Lying in the Hole

Dear J: I spent most of yesterday, very unfortunately, in the hole. I blamed this on a wide myriad of things; the man who was supposed to fix my bike on time but didn't, resulting in several journeys to his shop (which I took a slightly sick pleasure in doing each time). You, for not picking my bike up for me. The silly people who I was trying to contact relating to work. My computer for taking so much time to install an update (which I had chosen for it to do). An acquaintance for calling me at various points in the day and distracting me; it appears that he was a hole of his own.

Another day of not feeling particularly present. My refusal of responsibilty for my hole only made me sink deeper.
I am going to attempt to brush aside the remenants of irritation at this, as the end of last week in fact was surprsingly productive.
I managed finally to shoot with my friend, and although my months of sloth have left me with a somewhat rusty body, we still managed to produce some fruitful results. I think it was more about making that first step towards something bigger that seemed important that day, not the immediate offspring of those few hours of making and doing. I felt at points frustrated with the limitations of my own body and I think my collaborator experienced similar feelings of anger towards his camera too. With the light running out and both of us feeling fatigued, we started making mistakes, and thus agreed that we had done enough for the day. I'm looking forward to seeing some of the results and where this might be taken next. The next hardest thing though apart from bullying, threatening, bribing and scaring oneself into starting something is to then maintain the momentum for it to continue and grow.
Tomorrow is mine. I have set aside the day to train, to read and to take responsibility for my hole. I like to imagine myself gingerly finding my way up the side of the hole; foot, hand, foot, foot, hand, foot. Not hauling myself up as I suspect that I might be more susceptible to fall with a heavy thud.

earthquake

dear G

this will have to be short - its 2Am and I need to get sleep...

2 things - drinking is not a method for lifting oneself out of a hole, in fact it serves only to keep you in the hole as you have to recover the next day. Also, it would appear that some aggressive characteristics came out in me when i was inebriated and I fear that this is a reflection of some frustration on my part. So - fighting your way from a hole also does not work.

A negative, agreed - so, now a positive; working on my computer tonight for this project of perhaps dubious content (robbie williams and dizzee rascal back to back with the BBC orchestra and smoky robinson) - i have found a renewed excitement for creating. I like what I have created and it excites me to see the final product. I am lifted from the hole and can see lights and movement. I am excited by the future prospect of my new studio, the rearrangement of my working space and the ambition to create all the things that are in my mind.

To conclude - i think sometimes I need to be overly destructive in order to begin being constructive again. I cannot start from a standstill - I need to be catapulted. Or maybe I need an earthquake to properly build a new castle.

I can't remember who said it (... I think it was William Morris), but he said " rubble often makes the best building material).

can't wait to see you in your nest. xx

Dear J: I am in physical pain. My inner thighs burn and my chest feels as though someone has tried to spread my ribs apart with their bare hands. Whilst doing class today I was thinking a lot. A continuous back chat, sometimes directly related to digesting a particular movement; working out how something should feel if I was executing it in the right way and sometimes completely random thoughts like worrying about the logistics of Friday. I remembered how a ballet teacher had once told me to stop fucking thinking (about the movement) and just do it. That doesn't mean to approach something without thinking, moreover to not disect until there is nothing left that is of any use.

During an after-class drink which consisted of two stiff whiskeys over ice, I brushed on the subject of holes. I realised that holes had affected my teacher as well at various points in his life (not concrete ones though) and that his holes usually arose as a result of an overdose of inner dialogue. The more he thought, the deeper the hole.

I also tried to broach the subject of holes with a friend at lunch, sitting in the formica and faux leather booths at The Fryers Delight. He however was more interested in eating the fish and chips on his plate, as well hoping that I wouldn't notice him eating the rest of my lunch as I became lost in my hole speak.

I'm going to try and do more doing. I want to feel ready to move and thus be present. Feeling present requires you to approach things instinctively, with less time to ponder and muse and further down the line to sometimes unravel, with just a pile of crinkled dirty wool to show for your efforts.

First step though is to get to grips with that rule number one: get up immediately when alarm sounds. I still managed to eventually haul myself out of my bed-hole half an hour later.

colliding into a concrete wall

slow motion stop
the anger wells inside
keep on building walls
but they don't make a home
four walls with five corners
accelerated colliding stop

acclivity

Dear G

I lay in my concrete hole this morning and listened to Womens Hour. Shirley Williams MP was being interviewed and talked about 'climbing the books' - an account of how her mother and father encouraged her to reach her grandest ambitions in life by being treated equal to them and her brother. She was encouraged to read voraciously and expand her mind. She said that a girl's father generally provides the ceiling for how far a woman can climb in life and how much to reach for. The mother provides stability.

Considering how far Dame Shirley had reached I thought that her father must have been a very strong minded man and that before I become a father I should ensure never to creep into a concrete hole and instead build something out of my concrete. A hole is only a pit with which to build a foundation.

She also spoke of one of early parliamentary duties - to vet pornography in order to deem what was suitable for consumption. In the 70's, english pornography was state sanctioned which I found hard to believe given the sexual revolution that England had just experienced. She described her weekends; bringing home a stack of porn and 'reading' it. At first she found it intriguing but after a short while states that she felt sorry for men that consumed it - she said that using pornography was a sign of failure - failure to know what a real relationship between man and woman was and failure to grasp reality.

After hearing this I considered whether or not I was a failure. I admit that I felt that I was, though also felt that because I am aware of it and able to judge myself then I have the ability to not be so. I, as all people do themselves, have the capacity to regulate my thoughts and actions. Being in control of these actions provides me with the tools to build up and away from a concrete hole. And more than that - for I feel that relegating myself to a hole is not entirely fair - it provides the means with which to have belief in yourself.

I then rose from my hole, though admittedly only after a knock at the door which made me feel guilty for lying in bed, and made a cup of tea. I am now preparing myself for a day of sorting, organising and clearing the ground for my ascension in life.

J