“Minimal movement is stillness, a beautiful word. Stillness isn’t static. Stillness is alive, quivering.” *Timothy Morton: Appearance is War
In the beginning of the semester for a few days we were listenning to, measuring and tuning with three bridges of Prague in a workshop with norvegian scenographer Jakub Oredsson. https://jakoboredsson.com/
They suffered. They cried. They bled. They cried on stage and behind. They cried while everyone listened. They cried so much. They cried themselves helpless. They tried to continue to talk while crying. They tried to stop crying to be able to talk. They continued to cry. They continued to talk. They continued to suffer and then it got better for a while.
Butter and summer and flies.
Skin and sheets and lies.
Outcompeting each other with sexy red panties.
Eating almonds for lunch.
Sweating. Under the armpits, on the forehead, behind the ears. On the back, on the breast, below the belly, between the legs, in the kneecalves, on the feet, between the butt cheeks.
When are you burning me, or shall I burn you first? Baby, we are on fire!
When you pee on a dog while it is peeing, how will it react?
I was just wondering if she had heard them scream. Her eyes didn’t tell. Her eyes kept every secret.
He was so intimidated by the aggressive dancing, he knew it was just meant to be fun, but he didn’t know how to react, he didn’t know how to enjoy himself. He got afraid and started to wash the cups.
These trousers have seen so many legs, these trousers have felt so many bodies.
While the answers grow week, the questions grow strong.
Lights in the wood, graves on the ground. A living lake and the trees still standing.
If nobody comes we are fine. We are just fine. We will be by ourselfes and we will continue to have fun. We have had fun before and we will be having it. We are strong and autonomous. We are determined and independent. At least we have strawberries. At least we have whipped cream. At least we have rose bubbly.
For all posts related to this research please go to: https://distantdramaturgies.tumblr.com/tagged/whereittookme
by Levin Eichert
just a little bit. i promise i won't try to escape. please, can you sting me, i am begging you. you can use me as a space. you can walk on me, sit on me or just hang out on me.
I wish you would suck my blood.
please attack me. bite me. eat me.
first observe me and then chase me.
or you can just ignore me while I wish you would suck my blood.
please, lay your eggs onto me. please lay your eggs into me.
please, hang out on me. please hang out inside of me.
will you kill me?
I wish you would suck my blood.
can you please parasite me? you can transmit any disease to me that you want.
Memories of the light blue wallpaper in a faraway holiday lodge.
Not knowing what to do and when. Not knowing if everyone is just waiting for it to start or if the interest has faded already.
Talking about architecture is easy. Most people have opinions on it. But does it really get you anywhere?
A bruise actually is a body too shy to bleed.
And they turn to the edges trying to get free. They try to stretch the tissue until it becomes thin and translucend. They aim for a world bigger than what they imagined before. The look out for bluer skies and thicker earth. For light without compromise and a start that is a start.
Red dots. Small red dots wandering.
What is a family? What are babies?
Anything I could say to those people would just be misunderstood as a cynical comment.
Is he just afraid or is there more to it?
The moment, when is this fucking moment.
She wanted a home but she cannot find any. She wanted to stay but she keeps wandering.
Compression is for making dense.
Bellies come in different sizes. Some of them are bouncy.
For all posts related to this research please go to:
https://distantdramaturgies.tumblr.com/tagged/whereittookme
by Levin Eichert
theartofmadeline
amandla
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
yousharknotpass