Thursday, 5 November 2015

Fragmented



I went to a dance theatre production about ageing and the passing of time at the Tron Theatre, Glasgow, last week; Once Upon A Time, two dancers and one trapeze artist all over 65. Stunning, sad, beautifully simple yet full of complexity in its meaning. Apart from feeling decidedly unfit, I went home reflecting on our shared experience of fading memories of who we once were, as strong, young people. We all held centre stage in our own performance. Not much seems to be said about how this sense of diminishing feels, as articulated by those of us who are ageing, into our 60s, 70s and beyond. It's a difficult subject, granted, we're encouraged to stay young, look young but do we feel young? There is a beauty in ageing which needs a particular kind of looking; I saw it last week.
The above image is the residue of who I once was, as a young woman; what's left of my departing self.


Sunday, 4 October 2015

New website creation

Long silence, far too long. I even stopped writing in my research journals for a while, all too aware of the thousands of words I've accumulated and not wanting to add even more. Looking back over words written in the throes of intense emotion, is daunting and exhausting. Particularly when I know that I should be trawling through them on the lookout for research insight gems. Sometimes, that just feels too premeditated and contrived. So.... I just stopped writing. I didn't stop thinking.

Much has happened since the last post so I've decided that I need a new website; one that reflects who I am becoming rather than just showing who I used to be. I'll post here when it's up and running. There's a holding image for the new site; www.alisonbell.co.uk

Deciding on this new content has given pause for thought about how we quietly shift from one perspective to another without realising it. Thoughts evolve in the background and I think that it's only when confronted by an unexpected response on our part, to a hitherto 'normal' event, that we see this shift in ourselves. In a way, this forms the crux of my research. I stand on a watershed, or in a liminal space, depending on how you think about this. I'm not who I thought I was, in fact, I'm almost a stranger in my own skin, rather like a snake casts its skin and moves on. Does the snake stay intrinsically the same or has it shifted? The artwork I've created as part of the research, has clearly shown me this movement within myself. I'm shocked, I thought I knew myself pretty well. My self preconceptions are wrong or at best, misguided. I've even had 2 specific dreams where my unconscious has tried to help me to understand this inner metamorphosis. We don't listen closely enough.


                                              research artwork for 'departing selves', 2015