Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.63.0602140249280.13936@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>,
"WRYTING-L : Writing and Theory across Disciplines" <WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA>
Subject: genlauf
Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2006 02:49:45 -0500 (EST)
genlauf Most usually you do not write me, and for those of you who are unreading, those of you I do not know. But you are on the same wires and in the same habitus nonetheless, otherwise separated since the beginning of communi- cation among us. Always the telephone appears the last resort, only a century and more old, but the grain of the voice, the guarantee of presence however distanced. From here in Geneva, international city of UNO and communications, Alabama room of the Geneva Convention, I wander from place to place, searching for connectivity fix, tenuous, fragile, precious in the sense of vector thrown into uncanny space. The unbelievably small space of the city, perhaps a kilometer or two, is sufficient for meander from sleeping space to rehearsal space, that most intense communication of bodies in largesse presenced within one another, the room with the scent of movement, emotional tensors. Like you perhaps we held our breath, almost in tears, as the Chinese pair skated to second place after a fall that would be devastating to any dancer, and is always present, the potential for a living career ended in one inadvertency. I search for your presence among the bodies here, the lived wires, the plugs peculiar to Switzerland for the most part, the coursing of electrical current, Romania and Croatia and Bulgaria loud on the short-wave. The waters from the Jet d'Eau course through our veins as we imagine skate-boarding perhaps 130 meters up in an artificial tornado that would break a finger faster than a match-stick, close down the throat, explode the body across the lake. As far as we can tell, no one has done this, although all our lives we're picking up the pieces. http://www.asondheim.org/genlauf.mp4