Witnessing being

Let me tell you about being, and being seen.

The first thing I saw at Adhocracy was 2016, Raft of the Medusa. Pony Express paddling a kayak filled with hot chips up and down the river, summoning a swarm of seagulls to swirl above them. They weren’t putting on a show. They were just doing a thing. So were the gulls. Just being as they were, paddling a kayak on the river.

I was overwhelmed by the idea of just being. Not polished performance. Just action. For the first time I saw that performance could be … not artificial. Non-fiction.

“I was overwhelmed by the idea of just being. Not polished performance. Just action. ”

I grew up in an abusive home. I’m really good at not being seen. I can walk across old wooden floorboards without a creak of sound. I can take food from a packet without any sign that something is missing. I can hear the sound of a car in a driveway and in the time it takes that sound to move from the back of my head and into my chest I can disappear.

“But what use is being when it doesn’t change me? When it doesn’t impact anyone? When it isn’t witnessed?”

Last year at Adhocracy I was part of the residency Kinstillatory Mappings in Light and Dark Matter. In the application I wrote about my body. That sometimes I feel that I can do anything with my body and it does not change me anymore. But what use is being when it doesn’t change me? When it doesn’t impact anyone? When it isn’t witnessed?

Cinzia (Schincariol) tells me that performing is allowing yourself to be seen. Witnessed. Not being any particular way. Just being and being seen. And it’s so good to be in this place. And it feels real nice to be seen.