Following on from this post, below the jump are words and images from Saturday’s space…

Let it go
[We used flash paper for the first time in this space - it's the stuff that magicians use, which disappears in a puff when put to flame. It was simply gorgeous.]

secrets and dreams from cheryl lawrie on Vimeo.

And then there are secrets that bind us too tightly
twisting our lives into a shape of their making

If there is a secret that holds you
in its grasp,
write it onto the paper.
hold it to the flame
and let it go.

Keep it close
[in the secret passage in the back corner... a copy of the complete works of Shakespeare placed on a desk]

Not all secrets should be told
some need to be kept close.

If you have a secret that
you’ve been given

- a dream, a nightmare, a longing, a fear -

mark it out here.

Find the words that tell the secret
and cross them out.

Spilling your secrets

[photo by Mike]

And then there are the secrets we keep
because we don’t know what will happen
when we find the words to give them voice
and trust them to the world.

Here is a place for spilling our secrets
- those that are ours to hold and ours to tell -

If you come here needing to tell a secret,
write or draw it on the table.

If you come here needing courage and wisdom
to know how to share a secret,
write your prayer or longing instead.

Preserved dreams

[Photo by Mike]

They say -
the people who know these things
- that when you die to a dream
you wake up to your life.

Is there a dream,
which has brought you to this point
in your life,
but which you now need to put aside
for your life to be lived?

Find it here
if you can,
and put it in a jar.

It will keep.

Archived dreams

[photo by Blythe]

There’s a cost to dreaming
and it can be too much to pay.

If you have a dream that’s begun to do you damage,
- a good dream, that was worth having -
that’s now hurting you
and holding you back,

if you have a dream you need to let go
for good,
to let another be born

find it here
or – if it’s not here -
write it on the paper.

When you’re ready,
put it in the archive box.
and begin to let it go.

Reclaimed dreams

[Photo by Mike]

They say
that without a dream
the people perish.

Is there a dream you need to remember having?

something that brought you to life,
or challenged,
or scared you,
just by its possibility,
but which you’ve let go
out of tiredness
or cynicism
or reality?

If you can find something here
that speaks of the dream you need to reclaim,
write your name on it.

It’s yours now.

Abandoned and recovered

When the dreams die
and turn to dust

all the protestations
about how it’s not fair
and how it should be different
don’t change a thing

all the best caring clichés
it was never meant to be
you don’t deserve it
don’t make their aftermath less desolate.

With all our best intentions and wishes
and even our prayers

shattered dreams
sometimes stay
as dust.

Take the dust of the world’s dreams with you as you go.

Remember them.

Fire and Brimstone in a Hollow Formed by Hand, at the Tate St Ives

I’ve been dipping in and out of the book today [penance for avoiding using my imagination by writing reports all day yesterday]. It’s a collection of essays about Weiner’s work, along with photographs and descriptions. As one essayist describes it, his life’s work is ‘the introduction of language as a sculptural material’. As he says himself:

Sculpture by virtue of its state
presents a material reality that by its presence
changes the inherent meaning of whatsoever place
it finds itself
bringing about a change in the relationship of
human beings & objects & producing a change in
the ambience
Caveat Emptor: It can at times block the way

[Weiner, 2006]

I’m thinking today about the myriad of possibilities that the basement space offers [while simultaneously contemplating how easily a myriad turns into a mire...]. I get the feeling we should be trying something new there; that we’re ready for a jump into a different kind of thing. I think the thing that holds us in common, as a group, is that we’re searching for a different way of being human, and a different way of being in relationship with the world and each other… [though i need to test that with the group], but we’ve been limiting ourselves a bit by seeing the possibilities through a singular lens. Maybe it’s time to add in a few other lenses. I don’t know what they are yet.

I just read this paragraph in Weiner’s book [it's a retrospective of his work, and includes a collection of essays]. The last sentences are just brilliant:

During the 1950s and 60s, Weiner grappled with an existential crisis in the aftermath of the war by investigating more conceptual challenges to authority and prevailing hierarchies. Today, his approach – language as the material of sculpture – seems ever more relevant when considered within the context of a culture struggling with information overload and a lack of fixity. His work is generative and generous, capable of embedding itself just about anywhere and empirical enough to engage all of our senses. To experience Weiner’s work is to accept its logic and its material reality, as well as to be seduced by the beauty of its chain of associations and offers of discovery. Entering into it is to risk a state of bewilderment, like stepping into a fog without discernable boundaries, to risk being “perplexed in public.” In that moment, one locates oneself in relationship to the work; afterward, some part of what has been encountered, what’s proposed, stays.

Donna De Salvo, in As far as the eye can see

In the panel on curation that Jonny Baker led at Greenbelt, Martin Poole said that he hoped the spaces created by Beyond in Brighton offer a moment of epiphany. I said that I hoped the basement spaces here offer a moment of grace. I think I still think that… but i wonder whether we also want to offer a moment of incongruence; a moment of bewilderment that once encountered you can’t quite shake. I’ve been wondering if that’s a way that transformation happens – how people make the irrational, incongruous leap into being different, not just thinking differently. Bewilderment’s not quite the right word: I think I imagine something like what happens when you are told a parable, and the world reorients itself, just for a moment… and even though you recover your balance, quick as a flash, you’re never quite be able to shake the knowledge that the axis you think the world rotates on, is not the only one at all.

[dawn]

we had a few queries from people asking whether copies of the images we used at the solstice are up for sale… and now they are! I’ve put all the images into 2 low res pdfs here: solsticeweb and solsticeweb2 [about 4mb each], but if you’d like to see one in a higher res, let me know. The quality of the images is quite lovely… Mike and Blythe are remarkable photographers. i’ve labelled each of the images in the pdf, which would obviously not be in the final print…

The rectangular images are available in two sizes – approx 30 x 20 inch [A$50 each + p&h], and approx 22 x 16 inch [A$35 each + p&h]. The square images are available only in 20 x 20 inch size [A$35 each + p&h]. The prints are on photographic paper.

Anyway, if you’re interested, let me know by email or in the comments, and we can take things from there…

I can’t wait for the solstice.

We’re doing a space in the basement – something completely different to what we’ve done before. It’s not alt worship, hopefully it will be some kind of sacred space, though i think those who want to bring christian interpretations into the space will definitely find ways to do that… We met last night to do some final planning, and it’s really going to be lovely. It’s very low tech [the lowest tech we've ever done - perhaps the trick is to not say we need to go low tech. Every time we say that, we end up with 12 hour set ups...]

i think the lovely thing is that none of us have any idea what we want to say in the space, we just want to embody what the solstice is about… being in company that helps us survive the longest night, finding a story that helps us know we’re not alone…

The space will be open from 8 until midnight on the 20th June, in the basement carpark at 130 Little Collins Street. It’ll be cold, even with heating… When wordpress cooperates I’ll put the poster up…

It’s been a long time between basement spaces, and we’re about to start planning for the winter solstice space. It feels great to be getting back into that kind of headspace – i’ve missed it. If you want to be part of this, we’re getting together for a drink on Sunday afternoon at 4pm to start the process. Email me and i’ll let you know where we’ll be. No skills required, just a willingness to say ‘yes!’ instead of ‘that would never work…’.

Blythe sent through photos from Saturday, which i’ll put up now – more reflections later. Thanks for emails, comments etc over the last few days – it has added some reality to a very surreal, disconnected time. We’ve been flying blind with all this, so it’s been lovely to hear that some people have been able to make use of this too…

Below the jump are photos and a broader description of the space. They go with the space outline i put up earlier. I’m sure you can work out how it all fits together! We took one space out – we decided to hope that everyone else would pray for the people who lit some of these fires, because we don’t have it in us just at the moment – and added another in [making a sign of the cross with ashes - i'll describe that later]

The entry – a paraphrase of Job 2 on the left, an image from Mike and Claire’s on the right.

Elijah’s earthquake, wind and fire story was printed onto cards on the floor, ending up near the screen with the verse ‘and after all this, the sound of sheer silence…’ – onto the screen we projected a loop of smoke with the word ‘God?’ that faded in and out with the smoke. below the screen was a pile of charcoal and ashes, and the questions ‘Is this where we are to find you, God? And how will we know you are here’.

In the centre of the carpark we made a large ‘canvas’ [cartridge paper] with paints and charcoal. We wrote ‘o god where are you now’ and people added their voice to it.

we printed out the newspaper headlines reporting the death toll as it increased during the week, and also cut out lots of houses from newspapers. We stuck a roll of paper to the wall and left charcoal for people to add their prayers. It sounds incredibly confronting, written like that, but it was actually quite a downplayed space, especially in light of the media coverage this week.

years ago, Blythe made these as part of an art installation… and they were perfect for the space too. We put some quotes about the unprecedented force of the fires on the wall, and then a bowl of ashes on the floor, with the following words:

The force of the fire is beyond our comprehension
We are so fragile in the face of its power.

If you would like,
mark your hand with the sign of a cross;

we are human,
we are not alone.

This was the space to say thankyou and to ask why. We strung up fencing wire, and clipped the words to the space to the fence. We attached a large branch of a gum tree next to the words beginning ‘There have been extraordinary moments this week…’ and scattered ashes and charcoal underneath the section ‘There have been moments of absolute devastation’.

mike and claire’s story, which was so powerful and remarkable [and looked great on the wall - we wrote it onto the ipod frames that we've made over the last year or so, and put some of their photos into the frames]

We also brought down the sofas for people to sit around, and created a response space [with a list of things that people can do to help, long term], and placed a bowl with small bags of ashes at the exit, for people to take away with them to remind them to pray… It was all very simple and low key. There was a rush of people at the beginning, a long space without anyone, and then another wave of people through at the end… I honestly don’t know how it went. I felt really anxious throughout, which was perhaps inevitable; too much so to gauge people’s response. In the end that doesn’t matter, i guess. We did it because we needed to do it for ourselves…

I do need to say that I wouldn’t do this with a group of people who had survived the fires. I’d do something quite different. Who knows what yet.

Speaking of the fires, they are gradually being brought under control. The devastation is still unfolding. I flew to Sydney yesterday, and we could see where some of the fires were still smouldering and burning in places. The mountains were black, and there was absolutely nothing left on them… and that went on, for as far as you could see. I’ve run out adjectives – devastating? incomprehensible? – none of them seem to give enough weight to it. The only thing that’s clear at the moment is that these fires are going to change so dramatically how we understand ourselves as individuals and the community… even those of us who are on the sidelines of this tragedy. It’s the loss, of course, which is so incredibly overwhelming; it’s the damage and devastation; it’s also the fear of how vulnerable and fragile we actually are. Do you ever recover from that?

i wanted to keep a record of this quote… from The Age, Monday 16th Feb:

Kevin Tolhurst, Melbourne University senior lecturer in fire ecology and management, said flames would have been about 1200 degrees when they roared across the state.

He said he had calculated the areas burnt and energy released from the fires equalled 400 to 500 Hiroshima atomic bombs and generated 80,000 kilowatts per metre of flame front.

It feels weird putting up a space before we do it, but this seems to be the week to do it… We haven’t quite finalised stuff yet, and if you were creating a space for the weekend then you’d add your own things around it, but maybe this will be helpful to someone.

if you’re doing something where you are, it would be lovely to hear what that is… [and a reminder that it's possible to donate to the bushfire appeal through Share]

Only a couple of the spaces are interactive – we figure people are looking for space and silence, rather than to do things. Each of the spaces will have cushions, etc, so people can stay there a while. We only have vague ideas about how all the spaces will look yet, so what’s below is mostly describing context and words. We are using limited images of people – the media have perfected the use of people as tools of manipulation, there’s no need for us to replicate that.

the spaces go like this…

[We paraphrased Job for the entry, and we'll project the passage next to some images from Mike of the fire at their place]

There’s an ancient story of a man named Job
- a good man, noble and upright.

On one terrible day,
his children were killed in a wild storm
and his farm was wiped out in a fire.

When his friends came to comfort him,
they found him sitting in the ashes.
In their great sorrow they tore their clothes, sprinkled dust on their heads and cried bitterly.

For seven days and nights, they sat silently on the ground beside him
because there simply were no words to say…

–

[the two different sets of words will be placed onto opposite ends of the same space]

i.
there have been extraordinary moments this week
- miracles -

someone alive when we thought they were dead,
an impossible escape
the house left standing when by rights it should have been destroyed
the inevitable that somehow was avoided…

even if we’re not sure who
or what
to say thankyou to,
here is a space to do that anyway.

ii.
there have been moments of absolute devastation this week

when a prayer wasn’t answered
when the worst was found to be true
when a choice turned out to have devastating consequences

we know there are no answers
but we have to ask the question anyway

why?

why?

–

[we'll do a representation of the different statistics that have made up the week - and there'll be some way for people to write prayers - probably writing with charcoal onto the wall... got to love a concrete space]

it’s been a week of incomprehensible, overwhelming numbers

we still don’t know how many people have died
- the truth is that one would have been too many

we may find out how many houses have been destroyed
but we know they held so much more than just possessions

put a name to the devastation
the person you hurt for
those who have died
the people you know who are now trying to survive
the places you love that have been destroyed…

–

[this is the prayer i put up before, and we'll add in a couple of leunig prayers]

It’s only possible to keep living if you have hope

and this week
it’s hard to imagine what it is that keeps some people breathing.

We don’t know how people get up each day when they know that everything
and everyone
who made their life, their life, has gone.

but they do.

and rather than try to understand
or put words to it
[this is no time for theology or philosophy]

let’s just wait here for a moment

silent

in honour of the fact
that they do get up each day

and if we can
let’s hold the faith for them
that it won’t be this terrible
and impossible
forever.

–

[this is a hard space - bloody hard - the level of feeling about the people who have committed these crimes is so high, so visceral... and rightly so.]

as more news unfolds this week
it’s becoming more and more certain that many of the fires were deliberately lit.

if you are able,
pray for those who are living with the guilt of these crimes.

pray for justice to be done

pray for insight and comprehension

and, in it’s right time and right way,
pray forgiveness.

–

there are a couple of art / installation things – sort of evocative moments. email me if you want details about them.

–
[we'll have some visual stuff here - a loop of smoke]

Elijah went and stood on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord was about to pass by.

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces.
But the Lord was not in the wind

And after the wind an earthquake
But the Lord was not in the earthquake

And after the earthquake a fire
But the Lord was not in the fire

And after all this a sound of sheer silence…

is this where we are to find you, God?
and how will we know you are here?

–
we’ll have a space that’s about offering ways for people to help long term, and about maintaining commitment to the cause, as such.

–
we’ll also have sofas with tea and coffee

A sacred space in response to this week – Saturday 14th February, in the basement between 5 and 8pm… open to anyone.

Please spread the word – pdf here: silentashes1