Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones

Dec30

2011

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Painting:  Pam White, from the Spirit Horse series.  This painting is FOR SALE.  Contact me here for details.

 

I have been contemplating the approaching new year.  2012 seems an oddly impossible number – something from a future that I have not achieved.

So I am going to look back at 2011 in an effort to bring myself up to speed with this new number.  Two things stand out in particular.  They are about practice and rooting.  I am using that word because of its developmental associations.  It is what an infant does when seeking the mother’s nipple.  Seeking nourishment, the font, the center.  That feels to me like what this year has mostly been about.  Bringing work into new focus.  Nourishing myself with the work.

This was the year that I started my blog.  It began as a piece of the puzzle of my book, Horse Dancing and quickly took on a life of its own.  The book is still seeking its publisher as the blog steadily threads its way through the digital palimpsest that it is the internet.   The blog has become a taproot of my creative practice.  It is where I start the day, and often where I end.  It is teaching more more about showing up, steadfastness and finding focus than almost anything else I have done.  I have been greatly helped and encouraged in my efforts by Jon Katz, Pam White,  Gwen Bell, and Ev Bogue.

This was also the year that I deepened my work with horses to include the Mustang Nelson.  Nelson was rescued from slaughter from one of the BLM’s ugly culls of wild horses that are decimating the herds of the West.  Working with a horse with no intention of riding or making him ready for any human use is something relatively new for me. It is completely about figuring out the steps to his dance for the purpose of making his life out of the wild more manageable for him and safe for his caregivers.  Nelson is my kindest and most patient teacher.

I began to develop  classes and writing for those who are interested in going deeper into improvisational practice.   Opening to new teaching opportunities in this way gives me a new kind of juiciness and flexibility.  Watch for links to other offerings that I find rare and exciting, like Jenna Woginrich’s webinars.

OK.  Now I feel ready to dive into 2012.  Tomorrow.

What has been the root of your year?

 

 

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Dec29

out of office

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If you have been wondering why I am not showing p in your inbox, it is because of a bad flu.  A complete flat tire.  Catching up on past series of Inspector Lewis.  Hopefully back online tomorrow.  In the meantime, there is this from Abraham:

You just cannot kill everybody who doesn’t agree with you. You can’t do it. You’ll kill enough of them, and pretty soon, you’ll be down to the nitty gritty that is just you guys, and then you’ll start disagreeing with each other… In other words, you cannot get to where you want to be by pushing against what you do not want—it never, ever works.

— Abraham

Excerpted from the workshop in Washington, DC on Saturday, May 7th, 2005 # 302

Dec27

art – life

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I was drawn to this image because its intimacy, the quiet focus of the artist who is also the art.  One of the themes that I will be exploring in January is the way that art and life intersect.  It will also be a big part of the focus of Breaking into Blossom, the online course on moving into an improvisational life that begins on January 23.

Many years ago, I took a workshop with the brilliant Eiko & Koma.  I remember Eiko saying that she and Koma do not commute between their art and life.  For them it is a seamless whole.

I am a householder.  I have animals, a lot of them.  They are a beautiful, essential part of every day. But their presence means that there are a million little moments in every day that are not art.  Scooping poops, feeding dogs, cats, cleaning up vomit and pee.  Brushing, walking, touching.  As I said, not art.  Or what can feel like a lot of little, niggly commutes.

Having said that, there is a way to be with those necessities that is a rhythm, a practice, a yoga even. And there is a direct path from all of that ritual to my work, my writing, and definitely my choreography, which is full of beasts – hooved, pawed, winged.

Are you commuting?

postscript:  This week, The Journal (the little ragged memoir) is about the ways that I have taken art art into and onto my body.  The how and the why of that, including the elaborate mapping of tattoos.

 

Dec24

merry christmas

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Appreciate something.

Light a candle.

Find stillness.

Take a walk.

Take a nap. 

Breathe.


And with appreciation and thanks to Jon Katz, I had to share his Bedlam Farm video of Nicolene, the magical barn fairy.