Monday, October 17, 2016

KYL/D's 30th InHale is Friday! and a new work

KYL/D's 30th InHale is this Friday!

Click to reserve your spot: Tickets

Not only is this InHale #30, but I'm also sharing a brand new process inspired by time, change, moving forward and looking back, letting go and creating new adventures. I guess it's appropriate that this piece is being created in the autumn because it feels reflective of the changes happening in the seasons externally as the Earth continues to rotate and internally as my own journey continues to unfold.

A shot from my (almost) daily journey. They change day by day....

I'm grappling with the shedding of leaves and of time, but also learning to accept that in the shedding a more simple beauty emerges. The leaves on the trees are absolutely beautiful now, but the silence and clarity of the bare bark in a few weeks will also be stunning, in its own way. My new friends, Ellen Rosenberg and Michael Lancaster (among many others who circle in my sphere) have been encouraging me to question, listen, and challenge my perception of time and of change. It's from their gentle prodding and the support of my dancers that I'm able to work through my molting in this new work. 

Paul Fejko has also provided me with original music for this performance. I'm excited to see what Friday brings and what I'll learn from sharing the work. 

Heading Old 
by Michael Lancaster, August 2016

Have been years now on the salt ponds
twelve years plus one have been
poems tracking generations
long past, generations
deeply forward, life after life
arriving, being, passing to
life matter: mud, water, new life,
grasses, birds, fish uncountable, 
crustaceans, shellfish
food and life, immortality. 
In consciousness, I am 
circular life, yet limning its cadences
in cadences as urgent as life even as
my cadence slows from its 
primal assertion to be my father
miming his pace as I sought his side 
and then strode strongly past succeeding
his dreams immortal in me. 
In time my children and theirs stream
my immortality in their urgency. 
And now my cadence slows to bird song,
soft, space, vulnerable to all,
mine to teach me a rarer, slower
exquisite truth, the Spirit's charmers, who
soar at such speeds as to defy vision,
who bring passion and beauty as 
they companion my slower life,
on a fall day of grace and pale sun,
and lovely muted colors, breezes turning my
hair to winter's white, warm yet
in memory, in grace, vision, astride
one foot yet in this wonder place,
one testing new ground that feels more like home.

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