What we see, hear and feel implies a continuation of those perceptions. But sometimes things STOP, and the edges of that moment create a tension that begs to be broken or rearranged, transition zones where sound moves to silence, nothing becomes something, nonsense acquires form and language decays into noise. And the energy that it gives a performer or artist is uncategorized until the moment we dip into it and start to mold it. Gravity All senses are fighting the downward pull. Every action is a rebalancing of forces.
Every movement is a manifesto of resistance.
Each breath is a juggling of momentum and pointillistic possibilities. Gravity can equal time, or distance, or energy, or connection, expansion, implosion or fate. Gravity implies a branching out into infinity, which implies infinite freedoms, which equals weightless imagination. But meanwhile we are ingeniously tied to the earth. The mind's muscles, striated branches and probability paths, bear the chemical touch of our past experiences, open radically to smells, rearrange present moments in cascades of personal hierarchies.