I had a 1am talk with Nemesia last night in the kitchen. She caught me in the act of nibbling on a slice of cheese. She was looking for Ambroise. She said she needed somebody to talk to. I was glad to be the one to share this midnight chat with her. She had moved into Wenckebachweg 18 a week ago and we had only met briefly one sunny morning in the living room when Ambroise and her shared a sumptuous brunch on the couch with lounge music. Ambroise was wearing a mini skirt, a fake fur coat and high heels that morning. Marcel had told me about Ambroise’s occasional drag actions and I felt touched and honored to finally witness one myself.
Nemesia had been evicted from a squat a few days ago and was still a bit traumatized. I didn’t realize how big an effect this eviction had on her. She seemed to be a tough&talkative girl. That was my first impression. She was wiping her eye sockets vigorously. I’m not embarrassed anymore when people cry in front of me. I was especially intrigued by Nemesia’s vigorous rubbing of her eye sockets as if this could prevent the tears from flowing.
I had just gotten back from a Korean dumpling party. She had been to a dinner with fellow academics. She writes her PHD on the squatting movement in Holland. She had enjoyed the food but found the people boring. Especially one Iranian guy who always needs to be the center of attention and was saying things like: “ I bought some lamb today. They have some really nice quality lamb in Holland!”
She told me she hadn’t realized I was a dancer. She took modern dance in college and loves to go to dance performances. She also commented on my accent. She found it slightly American with a vague European timbre or something along those lines.
I was flattered by her remark. I’m always annoyed when people detect my accent as being from the German wing all too soon. Being reminded that my accent isn’t as obviously German as Philip’s for example is very reassuring, although I’m not particularly keen on sounding American either.
Philip had left to Berlin for a week. Nemesia wasn’t the only one feeling relieved by Philip’s absence. He acts as though he owns the house and had expressed serious and vehement objections to Nemesia moving into the guest room. Philip likes to use the guest room as his office and the living room as his work space. His bedroom is only for sleeping and looking at himself in the mirror (according to Ambroise). Nemesia doesn’t understand how somebody can have three rooms in a squatted house. After all a squat is public property and should be treated as such with social responsibility.
Nemesia told me that Philip had asked her questions about her status when they first met – which social class her parents belong to etc. I find this perverse.
Status shouldn’t be an issue at all. But upon closer reflection I had to admit that in my social circle status is an issue after all. It is determined by whether people find somebody’s work interesting or not, if it sells and happens to please and intrigue. It is about pimping one’s profile and having an extended network of potential spectators, programmers, critics etc. who give value and importance to one’s artistic output.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
intimate walk with Robert
I raced to his house boat in the rain to pick him up. Actually it's not his house boat, but the house boat of Andre. It's one of the last house boats in Amsterdam without a sewage system. So when I peed in their toilet it went directly into the canal.
First we had a tea and stroop koek and talked about lazy weekend moods.
Robert sometimes stays in bed all day in the weekend reading the papers. He also likes to walk around his house naked for hours on end. When he is alone. Or with lovers. It feels natural to him. He wakes up every morning at 5 am to remember his dreams and goes on dreaming in a waking state. He continues constructing his dreams once he is awake, interpreting them in a way, but not analytically, more intuitively I believe.
He likes to do circular movements in his waist when he wakes up. This movement comes natural to him. I told him that this is a Kundalini exercise. In my Kundalini class we call it grinding. It wakes up the Kundalini energy and is great for digestion. And Silke, the financial secretary at school, told me she learned the same exercise in a ritual stemming from an old Tibetan monk tradition, before the buddhists came to Tibet. I forgot the name of this tradition, but I will ask her again. Robert wasn't aware that this movement comes from any kind of Tibetan monk or Kundalini tradition.
He does it unconsciously. He just does it because his body asks for it first thing in the morning. What I love about Robert is that he often shares intimate details of his life without even being asked.
We ventured out into the drizzling Amsterdam Saturday afternoon under one, big black umbrella. This already provided a quite intimate setting. We hooked arms. Robert told me about a festival director in Bologna with hair on the outside of his ears. Robert said he reminded him of a character out of Lord of the Rings. When he met this guy he felt immediately very intimately connected and they walked arm in arm through Bologna.
Robert is very social. I admire how easy it is for him to meet people and become intimate with them. In that way he is a bit of a role model to me. He talks openly about his narcissistic side. He has discovered the stage and the performer inside rather late in his life. He likes to take pictures of himself on his laptop and publish them on his blog. He finds himself beautiful when he looks at himself in the mirror in the morning. But in a sauna for example he is often bashful about his body. He is a self-indulgent being and wants to celebrate that. Yet he can give a lot of attention, positive energy and love to others. It's true that I can feel quite special in his company.
Later at a bakhlava shop Robert asked me about my relationship with my body. I replied that I am vain - that I worry about losing my hair and getting a belly. I am striving for a perfect body. And I am not at all proud of that. It doesn't go with my values of serenity and inner peace. I tend to think I am too attached to outer appearance. Everybody wants to be desired, no? Especially performers? Somehow I find it reassuring that Robert is vain and doesn't have a problem with it. Rather than change his vanity he wants to celebrate it.
Robert once told me in a feedback that what he really likes in me is my transparency. That's a big word - transparency. And it has stuck with me ever since. I constantly question myself if I am truly being transparent or only pretending to be. More often than not I perceive myself as a total fraud. I notice that it has become very important to me what Robert thinks of me. He has been my teacher and adviser. I appreciate his directness, even bluntness in giving feedback. He always wants to get back to the essence of things, the essence of what we are doing or looking for. That has been immensely valuable for me. At the bakhlava cafe I was looking for something specific. I couldn't exactly lay my finger on it. I loved listening to Robert's stories which were vivid and lush. He gets very enthusiastic and doesn't preach, but babbles like a child - which makes him so human and approachable to me. Was I expecting something from him? I guess I most of all wanted his approval. Maybe I see in him a kind of father figure. And I try to get the recognition my father cannot give me from Robert. I noticed again my tendency of not sharing so much, but being more of a facilitator. I tried to bring up this subject. I even asked him if my analytical and self-critical behavior and way of thinking can be annoying. He said it wasn't annoying, more funny. But that it makes me stay more with myself. Instead of opening up to the other. The fact that he was/is my teacher probably has something to do with it too. I mean with my holding something back, not letting myself completely go. I wanted to share more. Robert said my being there was already enough. I respect his opinion a lot. Maybe too much. Maybe Robert is my guru. I feel I can get a lot of support from him. I shouldn't depend on that though. Yet I truly believe that Robert is a great teacher. He lets me be who I am and even encourages that - he encourages me to be more of that. Teacher-student relationships have always been slightly delicate and political to me. I think twice or even three times what I am going to say to a teacher. Robert asks for the essence. He supports my intimacy research. He congratulates me with my blog texts. He finds them enjoyable and touching. Robert is more like a friend actually. So why should I worry about political correctness? Why should I think twice. He tells me about love affairs, the loss of love, the death of his father, about swinger clubs and tantra workshops.
I told him about my fear of being a pedophile once. I wanted to make a political piece about pedophilia, about therapy and intimate stuff exposed. He told me not to start from a problem, but to expose the intimate stuff as a celebration. That's how "White Horse - an attempt at live therapy" came into being.
And now he asked me again about love and where my heart rests. In the end I felt compelled and relieved to tell him about my obsession with Rodrigo. The shame and blame I put on myself for not being able to let go. And of course he could totally relate to that. He didn't tell me to move on like everybody else does including my therapist. Instead he feels I should give myself three years to overcome this obsession. That sounds like a reasonable amount of time. If I keep blaming myself for not getting over it I will never get over it. Besides it is my right as an artist to be obsessed - self-obsessed or obsessed with others. And loving someone without being loved in return is not something to be ashamed of. The problem is not the obsession maybe, but the shame and guilt that go along with it. So I guess that's what I needed to hear from Robert. That I am ok. That loving too much in solitude is ok, that fetishes are ok, obessions are ok and melancholia is ok too.
My perception and mood had been changed by this realization. We walked back to the house boat where Andre had made a delicious fish soup and I was invited for dinner.
We each drew a Tarot card. I got one with a lot of mermaids who were creating a special bond between the sea and the skies. The tears of the sea get dried up by the sun.
First we had a tea and stroop koek and talked about lazy weekend moods.
Robert sometimes stays in bed all day in the weekend reading the papers. He also likes to walk around his house naked for hours on end. When he is alone. Or with lovers. It feels natural to him. He wakes up every morning at 5 am to remember his dreams and goes on dreaming in a waking state. He continues constructing his dreams once he is awake, interpreting them in a way, but not analytically, more intuitively I believe.
He likes to do circular movements in his waist when he wakes up. This movement comes natural to him. I told him that this is a Kundalini exercise. In my Kundalini class we call it grinding. It wakes up the Kundalini energy and is great for digestion. And Silke, the financial secretary at school, told me she learned the same exercise in a ritual stemming from an old Tibetan monk tradition, before the buddhists came to Tibet. I forgot the name of this tradition, but I will ask her again. Robert wasn't aware that this movement comes from any kind of Tibetan monk or Kundalini tradition.
He does it unconsciously. He just does it because his body asks for it first thing in the morning. What I love about Robert is that he often shares intimate details of his life without even being asked.
We ventured out into the drizzling Amsterdam Saturday afternoon under one, big black umbrella. This already provided a quite intimate setting. We hooked arms. Robert told me about a festival director in Bologna with hair on the outside of his ears. Robert said he reminded him of a character out of Lord of the Rings. When he met this guy he felt immediately very intimately connected and they walked arm in arm through Bologna.
Robert is very social. I admire how easy it is for him to meet people and become intimate with them. In that way he is a bit of a role model to me. He talks openly about his narcissistic side. He has discovered the stage and the performer inside rather late in his life. He likes to take pictures of himself on his laptop and publish them on his blog. He finds himself beautiful when he looks at himself in the mirror in the morning. But in a sauna for example he is often bashful about his body. He is a self-indulgent being and wants to celebrate that. Yet he can give a lot of attention, positive energy and love to others. It's true that I can feel quite special in his company.
Later at a bakhlava shop Robert asked me about my relationship with my body. I replied that I am vain - that I worry about losing my hair and getting a belly. I am striving for a perfect body. And I am not at all proud of that. It doesn't go with my values of serenity and inner peace. I tend to think I am too attached to outer appearance. Everybody wants to be desired, no? Especially performers? Somehow I find it reassuring that Robert is vain and doesn't have a problem with it. Rather than change his vanity he wants to celebrate it.
Robert once told me in a feedback that what he really likes in me is my transparency. That's a big word - transparency. And it has stuck with me ever since. I constantly question myself if I am truly being transparent or only pretending to be. More often than not I perceive myself as a total fraud. I notice that it has become very important to me what Robert thinks of me. He has been my teacher and adviser. I appreciate his directness, even bluntness in giving feedback. He always wants to get back to the essence of things, the essence of what we are doing or looking for. That has been immensely valuable for me. At the bakhlava cafe I was looking for something specific. I couldn't exactly lay my finger on it. I loved listening to Robert's stories which were vivid and lush. He gets very enthusiastic and doesn't preach, but babbles like a child - which makes him so human and approachable to me. Was I expecting something from him? I guess I most of all wanted his approval. Maybe I see in him a kind of father figure. And I try to get the recognition my father cannot give me from Robert. I noticed again my tendency of not sharing so much, but being more of a facilitator. I tried to bring up this subject. I even asked him if my analytical and self-critical behavior and way of thinking can be annoying. He said it wasn't annoying, more funny. But that it makes me stay more with myself. Instead of opening up to the other. The fact that he was/is my teacher probably has something to do with it too. I mean with my holding something back, not letting myself completely go. I wanted to share more. Robert said my being there was already enough. I respect his opinion a lot. Maybe too much. Maybe Robert is my guru. I feel I can get a lot of support from him. I shouldn't depend on that though. Yet I truly believe that Robert is a great teacher. He lets me be who I am and even encourages that - he encourages me to be more of that. Teacher-student relationships have always been slightly delicate and political to me. I think twice or even three times what I am going to say to a teacher. Robert asks for the essence. He supports my intimacy research. He congratulates me with my blog texts. He finds them enjoyable and touching. Robert is more like a friend actually. So why should I worry about political correctness? Why should I think twice. He tells me about love affairs, the loss of love, the death of his father, about swinger clubs and tantra workshops.
I told him about my fear of being a pedophile once. I wanted to make a political piece about pedophilia, about therapy and intimate stuff exposed. He told me not to start from a problem, but to expose the intimate stuff as a celebration. That's how "White Horse - an attempt at live therapy" came into being.
And now he asked me again about love and where my heart rests. In the end I felt compelled and relieved to tell him about my obsession with Rodrigo. The shame and blame I put on myself for not being able to let go. And of course he could totally relate to that. He didn't tell me to move on like everybody else does including my therapist. Instead he feels I should give myself three years to overcome this obsession. That sounds like a reasonable amount of time. If I keep blaming myself for not getting over it I will never get over it. Besides it is my right as an artist to be obsessed - self-obsessed or obsessed with others. And loving someone without being loved in return is not something to be ashamed of. The problem is not the obsession maybe, but the shame and guilt that go along with it. So I guess that's what I needed to hear from Robert. That I am ok. That loving too much in solitude is ok, that fetishes are ok, obessions are ok and melancholia is ok too.
My perception and mood had been changed by this realization. We walked back to the house boat where Andre had made a delicious fish soup and I was invited for dinner.
We each drew a Tarot card. I got one with a lot of mermaids who were creating a special bond between the sea and the skies. The tears of the sea get dried up by the sun.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
intimate tea with Raquel at the blue teahouse
This time I didn’t want to be accommodating. I realized that intimacy for me is only taking place if I am sharing as well – I mean sharing deliberately and with a vengeance. So I came into that café and talked Raquel’s head off – about my winter depression, about all my difficulties in the creative process, about healing, therapy, obstacles in life. About fear and longing and loathing in Las Vegas.
I must have sounded like a very depressed grumpy old man. I was complaining, complaining, nothing but complaining. I think Raquel was doing her best to take in all the black mess I was puking on the table. Sometimes she was offering little bits of advice, but mainly just listening. She was very patient – yet slightly surprised, I felt, to find me in such a state. At some point she said something that caught my attention: It was something about people who control so much what they are saying that it doesn’t give you space to enter. I don’t remember why she said it and I didn’t feel she was referring to me at that moment. But it made so much sense to me.
And at one point she said: Stop trying to control life because it is fucking impossible! Which I knew and had heard many times. But at that moment it really sank in and made sense.
Raquel claims to be someone who isn’t able to control what she is saying or thinking. Meaning she doesn’t think or act in a structured way, but rather follows her impulses and intuition. She has tried to live a more structured and controlled life in the past, but it didn’t work for her. She has tried to prepare and organize her thoughts before voicing them. Yet she came to realize that communication runs much more smoothly when she just speaks her mind in a kind of stream-of-consciousness way.
I think for me too that might be a much better way of communicating.
Eventually the conversation became more balanced. Meaning that I gave space to Raquel to puke her mess on the table too. Which she did in a more graceful way. And from there we started constructing new things. We talked about upcoming projects, future things we were looking forward to, hopeful things, not solutions but possibilities.
Raquel told me about a period in her life where she used to sit at a table with friends or family without saying a single word. It was a period when she felt cut off from the world, shy and introverted. And maybe we need periods like that.
I just had one at home at X-mas again. I went to my room even before dessert. My aunt asked me about the weather in Holland and my uncle about the house boats in the canals. I didn't have much to say on either subject. I didn't know how to relate to my family anymore. But now I promise I am changing. I went to the Andy Warhol exhibition and did a laughing meditation there with Helena and silver clouds. I decided during that laughing meditation to perform my life from now on as an active propelling force. I'm done with my victim. My self-pity and my passive everyday routine. My good student needs to die. I'd rather be a clown again than a control freak or wimpy victim.
I must have sounded like a very depressed grumpy old man. I was complaining, complaining, nothing but complaining. I think Raquel was doing her best to take in all the black mess I was puking on the table. Sometimes she was offering little bits of advice, but mainly just listening. She was very patient – yet slightly surprised, I felt, to find me in such a state. At some point she said something that caught my attention: It was something about people who control so much what they are saying that it doesn’t give you space to enter. I don’t remember why she said it and I didn’t feel she was referring to me at that moment. But it made so much sense to me.
And at one point she said: Stop trying to control life because it is fucking impossible! Which I knew and had heard many times. But at that moment it really sank in and made sense.
Raquel claims to be someone who isn’t able to control what she is saying or thinking. Meaning she doesn’t think or act in a structured way, but rather follows her impulses and intuition. She has tried to live a more structured and controlled life in the past, but it didn’t work for her. She has tried to prepare and organize her thoughts before voicing them. Yet she came to realize that communication runs much more smoothly when she just speaks her mind in a kind of stream-of-consciousness way.
I think for me too that might be a much better way of communicating.
Eventually the conversation became more balanced. Meaning that I gave space to Raquel to puke her mess on the table too. Which she did in a more graceful way. And from there we started constructing new things. We talked about upcoming projects, future things we were looking forward to, hopeful things, not solutions but possibilities.
Raquel told me about a period in her life where she used to sit at a table with friends or family without saying a single word. It was a period when she felt cut off from the world, shy and introverted. And maybe we need periods like that.
I just had one at home at X-mas again. I went to my room even before dessert. My aunt asked me about the weather in Holland and my uncle about the house boats in the canals. I didn't have much to say on either subject. I didn't know how to relate to my family anymore. But now I promise I am changing. I went to the Andy Warhol exhibition and did a laughing meditation there with Helena and silver clouds. I decided during that laughing meditation to perform my life from now on as an active propelling force. I'm done with my victim. My self-pity and my passive everyday routine. My good student needs to die. I'd rather be a clown again than a control freak or wimpy victim.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Koen's intimacy
I met Koen at the entrance of the zoo today. At the beginning of the month we had a nice talk after the Amsterdam premiere of Keren's Prize Piece. I felt very good then, grateful, receptive, vulnerable in an open, available way. Koen came up to me after the performance in the bar and we talked about Raimund Hoghe, about the process with Keren, about many things. There were things to talk about. Conversation happened to us. I was happy he came to talk to me then. And we agreed to do an intimate walk on one of his days off.
Koen reminded me of Swiss chansonnier Michael von der Heide today. He had a cold. His voice sounded a bit hoarse. I find him endearing and good-looking. He has this sweet, sad boy look sometimes that I love. We passed some zebras. We didn't talk about intimacy at all. Koen is intimacy embodied. He is very sweet and tender. I hope he will be at the next annual meeting in Oporto. I was determined not to channel or manipulate the conversation in any direction whatsoever. It was an intimate walk merely by the fact that we had agreed to meet and go for an intimate walk. We didn't mention the word intimacy as far as I remember. This is what I found out about Koen: He likes Art Deco. He would like to live in Berlin if it wasn't for his boyfriend who lives in Antwerp. He was impressed by the Japanese architecture in Almere. They performed Keren's piece there and the theater and a lot of houses were built in this Japanese style he liked a lot. He has read two books by this quite popular Japanese author who is on a lot of bestseller lists. At least I think it is him. It's an easy read and quite light hearted. He recommends the film Hairspray with John Travolta. He likes light, uplifting books and films lately. This surprised me because I always saw Koen as someone with a tendency towards the melancholic, dark side. But he can have something frivolous too I guess. He talked to me sometimes with a kind of intimacy I didn't know we had established, a kind of confidential old-friend-you-can-talk-and gossip-about-everything intimacy. We stood in the sun in front of the new public library. He asked me how much the library pass was and I didn't remember. We talked about money more than I was comfortable I think. He talked about the Dutch-Flemish culture gap, about little things that annoy him about the Dutch.
He said that he felt very connected to his family at a recent funeral of his uncle. He isn't really looking forward to spending X-mas with his family. But the funeral bonding he appreciated. He likes to cook and when he is in Antwerp he likes to stay at home a lot. His boyfriend Dan likes to go out though. He ordered a toasti and tomato soup at the Star Bikes cafe. Later he met Annette (she was the dramaturge in his last duet) at the Central Station. They wanted to go to the Van Gogh museum. There was an exhibition about Barcelona art. He invited me to join them. But I really liked the music at the cafe. It was lounge/house music. Quite unusual for the cafe. But it was perfect for my mood which was a bit melancholic. I wasn't completely satisfied with the reading on my intimacy thermometer.
Koen insisted on treating me to my Power Chai. I protested weakly and then let him. I didn't have any cash on me anyway. Koen left and I stayed. Maybe I had hoped to spend more time with him, I think I wanted to share more with him about my personal turbulences of the moment. Instead I had stayed rather placid. Had I at least succeeded in being a facilitator? I wonder if he felt intimately connected. Or if he too felt that our encounter had stayed on a superficial level.
If intimacy is about sharing maybe he was satisfied about his part of the sharing. He had shared quite freely. I think he felt comfortable with me. And I have reason to be happy if that's the case.
So what was the cause of my slight disappointment? I think it's the fact that I tend to stay too much in control: I am so nice, pleasant, accommodating sometimes that in the end I realize that I wasn't really voicing any clear opinion, offering any resistance, counterpoint, friction. Everything had run smoothly. It had been a pleasant, uneventful meeting. And they lived happily ever after.
Koen reminded me of Swiss chansonnier Michael von der Heide today. He had a cold. His voice sounded a bit hoarse. I find him endearing and good-looking. He has this sweet, sad boy look sometimes that I love. We passed some zebras. We didn't talk about intimacy at all. Koen is intimacy embodied. He is very sweet and tender. I hope he will be at the next annual meeting in Oporto. I was determined not to channel or manipulate the conversation in any direction whatsoever. It was an intimate walk merely by the fact that we had agreed to meet and go for an intimate walk. We didn't mention the word intimacy as far as I remember. This is what I found out about Koen: He likes Art Deco. He would like to live in Berlin if it wasn't for his boyfriend who lives in Antwerp. He was impressed by the Japanese architecture in Almere. They performed Keren's piece there and the theater and a lot of houses were built in this Japanese style he liked a lot. He has read two books by this quite popular Japanese author who is on a lot of bestseller lists. At least I think it is him. It's an easy read and quite light hearted. He recommends the film Hairspray with John Travolta. He likes light, uplifting books and films lately. This surprised me because I always saw Koen as someone with a tendency towards the melancholic, dark side. But he can have something frivolous too I guess. He talked to me sometimes with a kind of intimacy I didn't know we had established, a kind of confidential old-friend-you-can-talk-and gossip-about-everything intimacy. We stood in the sun in front of the new public library. He asked me how much the library pass was and I didn't remember. We talked about money more than I was comfortable I think. He talked about the Dutch-Flemish culture gap, about little things that annoy him about the Dutch.
He said that he felt very connected to his family at a recent funeral of his uncle. He isn't really looking forward to spending X-mas with his family. But the funeral bonding he appreciated. He likes to cook and when he is in Antwerp he likes to stay at home a lot. His boyfriend Dan likes to go out though. He ordered a toasti and tomato soup at the Star Bikes cafe. Later he met Annette (she was the dramaturge in his last duet) at the Central Station. They wanted to go to the Van Gogh museum. There was an exhibition about Barcelona art. He invited me to join them. But I really liked the music at the cafe. It was lounge/house music. Quite unusual for the cafe. But it was perfect for my mood which was a bit melancholic. I wasn't completely satisfied with the reading on my intimacy thermometer.
Koen insisted on treating me to my Power Chai. I protested weakly and then let him. I didn't have any cash on me anyway. Koen left and I stayed. Maybe I had hoped to spend more time with him, I think I wanted to share more with him about my personal turbulences of the moment. Instead I had stayed rather placid. Had I at least succeeded in being a facilitator? I wonder if he felt intimately connected. Or if he too felt that our encounter had stayed on a superficial level.
If intimacy is about sharing maybe he was satisfied about his part of the sharing. He had shared quite freely. I think he felt comfortable with me. And I have reason to be happy if that's the case.
So what was the cause of my slight disappointment? I think it's the fact that I tend to stay too much in control: I am so nice, pleasant, accommodating sometimes that in the end I realize that I wasn't really voicing any clear opinion, offering any resistance, counterpoint, friction. Everything had run smoothly. It had been a pleasant, uneventful meeting. And they lived happily ever after.
reflections on the research
I am collecting people on this blog, collecting and archiving experiences with people.
Each person is a tool to help me understand better what I am doing.
I am not an academic researcher like Jan. But I am like Jan trying to accommodate intimacy, trying to create conditions for it to flourish. I am facilitating intimacy.
I am doing this because in my family we never talked much about feelings, sexuality, intimate stuff.
I am doing this because I want to overcome shyness. I want to show more emotions in public. I want to share more about myself, show more of myself.
I also want to be an empty vessel to receive others, to give the space to others to express themselves and talk about intimate, subtle things that move them.
I wonder if I really need to set clear parameters. Do people need to know that they are on an intimate walk with me? How much shall I influence the course of the conversation?
Do I need to bring the conversation back to intimacy when it digresses too much?
Intimacy can be so vast and vague. Still birth is on the contrary very specific.
Do I need to have a stronger backbone, put my foot down and be more manipulative to get what I want out of this research?
For the last two weeks I have been very lazy, burned out, depressed. The rehearsal process with Katy for our duet "enter my bubble" was very difficult. Towards the end we got on each others' nerves. We were moody, judgmental, defensive. We pitied ourselves and didn't want to bear the pressure and responsibility that come with such a big production by its very nature.
So I was hiding out in Roberta's studio, didn't go to class, experienced angst, loneliness and a general sense of guilt and blame.
I watched Billy Elliott on DVD and cried throughout the film. I was super proud. Finally I was able to release my tears. My psychologist says that was because the film reflects the needs and longings I experience in my own family situation. I have a deep, unsatisfied need to be respected, loved and supported by my father - to have a meaningful relationship with my father. Maybe my therapist is right. He says that crying always expresses a need, a strong desire or longing.
In Freudian terms (which he thinks are outdated) crying is the release of too much pent-up emotion. Since last summer I had three major crying events. The first one was with my mother. It was triggered by a sense of helplessness and losing control and frustration. The second one was after Rodrigo's intimate walk while watching his video. The third one was with Billy Elliott. So these were moments when I felt very intimate with myself. I was able to express strong needs/desires and in the process experience change.
The other day I was walking with Aitana in Vondelpark. It was cold and sunny and I told her about my coming-out-of-depression adventure with this boy I ended up going home with after de Truut. I am very glad to have Aitana in my life because she confronts me with my patterns and my weaknesses. And she challenges me to explore more options, to follow my desire and to be more playful. I didn't want to kiss this boy because I was worrying about a funny taste in my mouth. Aitana could relate to that because she also worries about funny tastes in her mouth. She said that kissing for her is one of the most intimate acts in sex. That walk with Aitana was an intimate walk as well even though we didn't frame it as such. I remember I felt a great support and respect from Aitana. I feel she allows and even encourages me to change and become more of myself while totally respecting where I am and who I am.
Each person is a tool to help me understand better what I am doing.
I am not an academic researcher like Jan. But I am like Jan trying to accommodate intimacy, trying to create conditions for it to flourish. I am facilitating intimacy.
I am doing this because in my family we never talked much about feelings, sexuality, intimate stuff.
I am doing this because I want to overcome shyness. I want to show more emotions in public. I want to share more about myself, show more of myself.
I also want to be an empty vessel to receive others, to give the space to others to express themselves and talk about intimate, subtle things that move them.
I wonder if I really need to set clear parameters. Do people need to know that they are on an intimate walk with me? How much shall I influence the course of the conversation?
Do I need to bring the conversation back to intimacy when it digresses too much?
Intimacy can be so vast and vague. Still birth is on the contrary very specific.
Do I need to have a stronger backbone, put my foot down and be more manipulative to get what I want out of this research?
For the last two weeks I have been very lazy, burned out, depressed. The rehearsal process with Katy for our duet "enter my bubble" was very difficult. Towards the end we got on each others' nerves. We were moody, judgmental, defensive. We pitied ourselves and didn't want to bear the pressure and responsibility that come with such a big production by its very nature.
So I was hiding out in Roberta's studio, didn't go to class, experienced angst, loneliness and a general sense of guilt and blame.
I watched Billy Elliott on DVD and cried throughout the film. I was super proud. Finally I was able to release my tears. My psychologist says that was because the film reflects the needs and longings I experience in my own family situation. I have a deep, unsatisfied need to be respected, loved and supported by my father - to have a meaningful relationship with my father. Maybe my therapist is right. He says that crying always expresses a need, a strong desire or longing.
In Freudian terms (which he thinks are outdated) crying is the release of too much pent-up emotion. Since last summer I had three major crying events. The first one was with my mother. It was triggered by a sense of helplessness and losing control and frustration. The second one was after Rodrigo's intimate walk while watching his video. The third one was with Billy Elliott. So these were moments when I felt very intimate with myself. I was able to express strong needs/desires and in the process experience change.
The other day I was walking with Aitana in Vondelpark. It was cold and sunny and I told her about my coming-out-of-depression adventure with this boy I ended up going home with after de Truut. I am very glad to have Aitana in my life because she confronts me with my patterns and my weaknesses. And she challenges me to explore more options, to follow my desire and to be more playful. I didn't want to kiss this boy because I was worrying about a funny taste in my mouth. Aitana could relate to that because she also worries about funny tastes in her mouth. She said that kissing for her is one of the most intimate acts in sex. That walk with Aitana was an intimate walk as well even though we didn't frame it as such. I remember I felt a great support and respect from Aitana. I feel she allows and even encourages me to change and become more of myself while totally respecting where I am and who I am.
recent intimacy with Jan on top of loud music
To come out of my winter depression I have started to go out more.
Yesterday I met Jan from Leuven who does research on still births (when a baby is born dead). He studied history before and now is doing his PHD on the phenomenon of still birth. He places ads all over Belgium and then goes to people's homes who volunteer to talk about their experience. He interviews people. He is a good listener. But that evening at the Badhuis party he was talking a lot and I was listening mainly. Looking back I think it's quite special that he told me so much about still birth in this very loud party environment. I was genuinely interested in his research topic. Plus I found him very intelligent and quite attractive. I was feeling pretty good about myself yesterday - outgoing, slightly intoxicated, accommodating.
He has found that the most efficient way of interviewing people is not asking too many questions but just letting them talk. He tells them at the beginning that everything they are willing to share is of interest to him and that they cannot do anything wrong.
I found some similarities between his research on still births and my research on intimacy. Both raise the question of emotions in public. Fifty years ago parents dealt very differently with still births than nowadays. Then it was all about letting go and moving on. A still birth was met with silence. Doctors, midwives and other professionals assisting with the still birth dealt with the situation in a professional, detached way. Today intimacy, the sharing and voicing of emotions are stressed. Fathers are encouraged to hold the dead body close to their own body - a moment of bonding - fathers have yet to become fathers. Skinship. Skin-to-skin intimacy.
I was under the impression and under the influence. Jan had Flemish charm. Later we danced. For an academic he is a very good mover. I liked his structured and well reflected way of communicating with a subtle sense of humor. He has something very grounded and sincere. And I could tell that he loves what he does. He has a passion for it and is reliable and dedicated. Yes, I confess I was checking him out. I allowed myself to sense some underlying sexual tension.
Actually Lea was the reason we met. She likes to play matchmaker and is interested in opening up my vision for potential intimates. Thank you Lea. I enjoyed meeting Jan.
Too bad he is moving back to Leuven in one week where he will finish his research and Phd by September 2009. We left Badhuis together cycling towards Central Station. He lives very central in a small room in the red-light district. We stopped in front of his place for a while talking. I thought about the possibility of physical intimacy with him. I felt we were both too modest and nice. Yes I think he is a genuinely nice person. And I was afraid of involving him in my messed-up and complicated sex life. He gave me his Belgian number and talked about Stuk in Leuven and that I should apply for a residency there. We gave a good-night kiss. I said wel te rusten. And he said slaap wel in Flemish.
Yesterday I met Jan from Leuven who does research on still births (when a baby is born dead). He studied history before and now is doing his PHD on the phenomenon of still birth. He places ads all over Belgium and then goes to people's homes who volunteer to talk about their experience. He interviews people. He is a good listener. But that evening at the Badhuis party he was talking a lot and I was listening mainly. Looking back I think it's quite special that he told me so much about still birth in this very loud party environment. I was genuinely interested in his research topic. Plus I found him very intelligent and quite attractive. I was feeling pretty good about myself yesterday - outgoing, slightly intoxicated, accommodating.
He has found that the most efficient way of interviewing people is not asking too many questions but just letting them talk. He tells them at the beginning that everything they are willing to share is of interest to him and that they cannot do anything wrong.
I found some similarities between his research on still births and my research on intimacy. Both raise the question of emotions in public. Fifty years ago parents dealt very differently with still births than nowadays. Then it was all about letting go and moving on. A still birth was met with silence. Doctors, midwives and other professionals assisting with the still birth dealt with the situation in a professional, detached way. Today intimacy, the sharing and voicing of emotions are stressed. Fathers are encouraged to hold the dead body close to their own body - a moment of bonding - fathers have yet to become fathers. Skinship. Skin-to-skin intimacy.
I was under the impression and under the influence. Jan had Flemish charm. Later we danced. For an academic he is a very good mover. I liked his structured and well reflected way of communicating with a subtle sense of humor. He has something very grounded and sincere. And I could tell that he loves what he does. He has a passion for it and is reliable and dedicated. Yes, I confess I was checking him out. I allowed myself to sense some underlying sexual tension.
Actually Lea was the reason we met. She likes to play matchmaker and is interested in opening up my vision for potential intimates. Thank you Lea. I enjoyed meeting Jan.
Too bad he is moving back to Leuven in one week where he will finish his research and Phd by September 2009. We left Badhuis together cycling towards Central Station. He lives very central in a small room in the red-light district. We stopped in front of his place for a while talking. I thought about the possibility of physical intimacy with him. I felt we were both too modest and nice. Yes I think he is a genuinely nice person. And I was afraid of involving him in my messed-up and complicated sex life. He gave me his Belgian number and talked about Stuk in Leuven and that I should apply for a residency there. We gave a good-night kiss. I said wel te rusten. And he said slaap wel in Flemish.
reflections on the research
I apologize for neglecting and postponing reports of intimate walks in the near and distant past. Sometimes I don’t find the time to immediately sit down after an intimate walk and report on the intimacy experienced. There are still some walks back in France that haven’t been reported yet. I feel guilty for having put these blog entries off for such a long time. For sure I don’t remember a lot of intimate details about these walks back in September. It’s a shame and a pity! And I find it a lack of respect for the people involved.
I realize that in most blog entries I have given a lot of attention to detail. They almost seem like chronological and psychological descriptions of a specific experience from A to Z. I am aware that I write very much from a subjective point of view. Therefore I always thought that by writing about my experience and my impressions I expose above all my own intimacy – and not so much the intimacy of the other. I think I’m quite ok with that.
But now I have started to question the value of my format. Why do I try to recount so meticulously the succession of events in each walk? Is the sense of duty to give a detailed and accurate report overshadowing the real search for intimacy?
I still believe that this project is about negotiating and finding intimacy. And this is different with each person. With some people I find more of an emotional connection, others stimulate me intellectually, and still others touch me by the shyness they provoke in me or by their own shyness. Yes I think intimacy has a lot to do with shyness for me. Is it ultimately about overcoming shyness? Could be.
I feel I need to change the way I write about these walks. Sometimes it is not even during the walk itself that intimacy happens, but in the café after the walk or the day after while watching a video. I think I want to focus more on the essence of what intimacy can be with each person. Otherwise it is mere memory work or I lose myself in the psychological analysis.
I realize that in most blog entries I have given a lot of attention to detail. They almost seem like chronological and psychological descriptions of a specific experience from A to Z. I am aware that I write very much from a subjective point of view. Therefore I always thought that by writing about my experience and my impressions I expose above all my own intimacy – and not so much the intimacy of the other. I think I’m quite ok with that.
But now I have started to question the value of my format. Why do I try to recount so meticulously the succession of events in each walk? Is the sense of duty to give a detailed and accurate report overshadowing the real search for intimacy?
I still believe that this project is about negotiating and finding intimacy. And this is different with each person. With some people I find more of an emotional connection, others stimulate me intellectually, and still others touch me by the shyness they provoke in me or by their own shyness. Yes I think intimacy has a lot to do with shyness for me. Is it ultimately about overcoming shyness? Could be.
I feel I need to change the way I write about these walks. Sometimes it is not even during the walk itself that intimacy happens, but in the café after the walk or the day after while watching a video. I think I want to focus more on the essence of what intimacy can be with each person. Otherwise it is mere memory work or I lose myself in the psychological analysis.
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