Summer rains...
Movement research at The Watermill Center for Performance, NY. July, 2011.
When I was doing this project I had to walk about 2 miles back to my sleeping place and one summer evening the most intense storm rolled in. Before I was halfway home the storm had opened up on me. Lightening and thunder merged into a singular eruption like some cosmic tear in the universe. I had to run for cover with all my camera and computer equipment hiding in the carports and overhangs of vacant summer homes. I never in my life thought I would be struck by lightening until that day. The storm seemed to be following me, moving back and forth across my path. I was convinced it would hit me once I got out into the clearing. It seemed to be leaving, heading east until it pivoted and started to back track right towards me, now out of the woodlands, exposed on the the road. Am I the tallest thing around, like some human lightening rod? oh god yes, walk faster! I quickened my pace and tried to think of the odds. My luck just wouldn't have it. Looking over my shoulder the storm was indeed heading back towards me. How much further? Finally a dark brown sedan pulled over and took me the rest of the way to the artists house. I handed the driver 15 dollars cash I think and then ran inside, dropped my equipment bags and stood dripping in the kitchen, feeling relieved and electric. For a second I thought I had been struck by lightening owing to my frenetic state. My skin tingled. Heat seemed to emanate from my insides. But as my breathing slowed and I felt a coolness spread from my still wet hair down my back I was just grateful and amazed at the fact that weather had such a hold on me. Something much bigger than me and or any human project. I could feel small and powerless but instead I feel held in some enormous, cosmic entity. We can't control it though by now we know we have made some mortal mistakes in our careless pursuits. But that summer reminds me of how it felt as a child, in awe of the night set blazing white by a heavenly crack and rumble. May we continue to be held in this place by gravity and gratitude.