i dragged myself to the floor. cynical and jaded i faced the fear of performing live again. the past months has been a constant struggle with the necessity to be present here in this space living out a vicarious love long forgone. i didnt expect tonight to be anything than the usual experience. and though i have been bitching last couple of days about the condition of this new collaborative endeavor i found myself glad to find something last night onstage. the long and constant dialogue with the dance and its presence. making all possible combinations of losing myself to an unfolding architecture made out of abstract spatial problems. as i abandoned 'emotions' as raw material for work, moving into rather wider motivations of dancing i have found it even more difficult to be 'moved' yet the desire to persist keeps on. for sure there is something else outside emotional expressions. dance can and provides a link for communication and dis/integration. our performances should be able to provoke and intervene in the everyday landscape of unnoticable events. Toppling the status quo. like little anarchist birds fluttering about creating chaos, spreading chaos.
today is Jose Rizal day. (he dies again for us, good for him) i learned last night that in Fumadero street, Jose Rizal was the first Filipino to get stoned. Indeed, he knew how to live!
*photos by Brendan Goco
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