What does it mean to journey?
Getting from A to B. I’m always trying to ‘fill’ my journey time. Even as I sit here on the train from Brighton to London I’m making ‘use’ of the time by writing some reflections on the last two weeks. That way the time isn’t wasted. A journey is merely a means to an end, a connection between two points, either looking back at where you’ve come from or forwards to your destination. In general journeys are an annoyance for me. If I could magic myself to my destination I would, especially avoiding Waterloo station at rush hour. Journeys, and train times are a major feature of my experience of where I live and my work. There are only two trains an hour, and the journey takes 50 minutes so I am always calculating which train I want to aim for and how much time I need to get there, so I can get home in time to have a ‘proper evening’. I spent last summer travelling to and from Euston station every day, and honed my travelling to a fine art: If I wanted to catch the 18.42 train at Waterloo I would need to make sure that at the very latest I would be walking on to the platform at Euston at 18.20, I knew which end to stand so I could exit at Waterloo in the quickest fashion and which escalator to take to minimise the journey time.
Notes on the process:
Based on a response to some of the journey maps I’ve been working with some different ideas.
- Mapping and measuring distances in the body which has created detailed, precise movement material largely focused around the central axis.
- In one journey map I saw a mass hanging from a single thread. From this I began to explore the physical idea of hanging, of hanging body parts in space, and feeling as though the body is supported by the space. This is currently an open idea which I am working on using improvisation. I am gradually defining and setting the parameters more specifically around the idea.
- In the same map I also saw a flock of birds swooping diving and circling. From this image I am working on another improvisation using the sensation that I am standing at the centre of a flock of infinite replicas of myself who move simultaneously with every movement that I make. The pleasure in this is that you can never catch them out, but there is a play and detail in the attempt at surprising yourself. Another result of this is the sense that it gives you of being a three dimensional entity and the feeling that your flock is filling the space.