This story is to be continued, you need to know that right from the start.
The day we met. The day things changed. The day things changed again. The day I wasn't sure where to put my hands. The day a friend emerged from the water and said take me with you but you can't keep me forever.
Moments of connecting deeply with a place can look weird and certainly to be witnessed is a vulnerable thing.
I'm currently leading a group of creative practitioners through self-guided practices at the intersection of place and creative body-mind. The arts we are cultivating defy contemporary middle class capitalistic culture on a number of levels. In fact, I can perhaps thank that culture for the fuel of lift-off that seems to burn hot behind my thrall. I run to my Place to create and hold a more nutritive space than I ever thought possible between myself and the world.
Where and exactly how do you belong? What are the forces that give shape to your face, the sounds that echo in your voice, the forces that weather your hands into soft pebbles?