Shaky Ground (Stubborn Material)

Sometimes I miss the pillars. They are so pleasant to lean against, nice and sturdy and cooling me down. Unyielding. Just give me a pillar of a few hundred years old (I can have a similar appetite for never-ending marble museum stairs). Supporting, seemingly indestructible structures have accommodated me, this body that wants to stay soft and move around freely - it's as we've kept each other in equilibrium. And I granted others those pillars too, plus the trusted ground of the ledger stones with their worn inscriptions, gleaming from all the feet that had walked over them for decades. A solid foundation, a support, a stage.

But in reality (if we consider fantasy as reality) I've always been swimming around with floating gardens - their entangled roots drifting along - so even though I love those pillars, maybe it's time to let them go.

Being loose on shaky ground. Does that get too muddy, too feeble? Marble museum stairs will not fix it this time (but how was that house actually built? What was hidden in its impregnable pores? How and whom did it uphold?).

There is no single attractive image to present here. Instead, we are navigating by trust and intuition. I don't see it, but it's present. I don't grasp it, but I know it's there. I'm not here, but actually I am.


Reading Pope L, who wrote in 2002:

Hole Theory does not belong to those who can see.
It belongs to those who can imagine.

Hole Theory, it's construction,
Is misleading. It promises castles
Where only little houses can happen
But little can be everything.

Navigating by trust and intuition can be trained.

It doesn't come easily to me (hey, I come from a small Newtown built on a Dutch polder, muddy ground that is drained and tucked away behind rigid efficiency and transparency), but I've been practicing for a while.

VALIE EXPORT, Body Configurations series (1972-82)