New routes and dust ..
a large empty space has appeared in the centre of the church. The floor is a carpet of dust pulling the sound beneath it like a quietening sheet. New lines are revealed, all leading to the edge..
I try to resist the urge to skip around it, but may not..
dust collects on the soles of my feet…a new field today.
I am able to walk in a wider circle. Labyrinths, crop circles..tracings..
My feet become cold. I think of ice, ice shoes, ice in churches, and watching Marina Abramovic’s seated performance amongst ice blocks and snakes..
quiet boundaries, holding breath.
and in comes a fly..just me and a fly.
