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There’s no view worth holding onto. Except maybe the view that one mustn’t hold onto a view. And then that contradicts itself, naturally, like everything else. A good example is a jazz improvisation session. You can – here – see time passing and feel what is good to hold onto and what, in order to renew your spot, your allegiance to life – is good to let go (of). It’s like rocks, having rocks in your hand but you want to pick up that new flower, so you need to release a rock. 

I like this contradiction in us – and sometimes hate – that we are groove finding creatures – that must be contrary to this to survive. In a way, this is a very helpful fact to keep in mind when you do something like stare a criminal in the face. They could change, as have you changed. So the view you hold, if to be based in real experience, contains this capacity.

And then there is evidence, evolving physical evidence of one’s existence. I’ve dedicated a lot of time to this recently – how my body is not my body – it exists regardless of what I say or think. It has its own destiny and not just in terms of wellness/ illness. What is our being saying to space, to voids, to alive landscapes that embrace it – and how through my work can I continue to facilitate its dialogue? I carry this into sound – space – and in turn my sound carries structures of space within it.

Space prays. If you let it. And our existence whether inside or outside a fabricated ‘home’ has known this union for so long. Remove all chairs, desks, beds, bookcases, if you want to pick up that new flower that is spatial prayer. I don’t know. Try something new. That’s what we were made for. 

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