I’ve been wondering to myself what that I’ve been up to these past few days… that is, that has kept me from writing. I suppose I’ve been catching up—on sleep, on nourishment, on school work and just being more present as I emerge from this sickness I’ve been mired in so long. The cough is nearly gone now and my head is clearing, I’m feeling like this week might be the last where I’m gasping for breath in a vacuum chamber. I still feel blind as to which way is this way or that, and yet, I have feeling again in the back of my hand and I can hit it against the surface that seems to impede my progress… I can begin to feel it out.
You sent me a text and the words that stick are of course Force and Stress… This evening, a moment of silence and a glance upon the wrong image swelled into an explosion of force. Fists pounding against skin, floor, walls. The stress in my voice — rapid, and of a strength of pitch only true utterance could command… my voice tried to counter those fists and the battle was well fought and yet futile. Perhaps this battle has been waging all the while somewhere inside of me and in the conversations I like to keep secret, and at the furtive meetings of which I am ashamed. Perhaps this battle is what has been clouding up my line of sight.
And yet I think of the dizzy swell in my head after spinning and spinning and spinning into your catch—or was it tackle?—the other day… and how despite the dizziness, all was so clear. So clear in the working and the making and the feeling. I need to get back to Aline and Eero and read and reread. I need to spend some time with my Pas de Deux, digging deeper. I need to continue—as I did begin this second half of the week—parsing through our correspondence and others that relate, piecing together a narrative of something I’m not yet sure.
I want to say to you that I hope we continue, as long as it takes, whether I leave or not… If I am still here, I hope you will have time to keep working as we have been. If I am not here, I hope we will find a way to utilize our correspondence to craft some new kind of rehearsals at/despite great distance. I want to say to you that I meant what I said last week about not thinking that people liked me and it means a lot both artistically and just as a person that you want to work with me. I want to say that I too am in a tender mood, so if I’ve responded with too much of myself, you should know this as my vice and not be taken aback by it. I want to say I think we are on to something. I want to say I hope you think so too.