reflections, eight telling
written on the morning after the telling
i arrived at the festival with less time to prepare than usual. i was frustrated, emotional. i sat for my daily meditation, 15 minutes of peace on top of the rock overlooking the lake. tears streamed down my face like that water pours from mimir's horn down odin's throat, introducing into the story a sense of cool sobriety.
i do not think i was crying. i was weeping.
the second definition of weeping, according to the Mac-native Dictionary app, is to exude liquid. that's what i was doing, i was exuding. according to the same Dictionary app, to exude means to discharge slowly and steadily.
later in the evening, when i was home alone, finally alone, thinking back upon my week, i asked myself: what was it about this week that made me so tired? sure, i had a nerve extracted from a root of my tooth for the first time in my life this thursday, which was stressful more than it was painful. but that doesn't explain it. the stress and the pain is not of the kind, the type, the sense, the tone thaat is at the root of this tiredness. this tiredness feels differently.
in my mind's eye, my week disintegrates into the matrix-like structure. bits and pieces of information flying around me like bees, connected with each other through song and dance only they can hear and read. i do not need to be able to read their dances and hear their songs. i see their movements and extract my own meanings, wonderings, musings.
a pattern begins emerging.
at the festival, the conversation developing between me and my colleagues concerns logistics and logistics alone. if i'm talking about art and artistic practice, i'm talking to visitors, members of the public. here and there, a memory pops up of a collegial conversation about art, mine, yours. these conversations remain faint. they are not superficial, but we are not losing ourselves in them, either.
i am tired because at the end of this week i am not an artist. i am an activist and a researcher, interested in the specific ways organisational strategies do not only evidence the existence of underlying power structures, but help define the power structures' quality or kind.
i am tired because i've spent time and energy doing what i wasn't supposed to be doing. my job was to tell a story, to document the telling, to reflect on my developing practice, and to repeat that process on a daily basis. which is what i did. i've done my job. i should rest now.
i am tired because i'm gathering evidence for an essay i am not writing, for a research i am not developing. which is why i only have my brain to store this data in. and my brain is full. as is my todo list. i should rest now.
i think of odin in this moment. this creature who is as old as time itself when time itself is young, this creature who looks like gandalf but behaves like spring, this man who could have been a woman, were his story written down by somebody else at another time. then i think of mimir saying to odin, "vision is the stuff of experience." and i close my eyes, happy that i can experience thought. i am tired because i traveled far this week. tired means good today.