Look Both Ways

Utopia is on the horizon. When I walk two steps, it takes two steps back. I walk ten steps and it is ten steps further away. What is utopia for?
It is for this, for walking.

--Eduardo Galleano

It's a workshop to compose a question. The question will start a process of discovery. The question will be inspiring or lead into a brick wall, a question will launch a ship or take you down a dark alley. These questions are to provoke a response, these will not be neutral questions, these are questions that influence an answer. They are leading questions. We are looking for leading questions. They function as agents that stimulate a reaction, development, or change, something that causes fermentation. It is a workshop to find a question that takes the form of a walk during which we hope to compose this question or to find it. Among other things we weave a weft through the warp of attention drawn by future train passengers silently standing all facing departure boards at Euston station. Or are we the warp. Just because we continue passing doesn't mean we aren't for those moments the stability around which the weave is made visible.

We listen, we watch, we dissassemble and assemble. We hover a bit here or there to write. We radiate: this is the moment that we have.

I am standing in the middle of a dance performed by travelers, by pigeons, by plastic shopping bags, the sirens from ambulances, the beep beep of taxis, an indeciferable roar, the confessions of trees, the conversations of men--into phones, a blizzard of seeds, a pram with a balloon attached, a bank slip, a long beard, a caravan of wheeled suitcases. So many hands pressing plastic close to the faces. Calling, calling, calling.

Tags: walking, pigeons, Beyond Glorious, workshop

Posted on Friday, 31 May 2013 by Karen Christopher

the effect of focusing on something for more than a short time

As I walked past the park I was drawn to the bouncing of the white bread, the way the pigeons made it look like a party. I decided to cross the street, enter the park, and take a little video. I don't like pigeons. I want to make that clear. I don't think people should dump huge loads of white bread on the pavement for the birds to eat. (I saw a massive soggy mess in the water at Victoria Park the other day . . . ). So I took this video and I went home. When I got in, I concieved an irresistable urge to make popcorn. I have a little jar from when my mother was here. I might make popcorn once in a blue moon, it's very uncharacteristic of me. But I made a bit of popcorn I took the appropriate dose of insulin, and I ate it. Only later when I saw this video on my phone did I make the connection.

Tags: pigeons, popcorn

Posted on Thursday, 5 July 2012 by Karen Christopher