Excerpts of an ongoing exchange
Week 39. (2024) / Kai & Joanna
first rain after a late-summer heat wave
the morning was relief. the clouds were relief. the lungs are expanding. still. and still. and still. across the room, across the street, across the city. across earth organs – liquid, solid, gas, plasma. I count the breath but can not count the many ways of knowing, that live inside each drop. falling, landing, nurturing.
who do we nurture?
where do we land?
how do we fall?
everything sounds so differently – without the dryness, the heat, the hiding. my tailbone is retracing the stories that were carried by the rain – all mixed up in the puddles below.
sighing with our bones becomes a way of finding polyphony
expand give back expand
I rock the world
the cradle
I carry white
I’m being lived slowly
give back expand give back expand
of space
flowers stardust
in depth together
Week 22. (2024) / John
(source of water: nearing Santiago and Buenos Aires; migrating storks, pink flamingos, ibis, wild geese, arctic terns…)
feathers coated with frost
rhythmic pulse of wings give strength and solidarity
in our flight
a call,
a ‘honk’ from a wizened old crone
LILITH REMINDS US ALL
as she guides us
since time began
on our journey
over vast ever-changing lands
over vast blue ocean
toward the floodplains of our birth
and we remember there were millions of us
as one,
flying together linked
in multiple crescent-like formation
joining with millions of others
to celebrate life in all its glory
to be born in the Garden of Eden
amongst the marshes, reed beds, floodplains
teeming with tasty edibles
…here and now…
there are only thousands of us
and our guides are becoming tired
and fewer in number
Week 16. (2024) / Małgorzata
(source of water: near Fortaleza da Arrifana, on the cliffs)
znikąd
nadchodzi potężna chmura
zamyka mnie w swoich objęciach
znika horyzont
i nawet słońce rozpływa się we mgle
czuję wilgoć na ramionach, włosach
zawieszona w powietrzu sól osiada na twarzy
chmura ~ r o z p ł y w a s i ę ~
melodia dzwoneczków miesza się z szumem fal
stado kóz wędruje wzdłuż klifu
following the advice of Apichatpong Weerasethakul
i turn into seagull
mimicking her movements, embracing freedom of flying
i’m lucky to be in the place that many can only imagine
i’m lucky to be in the place that in other times i can only remember
cultivate the memories you want to keep ~
~ seagulls flying, endless wrinkled surface of the ocean,
rocks exposing their backs to the sun
sticking out of the water, surrounded by the white foam,
strength of the plants growing where the wind blows ~
Wind from the Sea
Salt
Water
from nowhere
a mighty cloud is coming
closes me in her embrace
the horizon vanishes
and even the sun melts into fog
i feel moisture on my arms and hair
salt suspended in the air settles on the face
the cloud ~ d i s s i p a t e s ~
the melody of bells overlaps with the sound of waves
a herd of goats roams along the cliff
following the advice of Apichatpong Weerasethakul
i turn into seagull
mimicking her movements, embracing freedom of flying
i’m lucky to be in the place that many can only imagine
i’m lucky to be in the place that in other times i can only remember
cultivate the memories you want to keep ~
~ seagulls flying, endless wrinkled surface of the ocean,
rocks exposing their backs to the sun
sticking out of the water, surrounded by the white foam,
strength of the plants growing where the wind blows ~
Wind from the Sea
Salt
Water
Audio response by Kai:
Week 5. (2024) / Kai
(source of water: bottle of distilled water)
dis-solving
dis-locating
dis-integrating
or something along the lines of
displacing
disturbing
distilling
separating
categorising
whatever it takes
clearing the way
no minerals left
pure water
pure – what a word, so harsh
slicing through everything
cutting itself off
from everything else
purely
singular
a monoculture of loneliness
I put the lid back on the bottle and my hands deep in the mud
Letter response by Małgosia:
8th February 2024, Águeda, Portugal
Dear Kristina,
I’ve been reading a lot today about purity. “Purity is one of fundamental categories of valorization”, “Water offers itself as a natural symbol of purity” (Both: Gaston Bachelard, Water and Dreams. An Essay on the Imagination of Matter. Chapter 6. Purity and Purification. Water’s Morality) . I found a lot of banal thoughts (I’m still fascinated by Bachelard’s writings, but, sadly, often his words feel outdated) and nothing that would really question the idea of purity as your poem did.
Why is only pure water valued high? And what does pure really mean?
Is there any pure water really?
can we go
off and steal
the atlantic
waltz
to the end
of the earth
dotted
susurration
blued
to incoherence
we become
undrinkable
water
a frictive
memory
seething
containers
in the night
animal
unable
to swim
water
only able
to swallow
we row wider
irreducible
algae shaped
a linger
we become
a hum
another
ocean
altogether
(Night Waltz with the Ever Given, from: https://emergencemagazine.org/essay/becoming-water/)
My thoughts wandered towards authors such as Edouard Glissant (Edouard Glissant, Poetics of Relation) or introduced to me by you Alexis Pauline Gumbs (Alexis Pauline Gumbs, Dub: Finding Ceremony). Towards the articles and poems I’ve read in Emergence Magazine or on the Poetry Foundation site. Towards places such as the Mediterranean Sea, where, in 2023 only, over 2500 people died. Towards colonial history and the very recent refugee crisis. What about this water, impure with the decomposing human bodies, polluted with blood, urine, other bodily liquids? Contaminated with fear?
I rarely think of how violent water is. How many lives it took. ‘The Ocean boils with fear.’ (Du Bartas, from: G. Bachelard, Water and Dreams. Chapter 8: Violent Water.) It’s far away from being pure. But does it mean it is not sacred, is it not ‘good’? (this banal valorisation sounds really odd here).
Is the opposite of pure ‘dirty’? ‘Polluted’, ‘toxic’? Or maybe it is rather complex, diverse, heterogeneous? Thoughts about purity lead me towards the most disastrous and shameful ideas in human history. Justifications for selection and discrimination.
The deeper I’m entering into this reflection on pure water, as more terrifying the term seems to me. Instead, I want to see the blurriness of vegetation, microorganisms, the haze of salt and decomposing matter. Depths nebulous with plankton and whales’ excrements.
The impurities of water constitute its history, its multiplicity, its memory. The water dissolves, decomposes – but the substances never disappear entirely.
All we put in water, all that ends up washed in it, will stay. How much more can it contain?
a monoculture of loneliness.
i read your words and once again think about the threats of purity. mono- , singular, indiverse. out of balance. dominant. invasive. and everything else around – dead. i’m remembering the Dead Sea. the saddest sea i’ve ever seen. not a sea even. a dead body of water. on a land of death, a land of borders and divisions. a monoculture of loneliness.
(People put mud on their skin, as if it was going to bring them back to life. Purification through dirt.)
PS. You put your hands in mud, I step on it with my bare feet.
we’re treading on very uncertain ground. filled with impurities. wet and alive.
Hugging you from afar,
Małgosia
Week 1. (2024) / Kai
(source of water: a small stream running downhill)
they made you a bed and forgot to leave a mattress there
|____________________________|
you grew it yourself
I wonder how long it must have taken
infinitely thin layer of algae
down there on the concrete
but no other guests arrived
to the slumber party
and the bed stays yours alone
|_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_,_|
how do you distinguish your days
and their colours
in between all the running that you do
while you follow
the direction that the first drop
that ever fell
decided to take
her voice can still be heard
just a bit muffled, as if behind an old wall
you carry it across time
downstairs
|__._._{o}_._._._._{o}_._._._{o}_._._|
Audio response by John:
Week 51. (2023) / Małgorzata
(source of water: thinking of the river in Malinowo, visited this morning; dancing & writing alternately)
nurt rzeki płynie w dwóch kierunkach jednocześnie pod prąd
wbrew zasadom
cztery jelenie przedzierają się przez suche gałęzie rybak nadjeżdża rowerem
dzień dobry
błogość
rośliny w wodzie poddają się
bez oporu
a jednak
żyją na swoich warunkach łagodnie falując, trzymają się dna
i ja nieraz działam wbrew sobie na czyich zasadach
adaptuję się do środowiska?
the river flows in two directions at the same time against the current
against the rules
four deers break through dry branches
a fisherman is coming on a bicycle
good morning
bliss
the plants in the water give up
without resistance
and yet
they live on their own terms
gently waving, they hold to the bottom
and I sometimes act against myself on whose terms
adapting to the environment
Week 48. (2023) / Kai
(source of water: rainy train ride
I ride the train from Linz to Vienna, rain accompanies the entire drive. I write on the train. Back home I dance and write again, mixing the lines with what I have written before)
All the way. And all along. Onehundredandfiftyfive. Kilometres.
Or onehundredandfiftyfive times the attempt to keep my head above the water.
And still under the clouds. They keep stretching themselves. Over and over. Into each other. Just as we reach out. For another. We pour over. And over. Into each other.
I am wondering what the rain might know about freedom.
He has no choice but to fall down.
Maybe falling is a good practice.
Gravity, my oldest friend.
She can take things apart.
She is hugging me from inside. Like the rain hugging this metal snake. From outside.
The intensity doesn’t change.
The rain is assembling in the cracks. Or all the other places that are waiting.
To be filled. Or held. If only briefly.
I imagine how the fog tastes. Inside my elbows.
Again, I try to find the rhythm of the water.
Again, the vertical and horizontal merge.
And how the bones have arranged themselves. In just this very way. Mountains in the distance. Bodies nearby.
Every person a puddle, a pond.
An ocean. Assembling over my head.
I watch a single drop. Travelling.
Physical response by Małgorzata:
Start in a vertical position. Feel the connection of your feet with the floor and the alignment of your spine. Scan your body from the top of the head down, without rush. Imagine the inside of your body.
How are the bones arranged? How are they positioned towards each other?
After you scanned the whole body from the top to your feet, you can introduce movement.
How does the arrangement of the bones change while you’re moving?
Now imagine that all your bones are suspended in water. How does it change the quality of your movement, the inner experience of the movement?
Eventually, find yourself in a horizontal position, lying down.
Again, scan your body. How are the bones arranged now?
Similar as before standing, start moving now in the horizontal position. What’s happening to the bones? Bring back again the image of bones suspended in water, or maybe you already did.
What if now your skin dissolves and the barrier that separates you from the world disappears?
Are your bones still somehow attached to one another or are they floating freely in the vast space, maybe a giant ocean? Or a gravity force pulls them to the ground?
Explore this image within any movement you want, both vertical and horizontal.
In the end, collect your bones, let them settle inside you, let the skin and other tissues grow back around them. How do you feel now?
Week 46. (2023) / Kai
(source of water: urine sample for a medical test)
Polluted little river
how many estuaries
or impossibilities
collapsing – unbuilding – unlearning
to be transformed
translated
My body keeps translating. To translate: übersetzen. Über setzen. To ferry something. From over here, to over there. Into another language. Another organ. Without water, no translation.
useful // not useful
precious resource // waste
Physical response by Małgorzata:
Close your eyes. Is there anything that bothers you right now? Any negative thoughts, stress? Is there anything toxic that you would like to get rid of?
Or maybe is there some physical problem you’re struggling with, something that needs healing?
Pick up something and now imagine that all the organs and liquids in your body work to transform this issue, to dissolve it. To translate it to something else. The issue itself became liquid.
What does it become translated to? Did it get puried and keep circulating in your mind / body as pure water? Or did you have to get rid of it?
The toxic waste spills out of you, you get free of it.
Reect how this translation happened. Was it only your bodily organs and liquids that made it possible? Were some of them more involved in it than others? Or maybe there was also another force involved?
Week 45. (2023) / Małgorzata
(source of water: on the rocks in Caparica, thinking of a the episode of Planet Earth I watched yesterday and of the video Belly of the Whale)
The whale is rolling on the belly of its mother
I’m imagining the inside of her womb
Such a giant body inside of an even greater one
The hero sleeps in the belly of the whale
Furious wave is tickling my feet
In the belly of the whale the hero is waiting for transformation
Różowe skały wyglądają niczym wnętrze brzucha wieloryba | The pink rocks look like the inside of a whale’s belly
Pulsujące organy i tkanki | Pulsating organs and tissues
Widoczne tylko od środka lub po rozchyleniu płatów skóry | Visible only from the inside or when the skin flaps are opened
W brzuchu wieloryba jest ciepło i ciemno | It is warm and dark in the whale’s belly
Słychać jego głośny oddech | You can hear her loud breathing
Równomierne powolne tętno | Regular slow heart rate
Im wolniej oddychasz, tym dłużej będziesz żyć | The slower you breathe, the longer you will live
The hero in the belly of the whale is holding his breath
He’s diving
He’s sleeping
From the darkness of the womb he’s nding his way to the surface
A little slender whale is being born
Letter response by Kai:
Dear Małgosia,
I am writing to you all the way from Deep Down. I came here just a few days ago but it feels like I have known this place forever. Surely you have experienced this too, arriving somewhere and instinctively knowing your way around; your own breathing also matching the breath of the place.
It is quite dark here but one gets used to it quickly. Your eyes, your entire body simply adapts to it, so at some point it feels like your own body and that of the place have fully merged. The lack of light makes it hard to really define anything in Deep Down. You are never quite sure what exactly it is that you see. All you can do is sense. And even if you touch something – and oh, I can only invite you to touch all and everything here – it will only leave you with more guessing. What we would call a rock up there, might be a soft and fleshy formation here.
What seems to be either strings of mycelium or a structure of blood vessels is growing all around and it’s completely dry and dusty but will leave you with wet fingers if you touch it. I have learned that this is how she speaks. She told me her name but I can only spell it by also touching you – on the spot that lies exactly three fingers below your right collarbone – there! Could you feel it?
The names here change according to who speaks them. And the surfaces change according to who feels them. There are no other humans here, or at least I haven’t met any. But this place is so alive – filled with beings who all have their individual rhythms, individual bodies and even individual times they seem to live in, but somehow all seem to interact so seamlessly. Every disruption, glitch or what we might call an error, happening somewhere, is felt and mended by the entire place, the entire body of Deep Down, in collectivity.
I wish I could send you a recording of what it sounds like here. Everyone is so talkative, they are all multilinguals. Some murmur continuously – it’s so soothing to listen to. Others talk only when being touched, through vibration or a change of their bodies density. And others again tend to speak with a voice so low and dragged through multiple time spans that you have to listen carefully and patiently. Sometimes one sentence can fill out up to three years up there. But in Deep Down, time is very different. So I listen. And I observe. And I sense.
Even the smell is phenomenal here! Mud and musty earth seem to be mixed with sea water. Never have I smelt anything like it before. It is as if the deep sea and the deep soil have merged in this place, this being.
I cannot even say what the dimensions of this body are. It could very well be that it measures only a few dozen square metres and at the same time, it seems so vast and extensive.
A belly or a ship. A planet or a house. A nest or a city.
I don’t know how I got here, but if you somehow find yourself in this strange place – I warmly welcome you anytime.
Sending you all my love and a warm hug, smelling of salt and earth,
Kai
Week 38. (2023) / Małgorzata
(Praia do Areão)
time is present i am present
perła formuje się w brzuchu ostrygi | a pearl is formed in the belly of the oyster
narodziny perły | birth of the pearl
rozdrobnione kawałki muszli | crushed pieces of shell
skąd tu przybyły | where did they come from
ile kilometrów pokonały niesione przez fale po wzburzonym dnie oceanu | how many kilometers they traveled carried by waves on the rough ocean floor
it seems there is no time
to hold the ground
broken shells holes
i like to see the scars
traces left on the surface
it emerges from nowhere
i’m waiting for the water to come and talk to me
i am lost in you
waiting to hold you
waiting to be held
stillness. there is no stillness. even in fixity
waiting for you
i give you all of me
until nothing is left
you give me strength
you’re stronger than me
hold me
Week 29. (2023) / Małgorzata
(dancing on the beach and recording myself meanwhile. 13th July, my birthday. morning, earlier we swam naked in the ocean with Kristina)
vulnerability of the body
of water
and of the body
in water
miękkość
zderzenia, uderzenia
fale rozbijają się o skórę
brzuch
we let the waves break on us
tremendously pass
fale rozbijają się o skały
fale rozbijają się o ciała
wodorosty pętają mi łydki
oplatają się wokół nadgarstków
słońce
słońce wychyla się zza wzgórza
słońce chowa się za horyzontem
oświetla kształt
wyspy
moje cialo
twoje cialo
dwie wyspy pośrodku wzburzonego morza
opływowy kształt ramion
nagość
łagodność
bezbronność
the Ocean brings out what’s the best in me
water was gentle, warm and soft
like you
woda zamieszkana przez miliony organizmów
woda, która nie należy nikogo
tłamsi, obmywa, unosi nasze ciala
jednakowo
To taki piękny dzień.
vulnerability of the body
of water
and of the body
in water
softness
collisions, blows
waves crash against the skin
belly
we let the waves break on us
tremendously pass
waves crash against the rocks
waves crash against the bodies
seaweed binds my calves
wraps around the wrists
the sun
the sun peeks out from behind the hill
the sun hides behind the horizon
illuminates the shape
of the island
my body
your body
two islands in the middle of a rough sea
streamlined shape of the shoulders
nakedness
gentleness
vulnerability
the Ocean brings out what’s the best in me
water was gentle, warm and soft
like you
water inhabited by millions of organisms
water that belongs to no one
it smothers, washes, uplifts our bodies
equally
It’s such a lovely day.
Week 26. (2023) / Małgorzata
(it’s been a struggle to arrive at the beach tonight. i lost one bus, another didn’t come, but finally I’m here. dived in the ocean before it got dark; now i’m sitting on the rocks; I managed to find a quiet spot, somehow protected from the loud music from the beach bars)
(I have no doubts it is worth going to meet you, even only for a moment.)
Today I learnt that a moment has 90 seconds. What can you do within a moment?
dive in the ocean
have a quick coffee
it’s enough to hug someone, kiss, enough to hurt
Even the free fall before a parachute opens lasts less than a moment.
90 seconds can be considered a moment only in the human perspective, in the scope of our lifespan.
What would be a moment for a tree?
What would be a moment for a bee?
How long would the moment last for the Planet Earth?
Our appearance on the globe is like a buttery eect. Seemingly meaningless, momentary, yet changing the course of events.
The moment was enough to see you at the door and understand.
How many moments did I waste today on anger and irritation? Imagine each moment being an entire new story –
how many opportunities do you have to write it always anew.
90 seconds will not be enough to walk to the bus stop.
Say goodbye to the Ocean, look at the nearly full Moon, and go.
Week 22. (2023) / Małgorzata
(Aplysia fasciata. Observing; two days after dancing with the memory and writing)
odpływam
dryfuję
oddalam się
czarna suknia Aplysii faluje łagodnie wbrew nurtowi rzeki
łódź rozbija się na brzegu portu
z impetem odbiera ludziom życie
po raz kolejny jesteśmy świadkami katastrofy w moich snach
miłość jest formą katastrofy
nie wiem dlaczego płaczę
może wzrusza mnie śmierć oar, którą oglądam za zamkniętymi powiekami trzymamy się za ręce
po raz kolejny ocaleni
przetrwaliśmy
mimo mojego strachu i nieumiejętności przepowiadania przyszłości
z pewnością nie jestem Kasandrą
nie noszę kijka proroka ani kolorowych wstążek
faluję bezwładnie, z pozoru
zachowywanie spokoju odbiera energię
oślizgłe ciało Aplysii
niczym wodorost niczym motyl
czarny płaszcz trzepocze pod powierzchnią wody
i’m swimming away
drifting
retreating
Aplysia’s black dress billows gently against the river’s flow
a boat crashes on the shore of the harbour impetuously takes people’s lives
once again we are witnessing a catastrophe in my dreams
love is a form of catastrophe
i don’t know why i’m crying
maybe i am moved by the deaths of the victims i watch behind closed eyelids we’re holding hands
once again saved
survivors
despite my fear and inability to read the future
i am certainly not Cassandra
i don’t carry the prophet’s stick or colored ribbons
i wave inertly, it seems
staying calm takes energy
Aplysia’s slimy body
like a seaweed like a buttery
a black mantle utters beneath the surface of water
Audio response by Kai:
Week 19. (2023) / Joanna
sok z pigwy [tańczę z pełną buzią, gdy w końcu muszę przełknąć zaczynam pisać]
Łydki
Moja siostra rzeki nie widziała
od zeszłej wiosny zadomowiona
w bezpiecznym gnieździe
blisko lasu
znalazłam peryferia codzienności
pomiędzy tym co znam i nie
pamiętam soczystego mięsa
kiedy przychodzi lato
zrywa się do lotu w rodzinne strony
z daleka od domu
konsumuje wolniej
żywię się sokiem brzozy zebranym wczesną wiosną
quince juice [I dance with my mouth full, when I finally have to swallow I start to write]
Calves
My river sister did not see since last spring
settled in a secure nest near the forest
I found the peripheries of everyday life between what I know and what I don’t remember juicy meat
when summer comes
takes off to fly to family sites
away from home
consumes more slowly
I feed on birch sap collected in early spring
Physical response by Kai:
First, get to know your body parts and their seasons.
Be very specific. Take some time to get to know both your thumbs, your ribcage, your shoulders, thighs… And familiarise yourself with the season they are currently in. How do you find out? Is the left side different from the right one? Then, make a connection – what is happening in between them: if one of your shoulders is in autumn and your calves are both in summer, how does this affect the rest of your body and any possible movement?
Week 17. (2023) / Kai:
source of water: wheelbarrow filled with water and plants to be put into the ground. I turn on the tap and wait for the water to fill the entire wheelbarrow. I manoeuver it across the gar- den. After planting I pour the water into the ground. Later, I investigate what my body has memori- sed of all this.
The container contains – contingencies. Crossing the space. Careful. A body full of care, full of contradictions. And coincidence. The letter C is a container as well. I can put things in there but they will leak out again. It is meant for things to pile up and then spill over its edges. O is a locked off room. I wonder about the secrets that were placed inside them, the many O‘s spoken and written… And all those C‘s! The seas of C‘s that are constantly flowing in all directions, spilling over into air, into the ground and taking new things in. How much do they weigh? Can my arms carry them? My body knows the shape of a C but not that of the sea. I try to figure it out. To find the figu- re. Among the waves. I find multiple. But cannot hold any of them. They are not to be contained. Both, the sea and the C know that. That you can‘t possess, you can‘t own the things within them. My body feels heavy and slippery. I try to figure that out as well. To find the figure within my body. Not how it composes itself on the outside and also not how it feels on the inside. But that what is inbetween. It is less of a shape and more of an event. Constantly rearranging itself. Taking things in and spilling over. Not to be contained only within itself.
Audio response by Małgorzata:
Week 15. (2023) / Joanna
source of water: the Odra River, section in Łany
I hear
I’m late
In slow looking
I don’t have any thoughts
To do lists; the garden; teeth; drainage; bathroom Probably sometimes
Excessively
I cover beyond measure
Of an honest man
I hear
Again too late
Spring has come
Cranes; storks; swans
Swirls in muted colors with sharp edges
I always release it into the water
Myself
Week 9. (2023) / Kai
source of water: enhydro agate – a rock or mineral formation with water trapped inside.
I have never seen one in the flesh. I imagine it.
Letter response by Małgorzata:
Read here
Week 2. (2023) / Małgorzata
Ocean, dotykam dłońmi mokrych skał 7 min, większość czasu z zamkniętymi oczami Nieokreślony czas pisania
Przyszedł do mnie kiedy tańczyłam. Nigdy wcześniej nie podszedł tak blisko.
Pełen gracji, o smukłej szyi. Nie bał się. Byłam w ruchu.
Podwodny mech. Miękki. Muskam go opuszkami palców.
Chciałabym pogładzić pióra ptaka.
Zanurzam dłoń w zebranej pomiędzy skałami wodzie.
Zdumiewa mnie jej ciepło.
Bezruch. Łagodność. Cała jestem mokra od nieustannej mżawki.
Szorstkość. Miękkość. Twardość skał.
dotyk
Ze szczeliny wychyla się czarny krab.
Szeroko rozstawione oczy. Otwiera usta.
Ciemność.
Mrok.
Wilgoć.
Oślizgłość.
Zewsząd otacza mnie życie.
source of water: Ocean, I’m touching the wet rocks with my hands 7 min, most of the time with eyes closed Indefinite writing time
He came to me while I was dancing. He had never come so close before.
Full of grace, with a slender neck. He wasn’t afraid. I was moving.
Underwater moss. Soft. I stroke it with the tips of my fingers.
I would like to caress the bird’s feathers.
I immerse my hand in the water collected between the rocks.
I am astonished at its warmth.
Stillness. Gentleness. I’m soaking wet from the constant drizzle.
Roughness. Softness. Hardness of the rocks.
touch
A black crab peeks out of the crack.
Wide-set eyes. He opens his mouth.
Darkness.
Gloom.
Moisture.
Sliminess.
Life surrounds me
Audio response by Kai:
Week 52. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: frozen water in a barrel
Banana puree
Empurre Rozpycham się w przestrzeni
Jak zawsze kłębią się pytania
Chyba się pospieszyłam drum drum drumming
Beczka z florydy wieczna zmarzlina
Jakie wydają dźwięki
Aseptyczne kwaśne oczy na zielonej trawie
Ślady w śniegu bruzdy niezagojone rany opuchlizna
Kolano łokieć połącz kropki
Jaki gwiazdozbiór utworzy twoje ciało
Uderzam w beczkę wypełnioną lodem
Jakie wydaje dźwięki
Dokładnie 11:11
Ja Cię kocham a Ty śpisz
Kevin sam w domu i te sprawy
Co ja robię tu kocham kocham
Wybieram nieracjonalnie
Produkty z florydy
I myśli niepoukładane
Na dnie zielonej zardzewiałej beczki
Lód zamarza zwiększa objętość pęka
Furkot skrzydeł
Mgła i dym
Banana puree
Empurre
I’m barging through space
As always, questions abound
I guess I rushed drum drum drumming
A barrel from Florida permafrost
What sounds do they make
Aseptic acidified eyes on green grass
Ruts in the snow furrows unhealed wounds swelling
Knee elbow connect the dots
What constellation will your body form
I hit a barrel filled with ice
What sounds does it make
Exactly 11:11
I love you and you are sleeping
Kevin home alone and other stuff
What am I doing here love love
I choose irrationally
Florida products
And unorganized thoughts
At the bottom of a green rusty barrel
As the ice freezes, the volume increases and it cracks
The flutter of wings
Fog and smoke
Week 51. (2022) / Joanna
source of water: The snow melting on my terrace
Dirty whiteness
Reverberation echoing memories
There is something nostalgic about it
Missing space between the shoulder blade and the ear
Is shimmering blue
My home seems to be getting smaller and smaller
Or maybe I ate too many cookies
Streamlined shapes lose their boundaries
There is something obvious in the presence of the past
I wish I could focus more on one thread
It may fall at any time
Physical response by Kai:
Begin with a body-scan to feel your body in its entirety, with all its nooks, connections and internal movements. Then, focus on the space between your left and your right shoulder.
This space now starts to dissolve. Is it evaporating, melting or shedding? How is that affecting the rest of your body? And what is left behind eventually?
Now, there is something new appearing in that space – starting out as a small picture, seen from afar but becoming clearer and bigger: a strong river, emerging between your left and right shoulder. Does it stay inside the space, is it trapped there? Or does it flow out of you as well? How is that now affecting the rest of your body?
The river between your shoulders continues to flow, but now you realise that also the space between both of your wrists and elbows is starting to disappear. Is it a different sensation than before? What is left here and what is it that is appearing afterwards? What feelings and images are emerging with it and how does your body respond? Are the body-spaces and what is emerging in them somehow communicating with each other?
Repeat with different spaces between different body parts.
Week 45. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: Godalen Strand, Stavanger
jak to jest że można tęsknić za zimnem?
brakuje mi tego stanu, kiedy nikt nie każe mi być szczęśliwą
nie zawsze musi świecić słońce.
czasem szarość fiordu to właśnie to czego potrzebuję dla ukojenia.
w końcu znalazłam miejsce, w którym wzrok nie sięga budynków lecz przyrody.
obok mnie przepływa łódź, huczy silnik. gdy spojrzę za siebie widzę ogromną fabrykę; wzdłuż całego
wybrzeża kominy, rury; stolica ropy naftowej.
to, że nie mogę żyć z dala od wody już wiem. niektóre ciała zbudowane są z soli. niektóre relacje są jak reakcje
chemiczne. sód i potas. zanurzam się w wodzie. wybucha wulkan.
spotkanie. portal do innego wymiaru. opieram się o ścianę. może gdy będę stać tak wystarczająco długo to
skały otworzą się i przejdę na drugą stronę
opowiadam ci o hiper-soli, substancjach ekstremalnych. przyszłam tutaj z zamiarem, by popływać. zadziwia
mnie, że mam tak dużo szczęścia. gdziekolwiek się nie znajdę czeka na mnie piękno. nawet nie jest tak zimno
jak się spodziewałam. może rozgrzewa mnie wewnętrzny ogień –
ten z traktatu o kosmicznym ogniu.
how is it that you can long for the cold?
I miss this state when nobody tells me to be happy
the sun does not always have to shine.
sometimes the gray of the fjord is just what I need for relief.
finally, I found a place where the eyesight reaches not buildings but nature.
a boat passes by me, an engine roars. when I look behind I see a huge factory; chimneys, pipes along the entire coast; oil capital.
that I can’t live far from water I know already. some bodies are made of salt. some relations are like chemical reactions. sodium and potassium. I’m immersing myself in water. a volcano erupts.
encounter. portal to another dimension. I am leaning against the wall. maybe when I stand that long enough the rocks will open and I’ll cross to the other side.
I am telling you about hypersalt, extreme substances. I came here with the intention to swim. it amazes me how lucky I am. wherever I go, beauty awaits me. it’s not even as cold as I expected. maybe my inner fire warms me –
the one from the treatise on cosmic fire.
Week 43. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: Praia do Guincho
próbuję sobie przypomnieć
czy już tu kiedyś tańczyłam
doskwierają mi tęsknoty
zmultiplikowane
nakładają się jedna na drugą
prawie nie mogę oddychać
nareszcie do moich nozdrzy dociera zapach oceanu
ktoś wmontował krzesło w skałę
obiekty nienaturalne
materiały hydrofobiczne
geometryczne kształty
zakłócają równowagę
spoglądam w dół
łatwo byłoby spaść
gdybym tylko chciała
przedziwna niebieskość
czy to mech grzyb czy sztuczny barwnik
wszyscy już sobie poszli.
rybak zwinął wędkę
zostawił dla mnie miejsce
robi się ciemno i woda mnie dosięga
siedzę na hawajskiej chuście
tak bardzo za tobą tęsknię,
los się ze mnie naśmiewa
odliczam dni. 17.
ciemność. zakreślam łuk ramieniem
rozpędzone turkusowe morskie monstra gnają w moją stronę
rozbryzgują się u moich stóp
łagodnieją
głaszczę ich puszyste grzywy.
I’m trying to remember
have I danced here before?
multiplied longings are bothering me
overlapping one another
I can hardly breathe
the scent of the ocean finally reaches my nostrils
someone mounted a chair into the rock
unnatural objects
hydrophobic materials
geometric shapes
disturb the balance
I glance down
it would be easy to fall
if I only wanted to
strange blueness
moss fungus or artificial dye
everyone is gone.
the fisherman rolled up the fishing rod
left space for me
it’s getting dark and the water is raising
sitting on a Hawaiian headscarf
I miss you so much,
fate makes fun of me
I’m counting down the days. 17.
darkness. I draw a circle with my arm
speeding turquoise sea monsters are rushing towards me
splash at my feet
they soften,
I stroke their fluffy manes
Physical response by Kai:
You begin by closely observing what is your body made of today: what material and what texture, weight and size. Take some time to find out. Maybe by touch, or movement or just by turning inwards and becoming aware. You then find yourself on a big rock, alongside the beach. The rock has been formed over centuries. Can you still feel these centuries, the time that has passend, when you touch and observe the surface of the rock? Do you feel stable on this rock or are you constantly trying to keep in balance? Upon closer inspection, you realise that one bodypart, one limb is actually inside the rock. As if the rock has grown over it – with help of the salt in the water, the weather, the time. How does the rock feel from the inside? How does it affect the rest of your body – the body that you have defined in the beginning? More and more of your body is merging with the rock. And now it is you that is shaping the stone, from the inside and the outside. What is its final shape? What is the final form and structure, size and weight of your body?
Week 36. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: krople wody na podłodze / water drops on the floor
wyschnięte krople
łzy których nigdy nie było
wylane bez powodu
kładę dłonie na kolanach
wygładzam różową sukienkę
rollercoaster
masz kilka wyjść
zatrzymać maszynę wypaść dotrwać do końca
kręci mi się w głowie
nie miałam czasu jechać na plażę
trzy wyschnięte krople
przypominają mi jak bardzo brakuje mi wody
zanurzam dłonie we wspomnieniach
zwilżam usta
uczę się mówienia nie
a jednak
to było piękne
stałam się kimś innym
przebiegły mnie dreszcze
zmarznięte dłonie
i nagły zryw krwi w żyłach
rwący potok czerwonej wody
rozgrzewa moje tkanki
wibruję wewnątrz
nadeszła wiosna.
(na początku jesieni)
dried up drops
tears that have existed
shed for no reason
I put hands in my lap
smoothing the pink dress
rollercoaster
you have a few ways out
stop the machine fall out survive to the end
my head’s spinning
I didn’t have time to go to the beach
three dried up drops
remind me of how much I miss water
I dip my hands in memories
wetting my lips
I’m learning to say no
and yet
it was beautiful
I have become someone else
I shivered
frozen hands
and a sudden spurt of blood in the veins
a rushing stream of red water
warms my tissues
I vibrate inside
spring has come.
(at the beginning of autumn)
Week 22. (2022) / Joanna
source of water: water spilled from a watering can
Experiencing bubbles tiny droplets
in each direction simultaneously
can’t wait to feed you again
spill over in excesses
soar up in a violent wave
pour over from the river bed
musicality of drops
I inhabit the entire delta
reversed stream
I soak into
I rediscover my purpose
relentless focus
rhythms of the seasons
lightness of the splashes
Is this a season of finally
finding some of the answers
The last to know comes unexpected
Physical response by Kai:
the body a puddle on the ground. a puddle that is now being moved back in its original container. moved in reverse. slowly the liquid that is all spread out is now gathering again, is being pulled together, pulled upwards and sidewards. all in reverse. until the body, the liquid from the ground, has found its way back in the container – its original habitat.
Week 16. (2022) / Kai:
source of water: lake that appeared in a dream
Das Tal liegt inmitten des Sees
der See ist im Sommer wie Winter
der See stützt sich auf die Erdsäulenschenkel
der See ist nicht rot, er ist alt
Das Alter fließt aus dem See in die Knochen
die Knochen sind Haus und sind Himmel
die Knochen machen die Erde weich
die Knochen sind nicht die Nacht, sind der Tag
Der Tag fliegt mit den Knochen ins Tal
das Tal ist auch damals und gestern
das Tal wächst aus der Taghimmelerde
das Tal ist nicht Tal,
es war See.
The valley lies amidst the lake
the lake is summer as winter
the lake leans onto the earthpillarthighs
the lake is not red, it is old
Age flows out of the lake into bones
the bones are house and are heaven
the bones soften the earth
the bones are not night, they are day
The day takes the bones and flies to the valley
the valley is also back then and yesterday
the valley grows out of the dayheavenearth
the valley is not valley,
it was lake.
Week 10. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: thin streaks of foam on the seashore
smugi piany
bąbelki
wypełnione powietrzem
sunąc, tworzą obrazy
białe plamy
w pamięci
na ziemi
na piasku
nie ma muszli
widziałam jedną przed domem
musiałam upuścić ją wracając z plaży
kilka miesięcy temu
zanim stopniał śnieg
czy to już wiosna
moje ślady znikają tak szybko
pękają bąbelki piany
bańki
myśli rozpływają się w powietrzu
na chwilę
jestem tu na chwilę
nie mam tradycji które mogłabym kultywować
jestem sama
dziwna wilgoć pod powiekami
ale to nie łzy
sny niedośnione
ciało nie-rozluźnione
dokąd prowadzą fioletowe smugi
grafitowe koryta
w kolorze rękawów mojej kurtki
z czy do oceanu
z zewnątrz czy do środka
nie zadawaj mi pytań skąd jestem i dokąd zmierzam
quo vadis
jeszcze nie znalazłam swojego miejsca
nie pytaj do kiedy zostaję
czy nie możemy być, po prostu
obserwować
nigdy nie sprawdzam prognozy pogody
i tak zawsze wszystko się zmienia
niespodziewanie
streaks of foam
bubbles
filled with air
as they glide, they create pictures
white stains
in memory
on the ground
on the sand
there are no shells
I saw one in front of the house
I had to drop it on my way back from the beach
a few months ago
before the snow melted
is it spring already
my traces disappear so fast
bubbles burst
thoughts dissolve in the air
for a while
I’m here only for a while
I have no traditions to cultivate
I’m lonesome
strange wetness under the eyelids
but these are no tears
unrested dreams
body un-relaxed
where the purple streaks lead
graphite troughs
the same color as my jacket sleeves
from or to the ocean
from outside or inwards
don’t ask me where I’m from and where I’m going
quo vadis
I haven’t found my place yet
do not ask how long am I staying
can’t we just be, merely
observe
I never check the weather forecast
everything always changes anyway
unexpectedly
Auditory response by Joanna:
Week 6. (2022) / Kai:
source of water: small brook at the side of a field
white cloaked sky and naked willow
wet gras land, moors and in between
time always finds its space and this shirt is getting too small for her now
yet the island hasn‘t lost its shape
its face still covered in dirt and maybe
I should lick it off
strings follow – a whole orchestra playing now
from around the well-laid table
I have no claim to their song
Physical response by Małgorzata:
Week 5. (2022) / Małgorzata
source of water: clumped piles of wet seaweed
memory of the island
the feet collapse into a structure of an undefined form
lubricious what they
hide in tangled pods?
I’m expecting meerkats mass of
vegetation
treading on them
I can feel the mucousness of my internal organs
intestines again fluids in my
body
I can feel the mucousness of the articular cartilages
darkness and viscosity internal organs
do not like light
I read that witches heal in the
dark for the body is shocked
when its interior gets
exposed to the light
I tread the seaweed slippery and
dark
my body is full of water
mucus and
gloom
Physical response by Joanna:
BMC based meditation
Let’s try to get into the mind of intestines. For help you can search for some images at: https://www.netterimages.com/large-intestine-structuremucosa-and-musculature-of-colonmu cosa-and-musculature-of-large-intestinestructure-of-colon-unlabeled-general-anatomy- frankh-netter-1396.html
Lay down comfortably and visualize them. Be precise. Let’s spend some time there. Breath into these organs. Try to expand them a little bit with breathing. Then hiss into them (inhale and then make a “ssss” sound directed into the organ). After a few repetitions change hissing into an open vowel. Try to roll from one side to another starting from watery dense transferring/leaking/flowing intestines. Introduce more movement. Your intestines can be squeezed by neighboring organs or can expand and roll through/on them. If we think about function of these organs and their application to emotions following themes come up: absorption; ability to assimilate what one has taken in; receiving what one needs; evaluating what’s valuable/not valuable; decision to let go of that which one has taken in but which has/has not been absorbed within the allotted time frame; preparation for elimination; final preparations in forming and discharging an outcome or resolution; letting go of that which is unsatisfactory or debilitating Pick up one of the above topics and move with them remaining still in the “intestinal mind”.
Week 1. (2022) / Joanna
source of water: clouds
saturation
slowly swims changing shapes
impossible to identify
what you see?
I wave slightly in out gathering sending
scream in the mountains
soft tummy
my salivary glands are working very intensively
rustling crackling of bamboos
a multitude of small leaves
I freeze motionless
I watch the saliva gentle rocking
penetration impregnation
Auditory response by Kai: