Dear Sad Dancer
Dear Journey Man
As I am on my way to meet you, these thoughts are running through my mind…
The day is bathed with a rose like sheer. Soft but still blinding. It gives me comfort to remember, that I am not my eyes. Soon I will get to know you.
I will collect the sound of passing through – overcoming distance, steps, whistles, rhythmic rumble. All these sounds given by time, when moving through space. They will carry me there.
I am The Playmate. I am a kind of clown. The kind that want to remind us of the child within. The clown is stumbling, maybe falling – but always rising again. Wanting to create space for Serious Play, celebrating curiosity, all feelings allowed. In the playground I want to…
Today the students in the genre project were given secrets and little personal pieces of the puzzles that will become their writings. The cardboard Indan woman performed the ceremony. She is a cardboard indian because she has old scraps of paper in stead of Buffalo skins, she has paper and…