Tomorrow morning I go to Malmo Sweden for a screening of Chronicle and a short Q&A. Travel will be good, even if I am not looking forward to airports it will force me to have a new perspective.
I have been wandering around London by night and spending most of my days in preparation of the upcoming Performance in March. A few short excursions into productivity have including filming both and Eddie Prevost improvisation workshop and a live performance by 9! one of Eddie’s groups. Astounding stuf, large group improvisation at its most spectacular.
London to me seems like an old pair of worn shoes that you keep taking to have resoled because they have become a part of who you are. It is constantly being added to but still somehow as old as it ever was. Comfortable, known; its streets are a maze through time. I wander them going to theaters, sitting in churches, exploring alleys and finding out if this place is real or just some fantasy I am living inside.
I wonder about the hundreds of amazing minds that have inhabited this city, about the monsters and the madness that leaks still in the evenings out across Whitechapel and Hackney. Why do they come here? What draws one eventually to be here in this place?
I feel something coming out, something I am doing that is different and yet somehow the same. A familiar path by which I am expressing some forgotten phrase or idea. It comes from me but is not of me, a channeling of the new from the old; of dream into the real and back.