Tuesday, February 12, 2008
whispering into the well
When I try to think of the ways that I find inspiration from, I have to go to a place of wordless movements, and quiet droplets. It is an elusive connection to my deeper self that I try to bridge the gap with in my self. It is a mediation.
Music often time guides that other self, that deeper quiet self of no words, of pure expression, and movement to the surface. Pulling it gently out of the dark depths of which I stand cautiously looking down, into the immense dark swirling waters. Music coaxes delicately that side of me, so elusive to respond and stir and make its languid way to the surface.
Staring down, listening, I catch out of the corner of my eye its forms and quiet nature moving under the dark waters. I feel whispers and droplets of its movements and intent, sliding along my skin. I collect those drops, carry them undisturbed carefully with me, and attempt to create what it was, what I felt, and what I heard, as that elusive form once again slides quietly away in to the dark depth of my self.