I dreamt last night that I was visiting Calgary and it had changed so much. There was an event going on in a number of public places. Each one needed to be visited and contemplated on like the Stations of the Cross. There was a solitary dancer in each location. But the meaning of the work was unclear.
I watched each dancer kick, twirl, shuffle and leap. But I felt silly just watching and not taking part in the dance. Truth is I find liturgical dance completely annoying like most rituals from the Church.
Was the dance they were doing a political act or was it a message at all?
Each dancer looked similar to the next and I reacted with confusion. In real life most dancers are not all alike. The body dynamics are different and so was the expression of each movement. An original signature in movement.
I moved from place to place and felt that I might be analysing too much. That the meaning didn't matter but that the expression and taking part was all that counted. But taking strong action without understanding always frightens me.
One room had a tired but clean and ill fitting grey carpet. The dancer was trying to use the wrinkles as a way to define her movement. She kept getting caught and somehow managed not to fall. This was embarrassing but riveting and compelling. Awful to watch someone failing. Awesome to watch such effort.
I woke up drenched with sweat and feeling lonely. I am at a new stage with the medication and I have let myself get tired from the gallery purchase. Doctors and labs again this week and throughout November. Mostly I feel well.
I went back to sleep and dreamed that I named my gallery The Holey Molar Gallery after the fact the building used to be a dentist's office years ago.
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