagement in the work where the viewer must also engage in the work in order for it to come alive in some sort of causal way for them. Activity pushes the story along—of course this already does occur; we pay attention to the things we’re watching but Josie differentiated the show she wants to make like a novel from, say, a movie. She’d like to aim towards making a show that demands a more active engagement. Also, that the work has a main thread that carries the work, like a novel typically uses a narrative, and then there can be tangential moments, scenes, or passages that introduce the viewer in a different corner of the theatrical universe we’re expanding over time before returning to the device to that which it is tethered. She said this could be a story that I might read aloud for thirty minutes or so, a relatively considerable length of time, and/or a song that is sung or played or both during a whole band-like moment.


I had dreamed of similar things for the show but without ‘the novel’ as a reference. I wrote a short story recently which was quite tangential. I wonder if I was inspired by this.

Josie Reflection 03/08/2020 is sitting in a place between digital and analogue performance.We are currently undergoing the first development for a new show… the development process is, the show might be called It’s not love it’s procrastination. Half of the process has happened already, physically together in the studio, and the other half is happening via zoom over these coming weeks. Then there is this subplot (really into subplots as a thing atm) which is this blog and the online content (photos and videos etc).


Kosta and I have been talking about how honest to be in this blog. How much of our personal lives and internal journeys should we include when reflecting on the process so far—hopefully without being too self indulgent. Is that something you (the reader) want or even need to know or should we just stick to the facts, the tangible stuff we have done? Kosta and I both agree that only sharing the things we did in the studio as opposed to the things that we didn’t do, for example, or the others things going on around us that have informed the process would be to paint a false picture or perhaps too glossy of a picture of what the process actually is. It’s a question of how we would like to represent ourselves and present the nature and content of the process publicly. I think that’s the hard thing about representing yourself or your work online: whatever it is gets taken out of context and it’s hard to keep an understanding of the original context with it in the transfer. 

Our time in the studio. The beginning _______


______ It looked a lot like previous processes we have done. We began the day with somatic/body work practices as warmup and preparation for the day ahead, followed by scores. Those are the facts. But there is always the subtext, The shadow narratives running parallel to our lives... At the beginning we were getting to know each other,becoming intimate and establishing ourselves as a group, a family. Some of us were meeting for the first time, some of us were meeting for the first time in a new way—bonding through movement and language—Becoming familiar with each other's bodies through touch, intuitively communicating, translating the love and affection we have for one another socially as friends into creativity. It was exhausting. This all happened straight after lockdown and I know for myself the ability to wake up early and get to work and focus and be professional (what even is that and do I want to value this in the traditional sense) and socialise and think was a challenge, I was out of practice. I had underestimated how much of an impact isolation had had. But I loved it. It’s what makes me feel alive. Exhilarated… I was home. 


We were also all personally getting back into dancing post lockdown—another shadow narrative. Everyone has their own needs when it comes to dance: What we want to do, how we want to move, or how we want our bodies to feel. And this is only our second time working with other dancers so our journey as choreographers is floating alongside everything we do as well, Wondering how much to say or answers to give… should we know what we are doing? Attempting to always uphold our values as people and artists, trying to resist the need to narrow in on what we are doing or to consolidate something too early on. Trying to stick to the fact this is a first development and to keep the play alive.


Every score was an exploration of the world and what can and cannot exist in it i.e voice, object, sound, seriousness, silliness, feeling etc. 


The scores were more than just exercises… something to do so we could make the show. They were the site for all of these other things to unfold. To grow and change and deepen.  Recently when Kosta and I were interviewed by Elani and Jacob for Tempo we were asked how we find a balance between freelance life and personal life and so we tried to explain what I’m maybe trying to explain here… that for us it is all connected. Everything informs everything. 




I’ve been thinking about scores through a lens of facilitation rather than choreography. Maybe because of the online classes I was teaching through MAP during our development. If a score is a proposal of an activity for the performer with the hopes that they might have some sort of experience are we then facilitators/teachers more than choreographers? In this way the invitation can still be centred around a range of propositions i.e aesthetic, somatic, performative… but the underlying principle is that the performer learns something by doing the score. Can we focus more on teaching each other rather than directing each other? It’s happening anyway but might be nice to emphasize it. 

Big zoom score 10.08.2020


You will need:

- News Source

- Warm clothes


Meditate 18h15

Stand 18h30

Roll down ~15 minutes


Skywatch 1846

Dance as an active meditation of the spirit of the site ~10 minutes.

Read ~10 minutes

Eliminate ~5 minutes


Written Reflection ~10 minutes


Glass of water



Written Reflection 10.08.2020 zoom dance process

This is the written reflection of what transpired in Kosta’s reality during this zoom process. His body. The stars. The satellites. Two of them. Another one, maybe, going in a different direction. Not the same. The night. Scarves. Coats. Light pollution, a haze, is kind of nice and annoying when you’re trying to look at the stars and see the blackness between them. The space. Space. The room. Dancing as an active meditation of the spirit of the site (the room/s: the lounge, the bathroom (I played guitar in it. I also strummed a G chord in the lounge), the very small hallway (If you can call it that. Perhaps it’s just a passage or passage-way), the bedroom, the kitchen). Walk in and around. Go down, go up. Look up at the stairs. Kept looking up, head kinked back—feels good. Looking up feels good. Dancing feels good. Dancing feels strange.

The meditation. The sounds of the zoom chat. The windows emanating sounds that create a slight feedback. It sounds like water running. A small stream. Trickling. It feels warped. Feels like the image of my face could bend and my face would bend because that is also my face. My face in the chat window. Your face in the chat window. Where are you looking in gallery mode. Looking away to listen. Looking into your face to watch you as I listen. Facing away to read to you. Facing into the computer reading a text but the camera is dead on your face, your glance downwards, somewhere, reading that text. Text jumps. Text train. Catch phrases. Riding the text and then breaking off. Falling off. Trying to keep on track. Listening. Catch phrases.

Rolling down. Trees sagging. Trunks. Lumbar. Pulling, tensile. Structures. Holograms. Standing still. Trees, again.

Southeast. Jupiter. Southern cross. Satellites.

02.09.2020 15h46

The (working title (read: we will not continue with this on-the-nose, cheesy name)) first development process is officially over. We will continue posting things on our Instagram account and updating our blog while we plan phase two: the creation process towards a new work to be presented next year!

Here is a psychedelic* score I wrote for our second to last rehearsal,

 Psychedelic score 1

Title: The gift of laugh

begin sitting down.

Laugh but make it crying,
Cry but make it talking,
Talk but make it dance,
Dance but make it laughing.

Lower the volume of the laugh but maintain the laugh,
Lower the volume of the laugh (the entire laugh, the physical action of doing it).


*an introduced focus for writing scores initiated by Josie. Psychedelic as in, an agent of lateral change (e.g. change of physical state, change of consciousness, change of energy) so that the score is a linear journey from A to B and is irreversible. I think the focus encourages ingredients that steer the typical path of the ego and familiar somatic patterns away from the subjective norm.

I made this note to myself before writing this score,

Note: Mythology around a score and completing it and what gifts it grants.

I'd like to write scores and develop an insider-mythology around it so that the people who perform this score know about the magic it possesses, the gifts it grants, when you enact it. Here, I thought about the scene in Nacho Libre when Nacho (Jack Black) must scale the cliff on the edge of the coast, crack open the egg of an eagle, drink its yoke, and dive into the ocean to wield new strength and power. I thought about what our scores could do. Also, I thought about our scores as a rite of passage. That in doing the performance score you are in the act of becoming a performer. In fact, this is already the case.

I brought this up with the crew and now we have plans to scale a mountain (other layered, temporal ritualistic obligations and challenges TBC) before timing it perfecly, we enter the theatre, arriving on stage with our full hiking get up and paraphernalia, then de-robe and re-robe into performance attire to begin the performance-performance.


Below are some written reflections from our within our entry-practice for our zoom sessions. Towards the end of our process, Josie and I found this particular list of exercises a easy way to drop ourselves back into the world and recenter our focus and attention (away from the domestic distractions that we contend with every time we work from a laptop),

Entry 15 min

Meditation 10 min
Shake 10 min
Limber 5 min
Walk 10 min
Reflect 10 min

Share 20 min

The entry is the time for every one to arrive into the zoom meeting and allow for a little bit of chit-chat before diving straight into the work. The meditation is meditation in the most generic and vague sense of the word. Shaking is a typical contemporary dance exercise where one gyrates their body by any physical means (we would usually have some music playing to help us through). Limber is stretching and moving around how you like and need in that particular moment. Walk is to take a walk outside. Once you've returned from your walk, Reflect is a written reflection of that walk but can and often generates text that is tangential, non-sequitur-laden, or off topic stream of consciousness reflection and meditation.

and then we share our reflections with each other!

Walking reflections


I’m late. I had a phone call from Lorna from St Johns church at the end of the street. We might use the hall for our next show. She told me that the hall is booked out for 15 days straight for the elections because it’s a high polling area and they want to spread it out so social distancing can be maintained… etc. I said goodbye about half way down the drive. I wanted to turn left towards the supermarket so I could make it to ferry road and be surrounded by cras and people and noises because it would be the opposite of yesterdays quiet contemplative walk but I saw Kosta had gone that way and we decided to go our seperate ways today. I turned right. I walked for a while realising I was in my thoughts and not actively noticing anything. Unfortunately the first thing I saw when I decided to observe my surroundings was dried up dog shit on the pavement. They is a lot of dogshit around… right in the middle of the footpath. But it’s a sunny beautiful day so there must be beauty to see also. I passed a woman pushing a pram crossed the road and turned right towards a church… not Lornas church. This one said Christ City Church which I thought was funny because it’s Christchurch City but rearranged. I decided to take a photo of the sign and thus began my photo journey. Next to the church is a park with a playground. I didn’t walk to it, instead I went right again down a tiny side street that leads to an abandoned lot. Private Property Keep Out. On the way I took a few photos of my shadow. Looked in for a moment, checked the time and then started making my way back. 


Walking on tuesday morning. Stepping out into the outside air, fresher, full of moisture flurried about by the wind. Hood up and pulled tight, an instant frame. Noticing things like the dip in the rocks and the purple flower. The sound of children enthralled in the moment carried on the wind. A bustle of laughter and squeals and motion. Other sounds. The loud beeping of what I imagine is a largish truck reversing. As I acknowledged it the memory of when my mum reversed into a milk truck that was parked over our drive flooded my thoughts and I smiled a soft laugh. Back to the present moment, it was quiet now and then Kosta ran his hand along a too white new fence that surrounds the house on an angel. It sits on the corner of St Johns Street and the cul de sac we were entering. It points to the corner, crossing the section. Odd. Walking a calder sack is odd, I thought of the subtle adjustments my body was doing to stay on the path. 

Today I realised that we don’t lock the house when we go for these little walks. I noticed because I shut the door when I left. It’s a very beautiful day today. Sunny. We opened the door after shaking because we were hot. I put on a hat because I washed and moisturised my face this morning and for some reason I feel like I will burn instantly if I go in the sun with moisturiser on.  I took my coffee as well… I was more person than dancer on my walk today. It is the weekend after all. I picked an orange flower to my right. I want to call it a gerbera but it’s not… geranium maybe. It’s the one you plant in your vege patch to distract the bugs or maybe repel the bugs I’m not sure. They are companion plants I’ve been told. The same flower that is planted all along the outside of the hall at the end of the road that is now a place of worship. I went to the little creek and walked one swift loop around the picnic table and began my journey back. There is a little patch of green that looks over to the supermarket car park. Not exactly a haven. I picked two other things on my walk. A mint leaf and a dried seed stick thing. I actually thought I was going to collect a stone on my walk but none of them jumped out at me and I didn’t want to force it. I’m just noticing now that I’m writing this that the very first thing I noticed and loved on my walk today was a green tree and an orange tree in the distance. The colours were the special thing about them and I thought about orange and green and how the combo of them is maybe consider a bad combo but that nature is all about the orange and greens. I made two cups at pottery and one is orange on the outside and the other is green. 

25.08.2020 11h05

I stepped outside. It began to rain. I notified Josie. I put on my new bike jacket that is wax coated and slightly sun-damaged. I asked Josie if she wanted to walk with me. She nodded as she poured herself a glass of water at the sink. We walked down Clinton Lane. I swerved to the right when a car pulled in Josie followed and then the car passed us into Clinton Lane. We crossed the street. We went down a road. There was a white fence that felt like it was made of plastic or wood with a resin that was plastic-y. There was a faded-red fence the next door down that was definitely made of wood and a lot less new. I was curious about the house behind it. The fences seemed to fortify the houses from view. There was one of those newer versions of trampolines with the fencing around the circular rim. I think the trampolines are less bouncy than their beta versions. I don’t know why I know this. Maybe because I tried one when I was young or have just watched kids play on it and observed that they are less bouncy. Josie and I reached a culdesac. As we circumscribed the culdesac I made contact with her hand and held it. There was a large old wheel; maybe from like a very old tractor or something. I picked up two rosehips on one twig from the ground. Around this time I began to notice plants. Ones on the street and ones in funny pots. Blue painted rocks.


I walked out the small gate (it’s waist height). I checked the mail; no mail. I walked down Clinton Lane. I walked down the sidewalk and saw a Mazda, Toyota, Honda, Suzuki, and another Toyota whose maker I couldn’t discern until it’s rear showed the iconic characterised T, which I guess also has a Y and an O in there if you look for it. I always thought it looked like a head wearing a cowboy hat and thought it was fitting for a car that I thought was quite masculine, when I was young. The car had an X on the front of it which I learned is the logo for the Toyota MarkX when I saw another Toyota MarkX up close when I was next to the Supermarket.

There were some roadworks going on. There was a drain pipe with the sound of water audibly traveling underneath it. There was the sounds of some bird calls dipping in tone, which might have been a Doppler effect while they were flying… Do birds sing while they’re flying? There was the sound of a neighbour vacuuming. On that neighbour’s property there was a shotty looking greenhouse in the driveway. I thought it was a strange place to put a greenhouse and an shotty-looking one at that.

I walked into a swarm of small flies twice. I closed my eyes as my head bowled through them. Out the other end of the first swarm I encountered a woman pushing a tram. I smiled and nodded to a man and he reciprocated.

The sound of machines of construction, road cones, “Supermarket entrance only” sign, the house on the corner that I wonder sometimes if it is a trap house.

I saw the Port hills on the way back and tall trees. I continued to look at the tall trees in the distance to see if I could see birds in and around them. I didn’t see any. There was Old man’s beard crawling up a tall tree standing individually to the left of the cluster of tall tress in my vision. 

12h10 walking…

Thought about the Snapper song and how Gwyn went to a self defence course with one of the band members and shocked the teacher with a consensual forcible shove.

I was in my thoughts so my surroundings were quite less focussed. I did register things to the point where I can recall certain things but I can also see a picture. I must have taken a mental snapshot around this point because the moment I’m referring to is a moment. It has a manhole.

I looked at my time left on my iPhone, four minutes and forty-six seconds, it read. I wanted to reach the end of this little drive to this wild plant-growing plot of land that said private property (and I stopped then when I read it) and that was going to be my halfway point but it would take more than half my time to get there. I thought, since I had less of a destination on this walk, more a focus on uninhibited meandering that the walk back would be faster because I had an intention, a destination on the way home. I thought there might be a whakatauki on that. Something about the destination back home always being faster because there is a clearer intention to return than there is to go. That to depart and continue onward, even with an agenda, would still be less clear because its journey has more purpose, more meaning, or more learning, and exploration and so can’t afford be as expedient as the return home which is always just and simply a return. Something like that and made more concise would make a whakatauki I could get behind.

Neighbour sprayed roundup on the weeds between her stones. I pitied her.


Walking out the front door, the air is warm and still; a veiled threat of the summer to come. My body feels lighter, stronger and it thanks me for noticing. There is a discarded prescription on the road and it thanks me for noticing. Yesterday it was right, today it was left. Down an alleyway, small apocalypses everywhere. Colours of this pandemic. COVID filter. Some streets have a back alley. Afterthoughts compared with the facades out front: bins, junk and graffiti. I imagine the houses as people. Mouths at the front, waste at the back. Made in our image. There is a set of drawers. A note-“Take me please” I’m tempted.

18.09.2020 15h33 More walking reflections

Olivia McGregor's

Walking Zoom #1


It started with Emily asking 'Why are you going for a walk?' and me saying 'just coz'- and walking out thinking actually I can do anything without a reason ? For myself or for others. I was then confronted with the hazards portrayed in sign form. Covid. Safety. Security. I start to wonder about boundaries- How much can we do? Children learn a lot from their mistakes and find an alternative way of doing things, As an adult you already have all of your child learnings plus the ones given to you in sign form. I have created a photo series to show the group.

Walking Zoom # 2


Today I stepped outside and actually the view from Ross and Emily's is so nice I would have preferred to just stand there but the task says to walk. I feel calmer today and more aware of my breath, which is reaching down to my feet, my shoes are too small. The concrete is unfinished. I notice a van parked outside with a bed and a small kitchen in the back and wonder about Auckland house prices.

I walk past a torn down election sign and wonder which Party it is- it's facing down. I keep walking but turn back because I need to know- it was just an event for the pools.

Both days I have wanted to walk to see the ocean that the park overlooks. I didn't get there yesterday because I was distracted by the signs.

I get distracted and see the sickest place to perform in summer. I take a photo to show the group, if they aren't into it I might try and do something myself. I make it to the sea. The tide has come in. I guessed it was coming in by the currents on my earlier walk, I was right. Now I feel like my thoughts are in my speaking voice because I know the task and know that I will have to read it outloud. 

I can't stop. I audibly say 'stop'. I can't.

The sign I took a photo of yesterday I see again, and I actually read it today instead of just being annoyed by it. It says 'DISEASED ELM DO NOT MOVE' and I feel stupid because actually that would cause harm if it was moved, oops. I realise bark and mulch is actually just shredded tree and I've never thought of that before. I only walked for 7 mins so I meander back because I'm done.

Clean my shoes in a puddle.

Walking Zoom # 3


I take an Up&Go with me. I walk up the drive and notice two groups of people. One group of 3 and the other a couple. Both parties look grumpy. I noticed this on my walk earlier too and wonder if it's because of lockdown.  I notice the sound of Up&Go straining up my straw.  I notice the contrast of blue sky and white cloud.  I notice the park bench set in concrete facing a weird direction.  I notice I am cold and put my top on.  I go to go the same way I have gone the last 2 walks and change my mind, causing a sudden jerk to my otherwise smooth pace.  I notice the bad alignment in my hips which may have come to my attention because of Emily analysing me. I decide to walk the path I haven't been on yet because Emily told me not to, she named it Rape Path.  I think about all the secluded dodgy spots I have walked in Berlin alone in the middle of the night and wonder how much more dangerous this could be considering it's daytime in the middle of Herne Bay, Auckland. I stop to take a photo of some graffiti, I will read it to the others later. There is a girl walking down Rape Path before me with her dog. She turns to look at me 3 times and then pulls over to the side to let me pass. I wonder if she also calls it Rape Path and is scared of me? I find a shopping list, it reads..



REFLECTIONS writing Zoom



My back feels like it's getting better, but i still can't do the things in full force that i'd like to. The satellite live was amazing, it looked so otherworldly and made you remember space. Also the noises from the video call were always very calming. The movement was relaxed and peaceful and made me fall into safety in my room. When I placed the basket over my head, I couldn't help but think of the stars and the galaxy. It was so completely gorgeous. I still feel tired and that's a nice feeling. My thoughts about today are laying bare and my anxiety is low. Travelling through time and space is something you can't describe, but merely only experience. My tummy is feeling closer to my heart. My article lay heavy as I bear concern about having children, knowing I want them, but having to face all the money into having one. Soon a friend would be so nice to have around, to allow my heart that nurturing space/ hope. Long term / Short term things, how they work and elongate. I want to pull more goddess cards for myself this evening. For guidance and grace.



I recall putting on green fuzzy magic slippers. It's so warm inside, I go outside, the rain has just stopped for me, it's pouring now, but I feel so ready and willing to enter the falling ocean. The mist is falling over the hill tops like a blanket, I walk up a steep road and wave to a neighbour in a red car. I get to the top of the hill, I look at the mist, maybe I'm following it. The houses obscure my vision. I grab my phone to take a photo but my app keeps going black then suddenly switching off, i wonder to myself if i have ruined the moment. I turn around and face the ocean, my face feels appreciative and really within a film as though I'm being watched by my own eyes. It's lovely, I love storms.



My god damn fridge is faulty. I couldn't go for my walk because i was chatting to the guy about a new fridge. It was all frosted over, the pipes were all so delicate, i'm going to have to find a way to use all the veggies now, maybe i'll make a soup, funny, somehow melting ice reminded me off a part of my dream which was that i got my lips injected to look all plump and soft, but actually i secretly really do want to get that done. What do you think? I was sad the man arrived half way through the first song, I was really enjoying my shake. The back of my shoulder blades felt very communicative. When I was outside paying the fridge man, I couldn't help but notice the wonderful smell of the air, the warmth of the sun and noticing my excitement for spring. I just noticed my tarot deck is number 1943, which equals 17, that's a cool number. My conscious reflection feels easier today and less poetic. The sun makes me want to garden. I think I will. I might be getting a puppy on friday, my heart is feeling able to make decisions again and ride in a more hopeful future, can you tell i've had some dark days. I really miss all of you and wish we could be walking together, making marlon jealous of our hawt bodies. I really hope  Josie's thing is okay today and she has the strength she needs. Kosta kicks ass with the final cut, David's body adjusts to post lockdown and Olivia receives an unexpecting heartwarming message.



The spring air is arriving and so has my new pup. I finished my shake and she bounded through the door with Martin, she's learning so fast. So we began to meander around, already the energy feels calmer and gentler because we have to be in order to create a safe environment. My feet got cold with the ground being fresh. I began to think about skin cells, how they draw nutrients from the ground and if this is a scientific thing that happens to dogs. Maybe we should walk barefoot up the mountain. My brain, my brain, my brain, has has abit of a headache the past few days, i hope to nap after this session during our meander, the shipping container boat sounded its horn for one minute, a thing they did to remind us they are there as due to covid and cannot leave ship or travel back home to russian. I feel for them and their lack of nature, juniper hid under my bum when the horn sounded, so nice to feel safe to someone or something else. I have the moment when none of us know when the writing has stopped, or at least it seems like the never ending score.



We managed as a collective to uncover language through dance with scores in its most simplest form. Where the psychedelic starts to enter is when we surpass ways of navigating real time and enter non linear time. Aspects of ritual and importance of commitment start to play fundamental roles. Scores have the ability to seep into our “common reality”, this being our day to day routine in whatever shape that looks. It has an ability to inform actions and reactions. 


Should we have a score Manifesto?? (Above being some of the points?)

bottom of page