Lighter still

reflex

About a week ago I was seeing Pia Lindy‘s performance Raw. She was dancing and talking and music was improvised by Jerzy Zywuszcza. I have seen Pia a lot so it was no surprise that she is good. I’ve also seen Pia and Jerzy work together so it was no surprise that they’re good. Nevertheless I was so pleasantly, well not surprised but… they’re just so good. Timings, presence (whatever that is), listening, really brilliant work. I haven’t seen that for a while.

Performance was actually in two pieces, first piece was Pia talking and showing a video piece, where she asked some politics few questions, like: What movement comes to your mind from word, life? etc.
Then there was a small brake, and then the actual (for me) performance.

Anyway, on this brake I thought about this question and.

When movement stops?
What is movement? Beginning – end?
What is life?
What is death?

Life is alwasy moving, even when we are still there is always pulse of breath and heart and couple of other things. Probably bunch of other things but heart and breath are the easiest to note.
So life equals movement? Movement equals life?
When I die the movement seem to stop, but it doesn’t, on a microlevel there is movement happening all the time, decaying starts, worms move in, or incase being burned flames move in… movement all the time.
So there is no death, but if there is no death, how could there be life?

Planets keep moving all the time, suns keep burning until they don’t and then they’re not suns anymore.
But movement keeps on going.

So what is life?
To live is to perceive
To die is to stop perceiving?
What perceives?
Who/what stops perceiving?

There is no death, only movement. Everything that ever was, will be something else. Everything that ever is will be something else. Everything that ever will be, will be something else. Everything ever is, will be. Everything’s the same.

So why worry?
Jesus said something like this: Look at the birds of the sky, they don’t sow or reap or harvest. And still they’re taken care of, don’t you think that god loves you more than little birds? So why worry.

Although I think, god doesn’t love me, or us, more than birds, but I also think Jesus knew this, he was just trying to make a point. But then, what the hell I know what he though, or even said. And please don’t think that you know either.

Why worry?
I know that I worry because I try not to worry.
And I worry.


Today I was at the party. It’s hard to meet people, for me. I haven’t decided it, it just is. Clarification, new people. And sometimes things or thoughs or talk just take off. Not today. But it’s ok. I’ve been hoping to meet some new people, and then when I have the chance do I meet them? But it’s ok.


Vaster than empires and more slow.

Piece by piece it all comes together, and I see it was together all along. I divide, I separate. Piece’s are created by me, not reality.

Notion on the previous post River.
I think I said this but anyway.
My perception of the time is Real time.
The time of the clock is illusion, unreal.
My time is reality.
Is there a shared reality?
I think there is shared illusion.
It’s enough, it’s ok.

Perception doesn’t divide anything in to piece’s, it’s my identity, me who does it.
Slightly difficult to grasp these differencies? Right? Words are piece’s, illusions play. Reality can never be revealed by words, but they might give some clues.

This we all know.


I still feel sadness.

Ringing in my ears


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