I am longing to belong,

here where I am and also where I am not.

What are the conditions that I need

to perform this ritual? 

Perhaps a space that dictates my movements. 

A method of connecting this fictional world

with a real world.

And so I created very specific worlds.

Islands.

These spatial worlds are the bearable paths

with a beginning and an end.

Now,

Let’s visit this space.

Let me help you relate to it,

even embody it perhaps.

Transforming these winding curves into

bodily movements,

I took this world for a walk, 

following the movement that the object offered,

to create encounters.

Take this movement with you.

I discovered how time is circular in some cultures.

The wheel of time or Kalachakra.

There is not a single beginning or a single end, but things happen in a cycle.

Doing movement creates space too.

An encounter with an unknown object where

the object changes all the time, and so does

my interaction with it.

The objects

are co-dancers,

dialogue partners, character entities,

              in carrying out my experiments.

                      These objects have a will of their own.

   What could a space be that has a will of its own?

Like these objects were catalysts to

                    create change for me and

the spectator,

what kind of a catalyst

                           could a space need

                            to change? 

These experiments were an investigation of:

How to engage with material, space, body in space?

How to be in a space?

How a certain material or object dictates your behaviour within the space?

Building costumes that allowed for  objects to protrude from her body, Rebecca Horn moved about wearing these objects in attempt to "Explore the equilibrium between body and space."

The material form of the object in this

lived experience becomes ever-shifting

by interaction with the bodies in space.

This space included the immediate surroundings

but also extended physical and social space

and that is where the spectator and I

negotiated being together.

The notion of kinesphere was created by Rudolf Laban to define: “the sphere around the body whose periphery can be reached by easily extended limbs without stepping away from that place which is the point of support when standing on one foot”

This spherical space is also the first area of movement exploration before going into “space”.

Visibly speaking the kinesphere stays invisible until the moment we move within it and make it tangible by leaving our trace-forms, the spatial consequences of our movements.

I woke up early this morning

Little bit of light was peeping from under the curtain. 

I open the curtain and the window behind it.

I feel the draft of the winter morning.

My feet, they were cold.

I move them just a little

To get comfortable with what is ahead.

I take a deep breath and blow the air out into the foggy morning

I smell the fragrance of my mother’s morning prayers. 

I went to the balcony of my house

The sky its always there

That day the sky was littered with the cloudy trails left behind by airplanes

Criss crossing each other 

It reminds me of the sound that wheels of the luggage makes

leaving traces on the carpet at the airport.

I gather all my belongings,

All that I hold, wear, carry

And I started walking.

The ground was a little wet

Because It had rained last night.

It rains a lot here.

Sometimes it doesn’t stop for days.

I was walking on the street of my neighbourhood

Lined by uneven earthen walls

So narrow that you can’t not touch the other person’s clothes when you walk.

Its almost like a dance to navigate between people, 

They turn and turn like a labyrinth.

 My gaze went to a large gulmohar tree with red flowers that fall every now and then on the road

I stand under it for sometime just wishing one would fall on me.

I think the fragrance comes from all the footsteps walking over the fallen flowers.

I am sweating.

My breath is faster now

The sky is orange

And the earth is cracking 

With the heat of a peak summer

So bright my eyes can’t see anymore

I watched the bubbles float into the sky.

It is followed by my hopes, floating out into the space in its own magic bubble as if, for a few seconds, its fate depended on that of me, this nervous entity. 

For the duration of the bubble's life I was outside myself, as if the little orb's survival depended on remaining encased in an attention that floated out with it. 

But even when, immersed in the eager supervision of me, it was allowed to drift through space for a wonderful while, it still had to vanish into nothingness in the end. 

In the place where the orb burst, I was left alone for a moment, as if we had embarked on a shared expedition only to lose my partner halfway. 

There was a solidarity between the soap bubble and me that excludes the rest of the world. 

And each time the shimmering entities drift into the distance, I, its creator exit my body on the ground to be entirely with the objects I called into existence. 

These orbs encased my breath and this breath gets granted a momentary after-life. While the bubbles move through space, I am truly outside myself- with them and in them. 

This bubble and I coexist in this open space and the zone between the eye and the object transforms into an animated sphere.

I am seeking this animated sphere.

(Theory by Peter Sloterdijk, Bubbles & Spheres)