movements

Goodness.  The last few months have really made the word ‘occupation’ feel very full for me.  Occupied.  In addition to the muchness I’ve had happening in Melbourne, I’ve also been spending an uncharateristic amount of time in airports getting liminal and trying to sneak really heavy bags in as hand luggage.

I have always moved with sex.  When I go through my history of travels and transversings along the earth, I find I have very often moved around the place by the vehicle of my existence in the field of sexuality.  In this way my connection with sex has created a lot of space in my life, has allowed me to repeatedly bust my geographies with a dildo-handled mallet and touch my feet to new grounds.  Travel and sex are both pretty trippy.  Journeymaking, life-altering, self-constructing, horizon-bending.  They are ways in which we feel into new territory and shine light on elements of ourselves and our surroundings.  Other bodies, other lands, other modalities of being.  I am grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to combine these two things.  They’re an intense but revelatory match.  Sometimes I am jumping off of corporeal cliffs when I’m far away from home.  This can be completely disorienting / rupturing.  But sometimes that’s necessary.

While the roaming I’ve done recently has often been saturated with labour and frenzy and general exhaust, I’ve tried to hang on to some of the rituals that I associate with travel and becoming acquainted with place.  The networks and webs I’ve grown into continue to provide me with little perks that still allow me to explore within the constraints of extremely long days, that call me to slowness when I’m feeling the absence of the deceleration mechanisms I employ at home.  I’m currently tearing up Sydney’s hills on a friend’s single-speed, looking for the green blocks on the map and gravitating towards them, making sure I walk around with headphones on, cooking my own food.  I try to cultivate some sense of my daily normativities and domesticities in these places, to carry my homeness around with me.  Like a turtle.  Self-contained.

For someone who is personally shifting intensely into a desire for roots, for foundational work, to ground deeply, this movement does shake me a little, and I attempt to respond by just allowing that and being grateful that I have access to this motion and the meditative qualities that can offer.  Being out of your element can make you quite focussed, and I think I require that mental training at this moment when the breadth of my labour has become a little more broad than can be comfortably reached.