Vertigo – 7 – Day 9, 10 and 11
Monday May 25th 8:03. The pressure is increasing, my dreams have a taste of uncompleted, restless crowds in front sprouts of pieces of art. I wake up in the emergency of what remains in my hands before the installation, tomorrow at the french institute in Tel Aviv. There are numerous hazards, the branches shall accept to be wrapped, unwrapped, de-tied, retied, the threads freed from their small cellophane envelops, the real nest to be created where it will shelter the listeners. A branch will improvise itself tree of words, it will carry 8 of them, it will have to find where to put down roots. i will have, too, to find a place to write this journal, that will welcome it and show it at hits advantage. There will be new people who to talk to, places to tam, and get organized. I will get out the cocoon, chrysalis not yet butterfly. i inhale, I exhale, I let the time get into me to start this new day.
Tuesday May 26th 15:09. I started the day upside down, in the diary. I could have whirl, or write in mirror, in stairs, with curls or even in red, but I preferred turn over the note book and try to reach the other side, the one of the already passed days, protected in the Vertigo eco-village. It is strange to notice how fast I make my nest, or is it the change that gives the known appearance of a cocoon ? Precisely since this morning, in Tel Aviv, at the French institute, I try to create one for the listener of the sound "A ma mere" to meditate under. Those who don't speak french will will be dive in their unknown, the others in the echo. Quietly the branches have find their place on the bookcase, on one side the one tied in white behind which books don't give themselves but have to be earned. On the other side the armchairs under branches tied with red threads. It will be ready on Thursday from 6pm. Now my words joined those from the previous days, I am in a danse which would talk about oceans, lines against lines like this re-creation of what was in germ in the studio. A big movement.
Wednesday May 27th 19:21. I not only start from the end, but it is it or almost. Darkness falls, the threads are deployed, feathers perched upon the red nest, the word tree found its place, the time flowed as if he was prepared since a long time to put together doutes and intuitions. It remains to say good bye to the four sisters, the fours brother in law, the children, the dogs, the donkeys, and the red ants. Pack my luggage. I don't know if we have found our project, but we understand that we don't need any to discover what brings us together. Tomorrow the night will be long. Each of the two simultaneous listener will have a unique experience, nests created from the same wood, the same thread, but two different universe, tomorrow will be a new era. The silence is coming within me. I realize how much storms fill my mind and the pages when I create, but my intuition leads me, doubt and desire to backup too but enthusiasm make me move. Friday I will write the last line of this diary. I don't know how the entire journal will faithfully transpose this adventure, when picture refused to capture anything else than scenery. I hope, that you, who accompanied me, have been able to travel in yourself. It is the first time that I copy with no editing my work diary, for you. In the necessary solitude of creation, I throw bottles to the see, I whisper against the faces of cliffs and there is always someone to send me back the echo and open the message. Thank you.