An open question

Something about the tilt and pour of a gesturing body under inclination and going further. Somewhere in the mid-space into a set of patterns that are built into the grip and dissolution of muscle tone. A viscosity that is continuing on its way through the air we are entering. The shouting out into this mid-space, the throwing back into our apparent place. Where is it we are at? Never entirely of the body or out the body. A probable threshold that we are wavering through. On the brink, this tilt-point like an axle that grinds a bearing along a plum-line coursing down and simultaneously throws us into a near flight. Perception is that travelling. The surface to surface activation that acts like a springboard. The grit and gristle that gets the thing going. It is also our breathing, our digestion, our circulation.

So with the child in the therapy room- gripping my hands to pull himself up-that action can just as easily loop down into a reversal of those muscle groupings- that pressing down to go up winding to some degree back on itself - so that there is a lessening of pressure to go down- like a neutralization of the process. This double entendre is how we come to experience our selves enmeshed in a collective of activations that are all influencing and tweaking constantly the outcomes of a recipe of admixture. Patterns on patterns on patterns. We are compositions of and also in the process of composing through this constant involvement and that is how miniscully we hold together or come apart.

The leverage- point of leverage- becomes the play of outcomes- thrashing around one another and induced into predictions or the oppositions of those predictions. This becomes play- the beginnings of dialogue which is a viscous and tenable interlocking that is not a flat pack but keeps turning around one another- a multi-dimensional quest of surface on surfaces so that a turn, an angle a, holding, a falling and catching in begins to shore up upon one another and to forge point of impact, compression, affect and period of flow, travel- a vacuumm to which the potential of the body as dispersal is drawn . Form as movement follows.

Playing with the expectation of grasping to pull up which if it goes unmediated intensifies into a thrusting forward- a fast forwarding and explosiveness/ excitability of the chest, the breath, that sends the boy plummetting forward. So that unstead it is tempered by an inversion of the very usability of this grip. A lessening off so that the grip catches and then folds in on itself sending the body back down and through his own centre weight- through the sacrum and hips and the belly weight into the legs. So that there is a minute contraction of the muscles in the thigh, the leg, a small accommodation in the knee and ankle bones. A pulsing of the toes into the carpet- some kind of landing there where you are. The boy lingers. He wobbles. Then out of this letting go comes another stabilisation; a concretisation. Hardening into the grasp of the body; pushing down through the legs into the ground beyond its evident surface and pulsing up through that constraint. The arm jammed into place so that the bones of the wrist are set and configured for a moment- trapped- as the flat of the hand pushes against your palm- a driving force of right angles. A leverage. A levelling between falling down and pulling back up, the interuption into one another becoming a firm stand. So between the two fixed and unequivocal directives- of grasping and letting go, there is this balancing brink- this wavering lull of suspension that is a pause-gap - a hushed moment. A thought.

It becomes a holding together in this elastic space between getting somewhere and resting here that is neither completely one or the other. That is a kind of rapid and mediated coursing back and forward. A fast pulse that contains also within it, slowness. There's a moment of motionlessness. It is filled with potential because it is made up from so many counter-indications; emotive tendencies like colours that are never set into ultimate discrepancies but play on one another cancelling into white light.

That is the beginnings of dialogue. A dialogue with the environment- with the surface to surface of material and human interfaces. Interactions that compose out of one another. Conjoined phrases that become our living environments that are constantly flowing through one another- cautioning and letting pass impulses that are jointed and newly worked up even as we breath and think and present ourselves as varying images to one another. A continuing pronouncement through which we engage.