biased
I walked to rehab. I'm going to miss that route, it goes through an area i've last been to two decades ago, and that industrial area has been rebuild as a place for artists of all ages and talents to practice/create. There is that certain feeling of openness that stands in juxtaposition to the rigidness on which it was build.
The Rest and Recovery course was a bummer—again. As soon as i hit the spot where my body was ready to relax and i was able to observe my mind as a neutral spectator, the weight of my body and the pain became an overwhelming sensation, which i had to escape from. I was told i sat on my chair, legs folded, like a seasoned practitioner, and at no point before i suddenly got up and asked for a time-out.
It didn't help, that Group Therapy was … for a while it felt like an abandoned ship, without aim. One group member suddenly had an input that got us talking.
Started watching the documentary about the making of Marina Abramovich's The Artist is present installation; while i appreciate the work, it felt more like … the portrait of a cult leader. That is not a fitting assessment, i guess i'm frustrated that it didn't help me to lessen my bias towards performance art. I'll try and keep on exposing myself to it until it clicks.