Beidh an cladach a shealbhú dúinn.
Nothing can be seen to match the rapidity of the thoughts which the mind produces and Initiates .
The mind is swifter than anything which the nature of our eyes allows them to see.
I held your hand. (ĭ-nĭsh′ē-āt′)
Holding your barnacles.
Take me to the sea.
Take me to a place so deep that even the waves will not disturb us.
The wanderer.
He who has come only in part to a freedom of reason cannot feel on earth otherwise than as a wanderer-though not as a traveler towards a final goal, for this does not exist. But he does want to observe, and keep his eyes open for everything that actually occurs in the world; therefore he must not attach his heart too firmly to any individual thing; there must be something wandering within him, which takes its joy in change and transitoriness. To be sure, such a man will have bad nights, when he is tired and finds closed the gates to the city that should offer him rest; perhaps in addition..
The seashore will hold us.
Perhaps it will only let us drift further into a realm of the unknown.
Our emotions will not be canned. No words or language for this moment.
the failure of our tongues. we become as fish.
We fall in.
For all dreams are muddled in the grasp of helping you to cross the road.
——-
This video is a part of wider series of initial explorations for ULANDiv Performance Series; Denmark June 2014 and forms a visual notebook of the experience of body as it traverses landscape. For more information about this project please email beatricemaryjarvis@googlemail.com
With thanks to Pam Jarvis and Bob Jarvis.
Urban re:passages 