I did a second walk with Min on our day off before going to the swimming pool. We had slept in and most people had gone to Reims in the morning to inspect the theaters there. It was Thursday but felt like a Sunday. We talked about the possibility of Min visiting me in Switzerland during the X-mas break. But since I will be working on our new piece "enter my bubble" in a residency in Bern, we thought maybe it would be too stressful and not the right time for a visit. I'm really happy that I have so many great working opportunities this coming year. But on the other hand it frightens me a bit thinking that the schedule will be so packed and there's not even space to spend some days with a visiting friend. This is exactly the conflict I know so well: Do I place ambition before friendship, discipline before emotional needs, professional responsibility before relationships? This conflict also plays a role in this intimacy research. To what extent do I follow my desire? To what degree can I stay professionally detached in my approach to searching for intimacy? Do I want to stay detached, in control, objective?
No for sure not. What I write here is very much filtered through my own subjective experience. I cannot and do not want to document my intimate activities from the neutral and cold perspective of a scientist. But I am aware that writing about and thus exposing the intimate encounters with real people is stepping on delicate ground. In a talk I had with Lucie she was wondering how much I give back to the guinea pigs who volunteer to participate in my research. Am I using them for my own selfish purposes? Is it ethically correct to extract intimate confessions from my victims/volunteers on our walks or in bed and then expose them the next day on the blog? Is it o.k. to create this setting of trust and intimate complicity without a longterm commitment to protect and take care of what has been built during the encounter? Most people who have participated so far in my research have told me they trust me. They feel that my motivation for this research stems from a genuine interest and desire to connect with people and learn more about myself in the process. So what precautionary measures must I take not to betray this trust? Is there something wrong with using people for my own purposes, as long as these purposes have an aim bigger than myself? I am thinking of an idiom or expression by some philosopher now who said something quite important and universal on this subject. But I don't remember the exact words nor who said it.
Antonio told me I should be a professional hustler. But who is actually the prostitute here? Is it me or the people I sleep and walk with? What do these people get out of sleeping and walking with me?
This is the last week of our residency at PAF and the general atmosphere is one of stress and last minute rehearsals and preparations to get ready for the presentations in Reims. I have been less enthusiastic to propose my intimate activities to people these last days because there doesn't seem to be the time and space for it. I'm not exactly stressed about presentations in Reims but the general atmosphere has an effect on me nonetheless. I get tired and frustrated by lengthy, drawn-out discussions about the organization and future of this group. As a result I feel less available an willing to be intimate with people. Because what I am quite sure of for now is that intimacy requires a certain openness and availability for the other. When I don't feel I can provide this I am very reluctant to go on my search for intimacy. In fact it feels wrong and preposterous to go for an intimate encounter when I am not available for it.
I have gone off on an intellectual tangent. Let's get back to the tangible, simple encounter: Min and I walked on the paved road towards the horizon. The sky was black. We felt tired and lazy but happy to be outside in the open. It was going to rain. We took a field path and arrived to a picturesque picnic spot surrounded by some trees and bushes. In front of us there was a hilly meadow for horses. We decided to sit down. We took off our shoes. It started to drizzle. We took off our shirts. Min asked me if I had ever taken a shower in the rain, a natural shower. I remembered a heavy, warm rainfall during a youth camp when we all danced and jumped around in puddles in a pine forest in southern Switzerland. Min and I stripped to our underwear and sat for a moment in meditation pose. The light rain opened up our pores and I imagined my skin in osmosis with the world around me. Pretty soon I developed goose bumps.
We got up and ran barefoot into the meadow through the long grass like horses. It felt like in a movie, a National Geographic documentary on wild horses. It felt great. We galloped uphill and started breathing hard, our lungs expanding. We arrived on top of the hill. The horizon opened up in front of us. This world belonged to us. We were on top of the world, in the middle of the universe. The grass tickled our legs as we ran back to the picnic spot. I felt alive and powerful. Embodying a horse is an empowering experience. When I think about it now this horse episode feels so surreal like in a dream. In the moment it was all we needed to know. Where we were is what we needed.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
intimate interview with Jan Ritsema
Sleeping Beauty: How do you define intimacy for yourself?
Jan Ritsema: Of course I thought a little bit about it. Intimacy in principle means not to be timid or “timide”(in French)
SB: Ah it has something to do with timid.
JR: I don’t know. But of course In is non. Inconscience, Incontinent. So the meaning of in is non. So its non-timide. And that’s what is intimate. The interesting thing is that we change intimacy to a very small space, a very safe space where you can be intimate, we think. But what we mean with intimate is not "timide", is open to everything, is borderless, is every protection away, in principle. And it’s not just a small space where you can….
And then of course in history it’s got a very sexual connotation. For me ideal for society would be if we did not use the word intimacy. A society that is not timid. Timid is not a quality. When someone says someone is shy “Oh he or she is soo shy”- you have fear, that’s why you are shy. Intimacy is not a quality. Intimacy is a quality but it shouldn’t be called intimacy. It’s just that you are open. In this fearful society where everyone is putting daggers in each others’ back, usurping each other - the neo-capitalist society is like this - in this society intimacy is reduced to the bed, or to the most private space where you dare to be without protection.
So intimacy is the space where you are without the fear that forces you to protect yourself.
SB: Is this intimacy something you try to achieve in your life?
JR: Yes, I try to be as intimate as possible. I don’t think timidity is a quality.
SB: Quality meaning something good?
JR: Yes. But on the personal level, I always said about myself that I have an intimacy addiction. My mother died when I was three. So the little boy is still looking for protection. That’s the other meaning of intimacy, that is to be in a fully protected surrounding, in mommy’s arms, and feel safe. That’s not how I think we should read and use intimacy. Intimacy should be the normal state of us, namely without fear of each other. There is no need to be fearful.
SB: So it’s also a lot about complete trust?
JR: The word trust is not in my vocabulary. That’s another story. You cannot trust anybody.
Religion and power need people to be fearful, to ask for protection. They play the protectors. Their alibi for power is offering protection. It’s just a Mafia principle. We burn your shop or we protect you. And you pay us for the protection.
It’s the same “chantage” of religion and of every power position of somebody else over us. You have to trust that we don’t put fire on your shop if you pay us every month 1000 Euros, if you come to our Church. Then we don’t put fire on your shop – that’s hell. It’s Mafia – church.
So trust is an invention of people that want to have power over you. Trust does not exist. It cannot exist. We are unable to trust each other.
SB: What about trusting yourself?
JR: And I mean really trusting each other. You can never be sure if you can trust somebody. Never. You cannot know it. So don’t use it.
SB: What about being intimate with yourself or trusting yourself?
JR: How can you not be intimate with yourself? If you are not intimate with yourself you are ripe for personal problems. I must admit that many people are ripe for that.
SB: Yes I think for a lot of people it’s difficult to be intimate in general, and to be intimate with themselves.
JR: I don’t understand this. That’s the interesting thing: You cannot be intimate with yourself!
SB: You cannot?
JR: No.
SB: Cause it’s always about a relationship with someone else?
JR: No, intimate with yourself is a relation with yourself. Whatever tricks you use, whatever mutations and lies you make up about yourself, in principle they are all clear to you. Yourself is an open field to you. You cannot protect yourself from yourself. You can protect yourself from the others, but not from yourself. You are the victim and the perpetrator. You cannot harass yourself. You cannot rape yourself
SB: Hmm….Ok. I’m really trying to take in all this information. But it’s quite a lot. - Do you think intimacy is something we can create for ourselves in a relationship with others? Or is it something that just happens by chance when we don’t look for it? Can we create conditions for it?
JR: Yes, of course. It’s by eliminating the boundaries of protection. Every boundary you take away makes you less “timide”. So the less you act as a fortress, the less timid you are. But a fortress can have many forms. A fortress can act as if it’s very open. So the defense system can be “I’m so open, so open, so open! Let’s say everything. I am here. Ah you are so nice!” But you never allow a merging state. So intimacy is the moment where you merge, dissolve with the world around it. We are all very intimate with oxygen. We love it. We are intimate with a lot of food. So it’s where the filters, the membranes that filter whatever information comes to you, filter as little as possible.
SB: Mmmh - thanks. So when you see a performance – do you sometimes use the word intimacy or intimate to describe what you see in the theater? Or how do you relate that term to the theater. Cause I think it’s used a lot in my experience when there is an intimate setting, when there is very little audience, or when it’s a very closed space. what is for you an intimate performance?
JR: That for sure not. Because this reading of intimacy (going to a very private, protected situation) is not what I call intimacy. Intimacy has to go the other way around. You have to take away your borders and should not withdraw to a small corner. So I cannot imagine any performance that is intimate.
SB: According to your concept of intimacy it would be a performance where the performers cross a lot of boundaries and open up a lot of possibilities. So really liberating …that would be intimate?
JR: Yeah …(thinks) But it’s a very complicated thing. I know a performance- when I was professor at the Rijksacademie in Amsterdam – we invited every now and then performances. There was a group of visual artists/performers who asked us to sit around a big table. We were thirty people around the table. And they were on the table and under the table shitting and masturbating and pissing, putting it on themselves and mixing it, and using some masks and costumes and whatever but …. So that sounds as if this was borderless. It’s transgressive performance. People of course walked out of it because they had to vomit. But I don’t know – I wouldn’t use the word intimate. The action of being borderless is not intimate. It’s an aggressive action. So it’s like trust. It is a word that shouldn’t exist. It should be the normal state.
SB: Yes, but that is talking ideally. It is not reality.
JR: Intimacy is not something you make. It is an ontological state. It’s something you are.
SB: What is ontological?
JR: To be. It is like this. That’s ontological. It’s not a process. It’s a fact. It’s a state of being.
SB: Is intimacy something you are interested in seeing in the theater? Or in your own work?
JR: Not to see as a subject. But yes I’m interested in theater that does not protect itself so much. I’m not interested in all the masking that’s connected to theater.
SB: So you mean also theater that takes risks? If it doesn’t protect itself.it’s more risk-taking, no?
JR: I don’t know. What is theater that takes risks?
SB: For me it’s going into the unknown and not putting clear boundaries of how far this can go…
JR: I cannot make theater out of going to the unknown. Theater is a space that is occupied with certain actions during a certain time. Can this be more intimate or less? – I’m interested in soft. I am not interested in hard. I’m not interested in virtuosity. That is creating borders. I’m interested in soft.
SB: Subtle?
JR: Yes, for sure. Sensitive. But not in an esoteric way. Your brains can be very smart. And that I would call sensitive. Very smart and precise. I always talk about being specific. Try to be as clear as you can be. And that’s soft It’s all about being as little protected as possible. There is a state between the stage and the audience where it is easy to dissolve. Not to dissolve in being drawn by spectacularity. It’s necessary for me that people stay independent, that people stay independent but that they also want to dissolve.
SB: Do you think intimacy is possible on the web? Virtual intimacy? Or can it only happen in real time face to face?
JR: If intimacy is being as borderless as possible, then within the context of the border on the web that is communicating by screens, I would say no there is no intimacy. The screen is in between.
SB: Because I think there aren’t as many ways of negotiating or measuring intimacy on the web. I’m still stuck with this idea of trust. How far can you go? On the web you can say much more and then just delete it again.
JR: Maybe when I think about it now – even when you do skype-fucking you always stay alone. There is a certain way of dissolving a little bit, but it’s very task-oriented. No the web is certainly not made for intimacy.
SB: And still I think a lot of people are looking for intimacy on the web and spend much more time looking for it on the web than in real life.
JR: Yes of course, because it’s in the context of the protection of the screen, this huge membrane that filters everything. So you can never really be touched. Intimacy presupposes a sharing, I would say. When I was talking about dissolving, merging before – I mean on the web there is the idea of merging too. But it’s not happening. It’s very much an as if situation. That’s why we call it virtual.
SB: Do you think intimacy is disappearing? Do you think it is an endangered species?
JB: The more you live in a society of screens, you will communicate by screens. I always say why I like theater is because it’s the only place since the church is empty where we are all together alive. This live togetherness with strangers is something very specific to the performing arts.
We communicate so much by screens, whether it’s a computer, or a television or a telephone or whatever, they all have interfaces. And everyone who was born knows what it is to be taken in the arms of the mother, to have physical contact, to appropriate the world around you, whether it is oxygen or a piece of meat. You are all the time merging. You are appropriating the world and you are contaminating the world with your things. Our words, communication, are a way of infecting each other. I contaminate your mind with my words and you have to try and live with it – which is very difficult of course after what I’ve said. (chuckles)
SB: Have you had a chance to visit my blog? I would be interested to get some feedback from you. I want to go on with this research but also think about ways to put it in a performative frame. I wonder if it should be a lecture demonstration in Reims next week.
JR: What I see on the blog is a little bit this sweet and tender ..... social, nice atmosphere, esoteric thing. But basically the "demarche" about intimacy I like. It’s in all my work. My work is about this.
SB: About finding intimacy?
JR: About trying to be borderless. If you would do some more brain effort ..... ( ).... I think Derrida said a lot about this. You should watch this interview with Derrida. I show him because he is very intimate. This Eva Verdes is also very intimate. It’s naïve, but it’s one to one. And Derrida when he talks about his childhood and his fear about writing, it’s very intimate. I support this. But not in an esoteric way. I’m not interested in doing intimate in a fine, nice world.
SB: Why do you say esoteric?
JR: Because then it becomes a culture. Then it’s like in the screen as if we do intimate. You can create here a subculture of intimacy, of nice people who love each other very much and fuck around. A sixties commune that does “intimate”. And I don’t want to have a retreat behind the walls of PAF because then you go to the private situation of the idea of intimacy when you are in a bed with somebody. You have to look for ways of being intimate at the table. And you have a tendency to be – also the way you speak is quite soft. So intimacy is about being intimate in public, which doesn’t mean that you have to fuck on top of cars in the center of Paris. That is being transgressive. That’s also ok to be sometimes transgressive.
So for me a blog about this ? ( )…. – but a brain work please! I gave some notions in this talk - there is a lot to think about - I twist intimacy completely from private to public. The way Derrida talks in his interview has for me the dignity of intimacy. And I like to combine these two words. It’s nobility. And that is the ability to merge, to dissolve – and not to grasp. We are in a grasping, in a colonizing culture, in an appropriating culture. And not in a sharing exchange culture, which is a much richer culture.
Jan Ritsema: Of course I thought a little bit about it. Intimacy in principle means not to be timid or “timide”(in French)
SB: Ah it has something to do with timid.
JR: I don’t know. But of course In is non. Inconscience, Incontinent. So the meaning of in is non. So its non-timide. And that’s what is intimate. The interesting thing is that we change intimacy to a very small space, a very safe space where you can be intimate, we think. But what we mean with intimate is not "timide", is open to everything, is borderless, is every protection away, in principle. And it’s not just a small space where you can….
And then of course in history it’s got a very sexual connotation. For me ideal for society would be if we did not use the word intimacy. A society that is not timid. Timid is not a quality. When someone says someone is shy “Oh he or she is soo shy”- you have fear, that’s why you are shy. Intimacy is not a quality. Intimacy is a quality but it shouldn’t be called intimacy. It’s just that you are open. In this fearful society where everyone is putting daggers in each others’ back, usurping each other - the neo-capitalist society is like this - in this society intimacy is reduced to the bed, or to the most private space where you dare to be without protection.
So intimacy is the space where you are without the fear that forces you to protect yourself.
SB: Is this intimacy something you try to achieve in your life?
JR: Yes, I try to be as intimate as possible. I don’t think timidity is a quality.
SB: Quality meaning something good?
JR: Yes. But on the personal level, I always said about myself that I have an intimacy addiction. My mother died when I was three. So the little boy is still looking for protection. That’s the other meaning of intimacy, that is to be in a fully protected surrounding, in mommy’s arms, and feel safe. That’s not how I think we should read and use intimacy. Intimacy should be the normal state of us, namely without fear of each other. There is no need to be fearful.
SB: So it’s also a lot about complete trust?
JR: The word trust is not in my vocabulary. That’s another story. You cannot trust anybody.
Religion and power need people to be fearful, to ask for protection. They play the protectors. Their alibi for power is offering protection. It’s just a Mafia principle. We burn your shop or we protect you. And you pay us for the protection.
It’s the same “chantage” of religion and of every power position of somebody else over us. You have to trust that we don’t put fire on your shop if you pay us every month 1000 Euros, if you come to our Church. Then we don’t put fire on your shop – that’s hell. It’s Mafia – church.
So trust is an invention of people that want to have power over you. Trust does not exist. It cannot exist. We are unable to trust each other.
SB: What about trusting yourself?
JR: And I mean really trusting each other. You can never be sure if you can trust somebody. Never. You cannot know it. So don’t use it.
SB: What about being intimate with yourself or trusting yourself?
JR: How can you not be intimate with yourself? If you are not intimate with yourself you are ripe for personal problems. I must admit that many people are ripe for that.
SB: Yes I think for a lot of people it’s difficult to be intimate in general, and to be intimate with themselves.
JR: I don’t understand this. That’s the interesting thing: You cannot be intimate with yourself!
SB: You cannot?
JR: No.
SB: Cause it’s always about a relationship with someone else?
JR: No, intimate with yourself is a relation with yourself. Whatever tricks you use, whatever mutations and lies you make up about yourself, in principle they are all clear to you. Yourself is an open field to you. You cannot protect yourself from yourself. You can protect yourself from the others, but not from yourself. You are the victim and the perpetrator. You cannot harass yourself. You cannot rape yourself
SB: Hmm….Ok. I’m really trying to take in all this information. But it’s quite a lot. - Do you think intimacy is something we can create for ourselves in a relationship with others? Or is it something that just happens by chance when we don’t look for it? Can we create conditions for it?
JR: Yes, of course. It’s by eliminating the boundaries of protection. Every boundary you take away makes you less “timide”. So the less you act as a fortress, the less timid you are. But a fortress can have many forms. A fortress can act as if it’s very open. So the defense system can be “I’m so open, so open, so open! Let’s say everything. I am here. Ah you are so nice!” But you never allow a merging state. So intimacy is the moment where you merge, dissolve with the world around it. We are all very intimate with oxygen. We love it. We are intimate with a lot of food. So it’s where the filters, the membranes that filter whatever information comes to you, filter as little as possible.
SB: Mmmh - thanks. So when you see a performance – do you sometimes use the word intimacy or intimate to describe what you see in the theater? Or how do you relate that term to the theater. Cause I think it’s used a lot in my experience when there is an intimate setting, when there is very little audience, or when it’s a very closed space. what is for you an intimate performance?
JR: That for sure not. Because this reading of intimacy (going to a very private, protected situation) is not what I call intimacy. Intimacy has to go the other way around. You have to take away your borders and should not withdraw to a small corner. So I cannot imagine any performance that is intimate.
SB: According to your concept of intimacy it would be a performance where the performers cross a lot of boundaries and open up a lot of possibilities. So really liberating …that would be intimate?
JR: Yeah …(thinks) But it’s a very complicated thing. I know a performance- when I was professor at the Rijksacademie in Amsterdam – we invited every now and then performances. There was a group of visual artists/performers who asked us to sit around a big table. We were thirty people around the table. And they were on the table and under the table shitting and masturbating and pissing, putting it on themselves and mixing it, and using some masks and costumes and whatever but …. So that sounds as if this was borderless. It’s transgressive performance. People of course walked out of it because they had to vomit. But I don’t know – I wouldn’t use the word intimate. The action of being borderless is not intimate. It’s an aggressive action. So it’s like trust. It is a word that shouldn’t exist. It should be the normal state.
SB: Yes, but that is talking ideally. It is not reality.
JR: Intimacy is not something you make. It is an ontological state. It’s something you are.
SB: What is ontological?
JR: To be. It is like this. That’s ontological. It’s not a process. It’s a fact. It’s a state of being.
SB: Is intimacy something you are interested in seeing in the theater? Or in your own work?
JR: Not to see as a subject. But yes I’m interested in theater that does not protect itself so much. I’m not interested in all the masking that’s connected to theater.
SB: So you mean also theater that takes risks? If it doesn’t protect itself.it’s more risk-taking, no?
JR: I don’t know. What is theater that takes risks?
SB: For me it’s going into the unknown and not putting clear boundaries of how far this can go…
JR: I cannot make theater out of going to the unknown. Theater is a space that is occupied with certain actions during a certain time. Can this be more intimate or less? – I’m interested in soft. I am not interested in hard. I’m not interested in virtuosity. That is creating borders. I’m interested in soft.
SB: Subtle?
JR: Yes, for sure. Sensitive. But not in an esoteric way. Your brains can be very smart. And that I would call sensitive. Very smart and precise. I always talk about being specific. Try to be as clear as you can be. And that’s soft It’s all about being as little protected as possible. There is a state between the stage and the audience where it is easy to dissolve. Not to dissolve in being drawn by spectacularity. It’s necessary for me that people stay independent, that people stay independent but that they also want to dissolve.
SB: Do you think intimacy is possible on the web? Virtual intimacy? Or can it only happen in real time face to face?
JR: If intimacy is being as borderless as possible, then within the context of the border on the web that is communicating by screens, I would say no there is no intimacy. The screen is in between.
SB: Because I think there aren’t as many ways of negotiating or measuring intimacy on the web. I’m still stuck with this idea of trust. How far can you go? On the web you can say much more and then just delete it again.
JR: Maybe when I think about it now – even when you do skype-fucking you always stay alone. There is a certain way of dissolving a little bit, but it’s very task-oriented. No the web is certainly not made for intimacy.
SB: And still I think a lot of people are looking for intimacy on the web and spend much more time looking for it on the web than in real life.
JR: Yes of course, because it’s in the context of the protection of the screen, this huge membrane that filters everything. So you can never really be touched. Intimacy presupposes a sharing, I would say. When I was talking about dissolving, merging before – I mean on the web there is the idea of merging too. But it’s not happening. It’s very much an as if situation. That’s why we call it virtual.
SB: Do you think intimacy is disappearing? Do you think it is an endangered species?
JB: The more you live in a society of screens, you will communicate by screens. I always say why I like theater is because it’s the only place since the church is empty where we are all together alive. This live togetherness with strangers is something very specific to the performing arts.
We communicate so much by screens, whether it’s a computer, or a television or a telephone or whatever, they all have interfaces. And everyone who was born knows what it is to be taken in the arms of the mother, to have physical contact, to appropriate the world around you, whether it is oxygen or a piece of meat. You are all the time merging. You are appropriating the world and you are contaminating the world with your things. Our words, communication, are a way of infecting each other. I contaminate your mind with my words and you have to try and live with it – which is very difficult of course after what I’ve said. (chuckles)
SB: Have you had a chance to visit my blog? I would be interested to get some feedback from you. I want to go on with this research but also think about ways to put it in a performative frame. I wonder if it should be a lecture demonstration in Reims next week.
JR: What I see on the blog is a little bit this sweet and tender ..... social, nice atmosphere, esoteric thing. But basically the "demarche" about intimacy I like. It’s in all my work. My work is about this.
SB: About finding intimacy?
JR: About trying to be borderless. If you would do some more brain effort ..... ( ).... I think Derrida said a lot about this. You should watch this interview with Derrida. I show him because he is very intimate. This Eva Verdes is also very intimate. It’s naïve, but it’s one to one. And Derrida when he talks about his childhood and his fear about writing, it’s very intimate. I support this. But not in an esoteric way. I’m not interested in doing intimate in a fine, nice world.
SB: Why do you say esoteric?
JR: Because then it becomes a culture. Then it’s like in the screen as if we do intimate. You can create here a subculture of intimacy, of nice people who love each other very much and fuck around. A sixties commune that does “intimate”. And I don’t want to have a retreat behind the walls of PAF because then you go to the private situation of the idea of intimacy when you are in a bed with somebody. You have to look for ways of being intimate at the table. And you have a tendency to be – also the way you speak is quite soft. So intimacy is about being intimate in public, which doesn’t mean that you have to fuck on top of cars in the center of Paris. That is being transgressive. That’s also ok to be sometimes transgressive.
So for me a blog about this ? ( )…. – but a brain work please! I gave some notions in this talk - there is a lot to think about - I twist intimacy completely from private to public. The way Derrida talks in his interview has for me the dignity of intimacy. And I like to combine these two words. It’s nobility. And that is the ability to merge, to dissolve – and not to grasp. We are in a grasping, in a colonizing culture, in an appropriating culture. And not in a sharing exchange culture, which is a much richer culture.
Friday, September 7, 2007
intimate walk with Jenny
This was my first intimate walk in German. I don't think this played much of a role in the degree of intimacy experienced though. I mean of course the fact that we both speak German already puts us in a sort of intimate bubble where non-German speakers cannot enter.
But after my interview with Jan Ritsema I question the notion of intimacy needing a protected space to exist. According to Jan intimacy (which is the overcoming of shyness) should be possible in public space, should be possible anywhere, anytime. It shouldn't be dependent on the protection of four walls or a blanket to hide under. see "intimate interview with Jan Ritsema".
So speaking German with Jenny created a kind of complicity. But the intimacy experienced was more related to a genuine interest in the other person, an attraction and sympathy that made us click and provided fuel for conversation.
Jenny and I talked about the sleeping project. Jenny told me about her difficulties falling asleep. She tries many different tasks and exercises to fall asleep like counting sheep or tracing her room with her eyes in the dark. She is particular about hygiene when sleeping in a bed with someone she doesn't know so well. She slept with a girl once whose linen were grimy with sand and other dirt particles. This made her feel uncomfortable. I think I can relate to this need for hygiene. I usually worry a lot about my own hygiene when I sleep with someone. I worry about farting in the middle of the night or having bad breath when sleeping face to face with someone.
I learned a lot of new things about Jenny. She is a DJ and used to play the cello. She doesn't smoke but likes to smoke a joint every now and then. She can adapt quite easily and isn't very demanding in relationships. People often think she is too nice and "adapted". I'm not sure that is the right word. In German it is "angepasst", which means you adapt easily to each situation and become a bit of a social chameleon. That was my first impression too when I first met her last summer in Vienna. But I think very differently now. She has a lot of very odd and peculiar sides about her. And what I love about Jenny is that she laughs and giggles and talks a lot about herself, but also listens very well. Jenny and I walked in the forest and got a bit lost. We arrived in a small village and had to ask some local people for directions back to the monastery. We also saw a dead deer by the side of the road. We stole pears in an orchard and talked about our profession and about future plans. All of this together made our walk into a fulfilling experience - even if it stayed on a light and superficial level. I find Jenny a very stimulating partner to talk to and be with. There isn't the same kind of depth and fine-tuned emotional connection I share with Min however. But does that mean I feel less intimately connected to Jenny? Is intimacy really about depth? Or is it about feeling free to be who you are and say what you need? Isn't it sometimes more difficult to express yourself freely in a mature and deep relationship? As opposed to a relationship that is still full of potential, an uncharted territory yet to be discovered?
But after my interview with Jan Ritsema I question the notion of intimacy needing a protected space to exist. According to Jan intimacy (which is the overcoming of shyness) should be possible in public space, should be possible anywhere, anytime. It shouldn't be dependent on the protection of four walls or a blanket to hide under. see "intimate interview with Jan Ritsema".
So speaking German with Jenny created a kind of complicity. But the intimacy experienced was more related to a genuine interest in the other person, an attraction and sympathy that made us click and provided fuel for conversation.
Jenny and I talked about the sleeping project. Jenny told me about her difficulties falling asleep. She tries many different tasks and exercises to fall asleep like counting sheep or tracing her room with her eyes in the dark. She is particular about hygiene when sleeping in a bed with someone she doesn't know so well. She slept with a girl once whose linen were grimy with sand and other dirt particles. This made her feel uncomfortable. I think I can relate to this need for hygiene. I usually worry a lot about my own hygiene when I sleep with someone. I worry about farting in the middle of the night or having bad breath when sleeping face to face with someone.
I learned a lot of new things about Jenny. She is a DJ and used to play the cello. She doesn't smoke but likes to smoke a joint every now and then. She can adapt quite easily and isn't very demanding in relationships. People often think she is too nice and "adapted". I'm not sure that is the right word. In German it is "angepasst", which means you adapt easily to each situation and become a bit of a social chameleon. That was my first impression too when I first met her last summer in Vienna. But I think very differently now. She has a lot of very odd and peculiar sides about her. And what I love about Jenny is that she laughs and giggles and talks a lot about herself, but also listens very well. Jenny and I walked in the forest and got a bit lost. We arrived in a small village and had to ask some local people for directions back to the monastery. We also saw a dead deer by the side of the road. We stole pears in an orchard and talked about our profession and about future plans. All of this together made our walk into a fulfilling experience - even if it stayed on a light and superficial level. I find Jenny a very stimulating partner to talk to and be with. There isn't the same kind of depth and fine-tuned emotional connection I share with Min however. But does that mean I feel less intimately connected to Jenny? Is intimacy really about depth? Or is it about feeling free to be who you are and say what you need? Isn't it sometimes more difficult to express yourself freely in a mature and deep relationship? As opposed to a relationship that is still full of potential, an uncharted territory yet to be discovered?
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
sleeping with Gui
Gui has a very extensive ritual before going to bed (usually in the early morning hours):
first he applies an anti-balding product to his balding spots and rubs it in for several minutes, then he washes his feet and hands, treats his feet with a natural anti-perspiration product, brushes his teeth, and rolls himself a last cigarette which he smokes lying in bed listening to his favorite lullabies, checking out blogs and websites or writing and publishing late night poems on his own blog (www.anotherfuck.blogspot.com).
I felt honored to witness Gui's bedtime ritual and to spend these intimate hours with him in the early morning. Gui is great at putting people at ease. He is a natural at making conversation. I admire him because of the physical affection he shares with everyone around him. He spreads warmth and benevolence wherever he goes.
I was once again more in a listening mood. Not because I was feeling awkward or shy, but due to a profound sense of tiredness. Gui is in a long-distance relationship and wants to really make this one good and working. He asked himself serious questions about loyalty and commitment and finding himself.
He played me a song Pieter has given him: I see this darkness by Bonnie "Prince" Billy. It's a very sad and beautiful song. I thought about the friendship of Pieter and Gui, their artistic and maybe intellectual intimacy.
Gui sat at his desk and rolled yet another cigarette sharing his thoughts freely. There was something romantic about the atmosphere in this existential shithole of a room. I lay in bed and for a moment felt like the lover or muse of some poet. I just lay there listening and receiving. Is that my natural state? Being this recipient of life's vicissitudes - my own or somebody else's? I wonder if my presence had a calming effect on Gui. I know he has been feeling confused and slightly depressed lately. I would have liked to find the right words to reflect his many questions and meandering thoughts, to give him some simple advice, something to put his restless mind at ease. But maybe listening was enough, maybe just being there with this heavy body and tired mind of mine served a purpose already. Somebody once told me I listen like a lake. I like this image a lot. It is something I aspire to be.
Gui joined me in bed and read his latest poem to me. It was about words, about all the things words can do. I think you can find it on his blog. I must have fallen asleep while he was still reading or writing on his laptop next to me. I slept like a placid lake and woke up with my batteries recharged the next morning at eight to do my yoga and start my day with a good laugh.
first he applies an anti-balding product to his balding spots and rubs it in for several minutes, then he washes his feet and hands, treats his feet with a natural anti-perspiration product, brushes his teeth, and rolls himself a last cigarette which he smokes lying in bed listening to his favorite lullabies, checking out blogs and websites or writing and publishing late night poems on his own blog (www.anotherfuck.blogspot.com).
I felt honored to witness Gui's bedtime ritual and to spend these intimate hours with him in the early morning. Gui is great at putting people at ease. He is a natural at making conversation. I admire him because of the physical affection he shares with everyone around him. He spreads warmth and benevolence wherever he goes.
I was once again more in a listening mood. Not because I was feeling awkward or shy, but due to a profound sense of tiredness. Gui is in a long-distance relationship and wants to really make this one good and working. He asked himself serious questions about loyalty and commitment and finding himself.
He played me a song Pieter has given him: I see this darkness by Bonnie "Prince" Billy. It's a very sad and beautiful song. I thought about the friendship of Pieter and Gui, their artistic and maybe intellectual intimacy.
Gui sat at his desk and rolled yet another cigarette sharing his thoughts freely. There was something romantic about the atmosphere in this existential shithole of a room. I lay in bed and for a moment felt like the lover or muse of some poet. I just lay there listening and receiving. Is that my natural state? Being this recipient of life's vicissitudes - my own or somebody else's? I wonder if my presence had a calming effect on Gui. I know he has been feeling confused and slightly depressed lately. I would have liked to find the right words to reflect his many questions and meandering thoughts, to give him some simple advice, something to put his restless mind at ease. But maybe listening was enough, maybe just being there with this heavy body and tired mind of mine served a purpose already. Somebody once told me I listen like a lake. I like this image a lot. It is something I aspire to be.
Gui joined me in bed and read his latest poem to me. It was about words, about all the things words can do. I think you can find it on his blog. I must have fallen asleep while he was still reading or writing on his laptop next to me. I slept like a placid lake and woke up with my batteries recharged the next morning at eight to do my yoga and start my day with a good laugh.
Monday, September 3, 2007
intimate email from Antonio
I was moved by your question... and all these questions and issues came to my mind:
is there such a thing as virtual intimacy? is there room in "virtuality" to let go our fears, our passions, cry, love and be fully one self? is intimacy a word compatible with screen and keyboard? do images and texts disposed on the virtual space reveal intimacy? in which way and to what extent?
i'm very doubtfull about this...utopically, i believe intimacy is a space of freedom between people. a space where you can let go all your shit, use sincerity against shame and be able to love someone fully with no feet on the ground. real beautiful intimacy doesn't need protections of the heart, fake smiles, lies and constraints. If that is ever possible to happen don't we need to be face to face, body to body? don't we need to share one's breath and one's stare? don't we need to hear each other's voice and each other's silence? then again, do we need to know each other's full history to be truly intimate?
Ultimately, intimacy and personality is a definitely a place of challenge, of beauty, of risk...don't know, but for sure, worth the try to feel the joy, the frustraition, the sadness and the happiness that goes around the love of sharing?
i'm really keen on this matter as i'm very interestedin people in socio-psychological-behaviour way.
INTIMATE___________PERSONAL___________________PUBLIC
How big is the distance from what you are in you intimacy from what you show of yourself publicly?
What diferentiates intimate from personal?
How much do I really know you and how much do you really know me?
What can 2, 3 or more people can do to get fully intimate with each other?
Is sex, kissing, hugging, touching, sleeping together acts of intimacy? ... ARE THEY REALLY?
How do you choose who you want to get intimate with? Really what are the criteria?
Are there types of intimate relationships? How are they different in intention, in energy and in degree?
Deep inside each one there are answers to those questions, and definitely more questions from these questions. It will never be clear, it will never be full...
There are moments in my life where i forget all these barriers, all the difference between things, all the taboos and all my ghosts. Everything comes out like a spasm, a vomit, a cry. I can be intimate in explosion with an audience, and disappear in silence with no ground below. when i feel there's room to share intimacy i can feel lighter, happier, freer, even younger. Intimacy with one another or with a lot of people is a precious gift and a much desired treasure...I am obsessed with Beckett. When i read his plays and novels, i keep asking myself -why do people insist in living close to one another? they are all so lonely, they exist so much in soliloque and they monologue ther brains off. In urban spaces(jungles) it's probably not so different, there is a lot of distance between people, a wide gap from heart to heart, desires have difficulty to meet, paranoia meets neurosis and bridges of lonely despair are built they after day. And we cry, and we weep. and we find ourselves empty and unsatiable, always needing more more more....more of what? more of substitituions and ideas to hold on to to calm down our urgent lack of closeness, of dialogue, of little affection, of pairs, of identification...call intimacy call it attention call it breath call it LOVE!
I'm always happy to notice that our work can enrich our spirit, bring up these questions and deal with them in the face or who knows, even overcome them!
all this and i got happier again. relieved. wanting to go back to my project of artistic education, even if it will not go in ontime and they don't take me because of virtual matters.
don't know what to say. it came out like this. don't know if i shall be sorry or happy. i guess your question made me go FIRE :) maybe PAF can be a place to work out these issues if you are interested...now i remember, it's been something you must have been working on, right? ANyway you brought it up, i reacted...( these lines...)
let me know what is under this.
see you soon mr swiss
kiss,
antonio pedro lopes
ps: when i'm able to be intimate with someone is when i ultimately forget of fuckin everything and go through the marvelous exercise of learning again. it can be magic or shocking, i guess you never know what you're gonna get until it happens! what i feel i do, for better or worst is i place myself too much in PARADOX. In the middle of it...opening up the possibility of still being everything. I guess that can also be interpreted as expereince of growth, search of the self and belief in our humanity...
is there such a thing as virtual intimacy? is there room in "virtuality" to let go our fears, our passions, cry, love and be fully one self? is intimacy a word compatible with screen and keyboard? do images and texts disposed on the virtual space reveal intimacy? in which way and to what extent?
i'm very doubtfull about this...utopically, i believe intimacy is a space of freedom between people. a space where you can let go all your shit, use sincerity against shame and be able to love someone fully with no feet on the ground. real beautiful intimacy doesn't need protections of the heart, fake smiles, lies and constraints. If that is ever possible to happen don't we need to be face to face, body to body? don't we need to share one's breath and one's stare? don't we need to hear each other's voice and each other's silence? then again, do we need to know each other's full history to be truly intimate?
Ultimately, intimacy and personality is a definitely a place of challenge, of beauty, of risk...don't know, but for sure, worth the try to feel the joy, the frustraition, the sadness and the happiness that goes around the love of sharing?
i'm really keen on this matter as i'm very interestedin people in socio-psychological-behaviour way.
INTIMATE___________PERSONAL___________________PUBLIC
How big is the distance from what you are in you intimacy from what you show of yourself publicly?
What diferentiates intimate from personal?
How much do I really know you and how much do you really know me?
What can 2, 3 or more people can do to get fully intimate with each other?
Is sex, kissing, hugging, touching, sleeping together acts of intimacy? ... ARE THEY REALLY?
How do you choose who you want to get intimate with? Really what are the criteria?
Are there types of intimate relationships? How are they different in intention, in energy and in degree?
Deep inside each one there are answers to those questions, and definitely more questions from these questions. It will never be clear, it will never be full...
There are moments in my life where i forget all these barriers, all the difference between things, all the taboos and all my ghosts. Everything comes out like a spasm, a vomit, a cry. I can be intimate in explosion with an audience, and disappear in silence with no ground below. when i feel there's room to share intimacy i can feel lighter, happier, freer, even younger. Intimacy with one another or with a lot of people is a precious gift and a much desired treasure...I am obsessed with Beckett. When i read his plays and novels, i keep asking myself -why do people insist in living close to one another? they are all so lonely, they exist so much in soliloque and they monologue ther brains off. In urban spaces(jungles) it's probably not so different, there is a lot of distance between people, a wide gap from heart to heart, desires have difficulty to meet, paranoia meets neurosis and bridges of lonely despair are built they after day. And we cry, and we weep. and we find ourselves empty and unsatiable, always needing more more more....more of what? more of substitituions and ideas to hold on to to calm down our urgent lack of closeness, of dialogue, of little affection, of pairs, of identification...call intimacy call it attention call it breath call it LOVE!
I'm always happy to notice that our work can enrich our spirit, bring up these questions and deal with them in the face or who knows, even overcome them!
all this and i got happier again. relieved. wanting to go back to my project of artistic education, even if it will not go in ontime and they don't take me because of virtual matters.
don't know what to say. it came out like this. don't know if i shall be sorry or happy. i guess your question made me go FIRE :) maybe PAF can be a place to work out these issues if you are interested...now i remember, it's been something you must have been working on, right? ANyway you brought it up, i reacted...( these lines...)
let me know what is under this.
see you soon mr swiss
kiss,
antonio pedro lopes
ps: when i'm able to be intimate with someone is when i ultimately forget of fuckin everything and go through the marvelous exercise of learning again. it can be magic or shocking, i guess you never know what you're gonna get until it happens! what i feel i do, for better or worst is i place myself too much in PARADOX. In the middle of it...opening up the possibility of still being everything. I guess that can also be interpreted as expereince of growth, search of the self and belief in our humanity...
Sunday, September 2, 2007
sleeping with Perrine
The first night I was supposed to sleep with Perrine was the night of Jean-Marc's birthday party.
Everyone was drunk on champagne and at some point of the evening Perrine asked me to postpone our night because she wanted to sleep with someone she was really in love with.
For that night she chose real desire over experiment. How could I have possibly objected to such a strong and vital choice? Marko taught me a lesson I hope I won't forget for the rest of my life: It is crucial to ask for what we need and desire. As long as we know what we want.
That night of the party I suddenly felt strangely disconnected from the group. At the beginning I felt euphoric and in party mood (we had seen two amazing performances by Tiago and Tommy). I'm not sure what it was that made me suddenly withdraw to my own little world of worries and doubts. I guess I realized that the wild dancing and oversexed, exhibitionist party behavior wasn't what I was looking for. It wasn't exactly my idea of intimacy, although I am sure some people may have felt intimately connected in the midst of all this crazy hullabaloo. So I was actually relieved to withdraw to Perrine's room and spend a restful night with my intimate self in Perrine's single bed.
The following night Perrine did join me in her small bed after all. Now this was really about negotiating intimate space. We were literally on top of each other. I thought about proposing my favorite ritual of falling asleep: the one of mutually telling each other our detailed experiences of the day from wake-up to bedtime. I have found this very helpful in the past to facilitate the act of falling asleep. It is a great exercise for the memory and makes you feel you are on the same page with the other person. But Perrine was terribly tired and said good-night a few moments after I had crawled under the blanket with her. This premature good-night made me slightly anxious. I really need some kind of ritual of talking in order to have an understanding of what sort of energy and thought processes are inhabiting this bed with me.
Eventually Perrine did tell me a bit about her day and her love story. But the conversation faded out soon enough for me to realize that I was actually also quite exhausted and ready to go sleepy sleep.
Although I hardly knew Perrine I was surprised that feeling her warmth and body so close was perfectly all right. It felt like a brother and sister kind of intimacy. We could have been twins.
I didn't sleep immediately though. I was conscious of a choreography of shifting and readjusting which seemed to last the whole night. I was quite aware of her presence and didn't want to disturb her sleep, so I considered each shift with the strategy and care of a chess player. I must have gotten some sleep though. In the morning my alarm woke me out of a dream in which I was desperately trying to find an airport and asking people for directions.
It was 7:30 and I had to get up and drive Marko to the train station in Laon. He had to travel back to Croatia for a project. In Marianne's car we drove through a deserted, early Sunday morning countryside of fields and forests. We didn't speak much. We listened to classical music. I felt proud of driving Marko to Laon. I was profoundly happy and sad at the same time. It was like in a film. There was no need to talk. Someone once said that real intimacy is about feeling completely at ease in the presence of someone without having to speak.
Everyone was drunk on champagne and at some point of the evening Perrine asked me to postpone our night because she wanted to sleep with someone she was really in love with.
For that night she chose real desire over experiment. How could I have possibly objected to such a strong and vital choice? Marko taught me a lesson I hope I won't forget for the rest of my life: It is crucial to ask for what we need and desire. As long as we know what we want.
That night of the party I suddenly felt strangely disconnected from the group. At the beginning I felt euphoric and in party mood (we had seen two amazing performances by Tiago and Tommy). I'm not sure what it was that made me suddenly withdraw to my own little world of worries and doubts. I guess I realized that the wild dancing and oversexed, exhibitionist party behavior wasn't what I was looking for. It wasn't exactly my idea of intimacy, although I am sure some people may have felt intimately connected in the midst of all this crazy hullabaloo. So I was actually relieved to withdraw to Perrine's room and spend a restful night with my intimate self in Perrine's single bed.
The following night Perrine did join me in her small bed after all. Now this was really about negotiating intimate space. We were literally on top of each other. I thought about proposing my favorite ritual of falling asleep: the one of mutually telling each other our detailed experiences of the day from wake-up to bedtime. I have found this very helpful in the past to facilitate the act of falling asleep. It is a great exercise for the memory and makes you feel you are on the same page with the other person. But Perrine was terribly tired and said good-night a few moments after I had crawled under the blanket with her. This premature good-night made me slightly anxious. I really need some kind of ritual of talking in order to have an understanding of what sort of energy and thought processes are inhabiting this bed with me.
Eventually Perrine did tell me a bit about her day and her love story. But the conversation faded out soon enough for me to realize that I was actually also quite exhausted and ready to go sleepy sleep.
Although I hardly knew Perrine I was surprised that feeling her warmth and body so close was perfectly all right. It felt like a brother and sister kind of intimacy. We could have been twins.
I didn't sleep immediately though. I was conscious of a choreography of shifting and readjusting which seemed to last the whole night. I was quite aware of her presence and didn't want to disturb her sleep, so I considered each shift with the strategy and care of a chess player. I must have gotten some sleep though. In the morning my alarm woke me out of a dream in which I was desperately trying to find an airport and asking people for directions.
It was 7:30 and I had to get up and drive Marko to the train station in Laon. He had to travel back to Croatia for a project. In Marianne's car we drove through a deserted, early Sunday morning countryside of fields and forests. We didn't speak much. We listened to classical music. I felt proud of driving Marko to Laon. I was profoundly happy and sad at the same time. It was like in a film. There was no need to talk. Someone once said that real intimacy is about feeling completely at ease in the presence of someone without having to speak.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
intimate walk with Sayaka
My intimate walk with Sayaka started with a shoulder massage. She had pain in her left shoulder and I proposed to give her a Feldenkrais-inspired treatment my friend Julius had once performed on me. I remember it was an immensely relaxing sensation which created a lot of space in my shoulder joint. Performing this massage on Sayaka made me feel at home and safe. We got to talking about family somehow. Sayaka reported that in her family there wasn't much touchy-feely kind of intimacy. But there certainly was a strong sense of trust and belonging. Sayaka is the only person allowed to give a shoulder massage to her mother.
Sayaka already slept in my room in Amsterdam (not in the same bed) and she baked a wonderful apple pie for me and my roommates.
After the shoulder massage I felt so comfortably at ease that it was very hard to get up and go for a walk. We decided to just go for a short stroll through the orchard up to a little look-0ut spot protected by trees with a nice view over the orchard and garden. We sat in two plastic chairs and talked about spirituality. Talking about something so abstract and intangible still had an intimate bonding effect on us. I realized that I hadn't talked about God and the world with someone in a very long time. "Talking about God and the world" is a German expression and means that you're having a profound conversation with somebody about existential issues.
I remember when I was younger I always wanted to talk about God and the world with everyone. These are very big but also basic questions! Lately I have neglected these issues and instead become obsessed with the intimate and the personal. With Sayaka we went easy on the existential issues. We touched them slightly - and more in a vague, floating kind of way. I became aware that I'm actually quite lost spiritually. I don't really know what I believe in anymore. Sayaka 's belief that her ancestors are watching over her is a beautiful image. This respect for the elderly is rooted in her culture. It made me think of my grandmother and that I find it more and more difficult to connect with her as I get more and more entangled in my self-obsessed artistic quests and ambitions. I confessed to Sayaka that I felt guilty for not having spent more than a few miserly hours with my grandmother during the six weeks I spent at home in my village this summer. "Why don't you write a letter to her and explain your situation?" I truly believe that Sayaka's simple advice could make a big difference.
Sayaka already slept in my room in Amsterdam (not in the same bed) and she baked a wonderful apple pie for me and my roommates.
After the shoulder massage I felt so comfortably at ease that it was very hard to get up and go for a walk. We decided to just go for a short stroll through the orchard up to a little look-0ut spot protected by trees with a nice view over the orchard and garden. We sat in two plastic chairs and talked about spirituality. Talking about something so abstract and intangible still had an intimate bonding effect on us. I realized that I hadn't talked about God and the world with someone in a very long time. "Talking about God and the world" is a German expression and means that you're having a profound conversation with somebody about existential issues.
I remember when I was younger I always wanted to talk about God and the world with everyone. These are very big but also basic questions! Lately I have neglected these issues and instead become obsessed with the intimate and the personal. With Sayaka we went easy on the existential issues. We touched them slightly - and more in a vague, floating kind of way. I became aware that I'm actually quite lost spiritually. I don't really know what I believe in anymore. Sayaka 's belief that her ancestors are watching over her is a beautiful image. This respect for the elderly is rooted in her culture. It made me think of my grandmother and that I find it more and more difficult to connect with her as I get more and more entangled in my self-obsessed artistic quests and ambitions. I confessed to Sayaka that I felt guilty for not having spent more than a few miserly hours with my grandmother during the six weeks I spent at home in my village this summer. "Why don't you write a letter to her and explain your situation?" I truly believe that Sayaka's simple advice could make a big difference.
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