text: nietzsche

Haven't you heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning, ran to the marketplace, and shouted unceasingly: "I seek God! I seek God!"? Since many of those who did not believe in God happened to be standing around there, he was the cause of great laughter. "Did he get lost, then?" said one. "Has he lost his way like a child?" said another. "Or is he hiding? Is he scared of us? Did he go for a boat ride? Did he emigrate?" They all shouted and laughed together.

The madman sprang into their midst and transfixed them with his gaze. "Where has God gone/" he cried, "I'll tell you where! We've killed him--you and I! We are all his murderers! But how have we done this? How could we have drunk up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to erase the whole horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this Earth from its sun? Now where is it going? Where are we moving? Away from all suns? Aren't we falling constantly? Backwards, sideways, forwards, in every direction? Is there still an above and a below? Aren't we wandering as if through an endless nothing? Isn't empty space breathing upon us? Don't lanterns have to be lit in the morning? Don't we yet hear the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Don't we yet smell the divine rot?--For gods rot too! God is dead! God remains dead! And we have killed him!

text: leonard cohen

I was about to email this to Asa, but then I figured this was just as good.


GIFT

___You tell me that silence
is nearer to peace than poems
but if for my gift
I brought you silence
(for I know silence)
you would say
___This is not silence
this is another poem
and you would hand it back to me.

(Leonard Cohen)

Cieslak

"When I left Grotowski's theater, Rysard Cieslak was already a good actor, but he wanted to be an intellectual. It was as though a great brain were getting tangled up with that body that was so full of life, and flattening it out somehow, reducing the life to two dimensions. I saw him again, two years later, when he came to Oslow with The Constant Prince. Right from the start it was as though everything I remembered, everything I had based my ideas on, was disappearing beneath my feet. I saw another being, I saw a man who had discovered his own completeness, his own destiny, his own vulnerability." - Barba

Cieslak said about the same performance -

"The score is like a glass inside which a candle is burning. The glass is solid, it is there, you can depend on it. It contains and guides the flame. But it is not the flame. The flame is my inner process each night. The flame is what illuminates the score, what the spectators see through the score. The flame is alive. Just as the flame in the glass moves, flutters, rises, falls, almost goes out, suddenly glows brightly, responds to each breath of wind – so my inner life varies from night to night, from moment to moment... I begin each night without anticipations: this is the hardest thing to learn. I do not prepare myself to feel anything. I do not say "Last night this scene was extraordinary, I will try to do that again." I want only to be receptive to what will happen. And I am ready to take what happens if I am secure in my score, knowing that even if I feel a minimum, the glass will not break, the objective structure worked out over the months will help me through. But when a night comes that I can glow, shine, live, reveal _ I am ready for it by not anticipating it. The score remains the same, but everything is different because I am different."

Farm In The Cave

Gedney and I took a workshop on monday, they are performing at Yale this weekend. If you aren't in production, for the love of God go.

This is a clip from their production SCLAVI: the song of an emigrant:

http://infarma.info/page.php?lmut=en&nav=media

the holy grail, eternal life, and the monster without a name

It's never what's one might drink from the grail that's important, but the grail itself as a vessel.
Vessels. What could possibly give the eastward monster life, healing? The monster might crave a vessel that could sustain it indefinitely. Maybe the westward monster has found it, because what "vessel" could be so vast as to contain us and sustain us indefinitely if not the universe, present truth, acceptance, the heart broken open or the inside-out self?

A more tenuous thought: The monster looked for people who would give up their name and self... The association of the grail with Christ...