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3:15pm

Every day at 3:15pm, do a dance. Document the thing you experienced, as best as you can. Whether that is a feeling, a place, or a movement. Like recognizing a wave that you are already riding-- what is happening now, what does it do to you, and what do you do to it? This is some of what comes up for us.

Marysia
this is from me to you

March 25

I am talking to Carmichael's mum. First I straighten my back, just a small adjustment, I don't think anyone can notice. I move my toes. I see Meg sitting on the floor with her baby boy. I make a walk to the small green block that is left in the middle of the space from the rehearsal, which has just finished. I bring the block to the stack of green blocks. I keep listening to the conversation. It is about fish on the good friday, that she ate because fish was fresh on fridays in her neighborhood, not because they were catholic. I move towards Meg's phone. I ask "should I press X or ZZZ?" I increase the size of my gestures in about 3%.

March 23


Walking on the street with Jozio, I stretch my right leg for a second longer than necessary as we cross the street. Then I walk sideways as much as we walk forward. "Why are we changing places all the time" asks Jozio. Because I am constantly changing from being on his right side to being on his left side. "To have some fun." I reply. We keep playing changing sides and hopping (jumping?) on different lines and pavement squares of different colors.

March 22

March 18

March 17

March 14

March 12

March 10

March 8

March 4

March 3

March 2

March 1

February 29

February 28

In 3:15 I often do the first thing available. My practice is to catch the first impulse and follow it for as long as I can sustain the situation. This dance is the first one filmed by Jozio, my son, during our Sunday walk.

February 27

February 26

February 24

February 23

February 22

February 21

In the ACME supermarket I find it quite familiar to be caught between this aisles. I have done this before. Except now, when I am shopping with my son and my mother here, I don’t feel so displaced and alien. I take 3 steps sideways, along the shelf crossing my legs. I am much more confident. Not confident enough to dance but confident enough to take photos of myself in this strange place.

February 19

February 18

February 16

February 15

February 14

February 13

February 12

February 11

February 8

February 7

The alarm goes off in the dark corridor. It is my mother’s birthday today and we gathered in my house. Everyone is in the kitchen. I go to switch the alarm off. I stay in the dark corridor and I begin to move. I put my hands on the furniture. I look at my body. I slow down my movements from the everyday. It is dark. I am in the dark. I am in a private space where I can move. Short dance but longer then in the last few days. Today movement is my space of uncompromised freedom. I stop when I hear my son asking in the kitchen: Where is mom?

February 6

I walk on Mokotowska Street. I video walking on different surfases of pavement. There is no space on my phone anymore. I continue walking and stoping on different shapes in different speed, untill I forget I was doing it, somewhere close to the Apteka on Zbawiciela Sq.

January 31

January 25

Another 3:15 when I mix food on a stove as the alarm goes on. I am at Magda’s place. We heat our lunch with her and Marta. Magda says: Are you going to do your dance now. I say: Yes. She asks: Are you going to do it here or will you lock yourself in the toilet to have some privacy? I answer something like "We will see”. Something happens and it makes our minds shifts to another subject. I forget to dance.

January 20

January 13

January 11

January 10

January 9

January 8

January 5

January 3

January 1

December 31

December 30

December 29

December 27

December 26

December 25

December 23

December 21

December 19

December 18

December 17

December 15

December 14

December 13

December 12

December 11

December 10

December 7

December 6

December 5

December 3

December 2

December 1

November 30

November 29

November 28

November 27

November 26

November 25

November 24

November 23

November 22

November 21

November 20

November 19

November 18

November 17

November 16

November 15

November 13

November 12

November 11

November 9

November 8

November 7

November 5

November 4

November 3

November 2

October 30

October 28

October 26

Kristel
these are like waves

March 18

March 16

March 6

March 4

March 2

March 1

February 29

February 28

February 27

February 25

February 24

February 22

February 21

February 18

February 15

February 13

February 12

February 11

February 10

February 9

February 8

February 7

February 6

February 5

February 4

February 3

February 1

January 31

January 29

email me
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January 28

January 26

January 24

January 23

January 21

January 19

January 18

January 15

January 14

January 13

January 10

January 8

January 7

January 6

January 4

January 3

December 29

December 28

December 27

December 25

December 24

December 22

December 21

December 20

December 18

December 17

December 16

December 13

December 12

December 11

December 10

December 9

December 8

December 7

December 5

December 4

December 3

December 2

December 1

November 30

November 29

November 28

November 27

November 25

November 23

November 22

November 21

November 20

November 18

November 17

November 16

November 15

November 14

November 13

November 11

November 10

November 9

November 8

November 7

November 6

November 5

November 4

November 3

November 2

October 31

I was sitting against the mirrors in a UArts dance studio, watching our students perform works-in-progress. When 3:15 sounded, I reached my arm and touched the metal border of the mirror. I wanted the dance to be discrete. I traced the metal as far as my arm’s reach, while looking and watching what was in front of me.

October 29

October 27

October 26

October 25

October 24

I was in the restaurant, Little Nonna’s, sharing a late lunch/early dinner with a friend. My alarms goes off and I tell her that I need to make a dance. She joins me as we play with arm movements as disco-esque music plays in the background. We stay sitting and keep eye contact. My arms rise up and lay on the table as she tilts to the side like an airplane and right hand makes contact with her right temple. She starts to rub her right temple with her fingertips as her hand is positioned in a kind of salute. We then find ourselves, together, gradually moving upright to indicate the completion of our duet.

October 23

In the hallway of the School of Dance office. Working on a 10 year review of the school. My alarm goes off and I tell my director, “I need to make a dance right now.” I play with the restricted boundaries of the hallway trying to make direct and insistent movement. I recall and moment when I was lightweight sinking down to the ground slowly.

Meg
my body in proximity

March 14

Every document fails. And what is it I’m trying to document?

Dances seem to exist in context in one of two ways - as part of what’s already transpiring OR as a departure from… but what about the space in between? Or beginning in one place and coming to the other? I do not believe in binaries.

I am sitting with Thomas talking about the challenges of this project. I want to dance with him, I want to have fun and be lively. I am so tired of having my alarm go off and be sitting in front of my computer. This is not where I want to dance.

I have an image of myself getting up and pounding my forearm and fist against the wall into a dancerly Greecian freize. I do not do it.

I quiet. I rotate just so to the right. I look at Thomas rubbing his hands on his thighs. We are both quiet. I trace the space between my body and my desk, gradually dislocating the lines from the points of origin until it is just a zig zag, “just” a switching of the wrist, an action inside a form. I love this feeling.

My chair rolls. I roll it. I shift my knees to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right. Deliberate. Tentative. Like trying on clothes. Somehow my hand ends up, palm splayed and declarative. Now, to that wall.

I rotate to look at Thomas. He is deep in his own dance I think. Or it’s over and he is on to documentation. Hard to tell. I reach my arms long, top of head pressed against the wall behind me, and tap and wave long fingers down down down. A gesture towards my keyboard, where I came from.

And then, with my weight under me, the moment of submersion, the moment where the dance “starts.” The space between my knees is voluminous. My fingers drape towards each other and hold space for my knee to wave. There is a freedom here, perhaps because now I am fully away from the computer, the context, and completely within my own motor. I let the energy move up and through me, and it is my body, it is me that engages and directs, comfortable with the edges not having form but coming apart as I approach them.

There was “dancing” in there that I’m not describing. Because it was that feeling, that shift of my embodied reality, that held me and then allowed me to dance next to my computer, feel satisfaction, and then let it go.

March 13

March 8

March 6

March 1

February 29

February 27

February 25

February 22

February 20

February 18

February 16

February 13

February 12

February 11

February 9

February 8

notice where you are standing.
what lines in space do you feel in particular relationship to?
press your feet down.
activate that relationship further.
rotate right and look up.
raise your right arm and splay your right hand.
notice the light on your palm, the back of your hand silhouetted.
take a mental picture.
stare at your right hand and feel your left fingers moving.

February 7

February 3

February 2

February 1

January 30

January 26

Rachel is styling my hair for a photo. It starts with my fingers, and I want to move much bigger. Drop from beneath her hands and step into the open salon, but the restriction of the dance being held is really satisfying. I press my shoulder blades down, release them a little up, press them down, release them a little up, feeling the agitation as they shift. I'm very aware of the movement in my face and do a little prance with my feet. Rachel finishes, and I'm free. I turn and touch the wall, put my arms out, kick my leg, but it's useless. It is a relief but it feels untethered so I let it fizzle out.

January 24

January 23

January 21

January 20

January 19

January 18

January 16

January 15

January 14

January 13

January 12

January 10

January 9

fits and starts
one pose and then dissolution
I can’t decide if anyone notices - if I want them to notice - if I care if they notice
my hands are intentional, shaping space above Cadence’s head
three babies converging on my lap
each moment is made of helium, barely suspended outside what’s already happening
what’s inside what’s happening?
three babies converging on my lap
no space to think
a circle of parents
I don’t want to leave this moment
I’ll let this be it
legs in a V
soles of feet flat on the floor
the arches like bridges, lifted, marking the presence of intention
an elbow turned in
and dropped

January 8

January 7

January 5

January 4

January 3

December 31

December 29

December 28

December 27

December 25

December 24

December 20

December 18

December 17

December 16

December 15

December 14

December 9

December 4

December 2

November 25

November 22

November 21

November 18

November 13

November 12

November 10

November 9

November 8

November 6

November 5

October 29

October 27

October 26

October 25

October 24

October 23

Annie
that song is stuck in my head

March 28

March 27

March 25

March 24

March 21

March 19

March 18

March 17

March 16

March 15

March 14

March 10

March 9

March 6

March 4

March 2

February 29

February 26

February 25

February 22

February 20

February 18

February 17

February 15

February 14

February 13

February 12

February 10

February 9

February 8

February 7

February 5

February 3

February 2

February 1

January29

January 28

January 27

January 26

January 24

January 22

January 20

January 19

January 18

January 16

January 15

January 14

January 13

January 12

January 11

January 9

January 8

January 7

January 6

January 5

January 4

January 3

January 2

December 30

December 29

December 28

December 27

December 26

December 25 - 22

December 21

December 20

December 18

December 17

December 16

December 15

December 14

December 13

December 12

December 11

December 10

December 9

December 7

December 5

December 4

December 3

December 2

December 1

November 28

November 27

November 26

November 25

November 24

November 22

November 21

November 20

November 19

November 18

November 16

November 15

November 14

November 13

November 12

November 11

November 10

November 9

November 8

November 7

November 6

November 5

November 4

November 3

November 2

October 31

October 30

October 27

October 26

Doing computer work in my dining room. Immediately pop out of my chair and slither with my feet past the narrow hall between chair and kitchen counter. Arms outstretched again. Something I do. In the center of the apartment. Mary comes out of her room. I tell her what’s going on and she immediately joins in. Firstly, she has much more stamina than I do. My solos are usually about 10 minutes, and we went for 20 easily. duet with her, in our apartment, was so great. Felt enlivened, felt everything become a little more alive, I could see things more clearly. The place is a mess. Mary grabbed material and started to compose with it, repetition, variation, counterpoint.

I knew I didn’t want to do that. but then also had a hard time finding a motor. How could that be possible?! I love dancing in my home. Hard to figure- I feel like I’m noodling, playing drums for the first time! Fun. New. Flipping over and over slowly on the love seat. Laying out on the futon. Level changes. We both stand on chairs a lot, and hit our heads on the pitched ceilings often. Love the hallway to our bedrooms. We read Walt Whitman out loud- the song of the universal. I am a little roving, meaning-making machine. I stick my head out the front door and close it. Mary is still moving, hesitantly. We really do two solos in the room. It’d be great one day to do a duet. I call an end. We don’t physically high-five, but that is the feeling we both acknowledge. I t was a high-five worthy experience.

October 25

Literally in the middle of pooping when the reminder went off. So it began with pooping. Feeling all those rectal, anal muscles/sphincter working, thinking about how there was something leaving me that used to be a part of me. Or maybe it never was a part of me, it just went from food to poop without being “me” ever. Just a visitor, passing through. Like Reggie, the cat who had just died whose death we were mourning downstair at Ashley’s. Wiping my butt.
Wiggling my hips. That’s my default I guess. Turning to the open window → anyone in any of the houses I could see could also see me, pants down. I don’t know what this means about my predilection for nudity in performance.

Arms outstretched in a V. Elbows bend, swivel to the side. Pull up my pants. Buckle the buckle. Reach to the four upper corners of the room. Wash my hands. Dry my hands. The room is blue and white. It’s very New England. It’s very steely, Atlantic Ocean. there’s soap scum on the sink. Everything is sad.

Put my hand on the doorknob, walk out into the hall. End. Go downstairs.

October 24

Alarm went off and I saw it. At Lucky 13. Started swinging my hips to the music. Very simple. The sort of dance I do when I’m very tired at the end of the night. Swinging hips, step touch, step touch. Told Scott my coworker who was confused. Kicked my leg within three inches of his face to get him acclimated. Behind the bar, back and forth. Hips, my spatial pattern, back and forth, back and forth. Reach my hand out for $ more gracefully than I normally would. Popping lids off of beer bottles right on the beat. Continued for a solid 10 minutes, this secret-but-not secret performance. I cut limes carefully, thoughtfully. I thought I could do this til the end of my shift if I wanted. That’s the last memory I have of the dances, so it must have drifted away as soon as I was finished cutting limes.

I noticed my knees and elbows got more stiff immediately. Like that denotes a more formal “dancey” awareness.

October 23

On the phone with Rob far far away. And intense conversation. reminder goes off and I see it on my computer. I need to- what? Great. Already spacey. I had to figure out the alarm on my phone. Stay on the phone and dance. In my bedroom. Peach colored. New Christmas lights. Clothes everywhere. Stop picking up clothes. Stand where you are and don’t move my feet. Stay in the conversation and keep looking where I am . Really hard to do. Band practice starts outside. Feels like a good time to stop.