On the shortest day of the year- the winter Solstice in a 5000-year-old prehistoric chamber in Ireland a soul is hanging on a from the ceiling on a thin silver cord, beneath buried in the ground is a beating heart. 13,000 years ago, in Mexico lay the bones of 16-year-old girl who died lost in a deep cave looking for water. The rising sun on the Winter Solstice enters to the back of the Irish chamber and the Mexican cave and the light in the darkness bringing the possibility of two spirits finding their way. These are images from a new Brittle Sisters dance. A dance that began in the new year from my work in a workshop by Marissa Niederhauser called Dance Spell.
A Celebration of Life
If I Die–Pablo Neruda
IfI die, survive me with such sheer force
that you awaken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun dream through your singing mouth,
I don’t want your laughter or your steps to waver,
I don’t want y heritage of joy to die.
Don’t call upmy person. I am absent.
Live in my absence as if in a house.
Absence is a house so vast
that inside you will pass through it’s walls
and hang pictures on the air
Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love,I will die again.