02/02/11: Solo Training Session #3

Afraid that I am hyper-documenting an empty process. Wondering if I should've started this process sans documentation in order to establish a practice before adding on all these layers (blog, video, tiny invisible plays, etc). Worried that what I am doing is already completely changed because the video camera is looming there in the corner.

Contemplative Practice (10 minutes):
Meditated in half-lotus, eyes closed, lights out. Played with neck, trying to release tension. Lots of discursive thoughts.

Warm-Up (15 minutes):
Turned on video camera. Rolled on floor a la contact improv, starfish up to starfish down. Did a few yoga poses. Head very full of discursive thoughts. Spoke long list "Things that I am worried about." Then spoke shorter list "Things that I used to be worried about but am no longer worried about." Did headstand and shoulder stand.

Training (45 minutes):
Learned "When the River Meets the Sea" with headphones. Did about 5 reps, in both high and low octaves, loud and quietly, until ipod battery died. While I was learning the song I:
* Ran in circles.
* Did wall mirror movement. Worked on really feeling my back against the wall.
* Did "horse stance" and squats
* Thought about Death

Felt bored of myself so got out a wrestling mat and did somersaults back and forth until my head hurt.

Lay on mat and played with hair. Combed it with fingers roughly. Put into ponytail. Thought about the dead parts of our bodies: hair and nails and skin? Is skin dead or alive? Or always in process of dying? Thought about how these dead and dying parts seem very gender-marked. What do you do with the dead parts of yourself?

Did a talking dance on the blue mat. Asked myself what I could say in this place that I couldn't say anywhere else.

Video card on camera ran out of space, so the last 10 minutes were undocumented. This felt very freeing. What I did in that time will remain secret.

Note-taking (10 minutes):
Someone else needed the room so I sat in the courtyard by the fountain for ten minutes to write. It's February and I'm wearing yoga pants and a tee-shirt outside, hallelujah. Wrote Tiny Imaginary Play #3 (click here to read)