Snapshots from a Thursday:
An absorbing discussion about attending, attuning, describing, accounting for, wording, where fresh water meets salty, encountering a lemon, what’s it like to be in the middle of acting on stage, Old White Men and Thai berry pickers in Lapland. With refreshments!
I keep thinking about that lemon and its worlding in sound, image, and language. I describe in language and image but it speaks in sound.
The specificity of the particular, in context; the small stories found through keenly sensing atmospheric openings rather than seeking/constructing a grand narrative. Then, beyond the human-centred social worlds to thinking about worldings as eddies, microclimates, sites of intensity. Attuning to underwater worldings?
In the bush, outside, I have an experience of attunement that is visceral, affective, sensory, focussed and dispersed all at the same time.
In the social I have no capacity of attunement. Ideas (mine, theirs, others) are objects-already-multiples that jumble stumble and call with an imperative that is transparent and obvious I suspect only to me.
Since last night, I’ve been thinking about how often one of the ways I practice attunement is to try to notice the colour palette of a place. It’s a visual atmospheric, I guess, but one that I then find very difficult to describe.
The gap between noticing/attuning and accounting seems to be the recurring frustration (or maybe just motivation for?) my practice.
For me the cacophony of shimmering thingness and eddying atmospheres and associated ideas and people (because post-human doesn’t replace an interest in people – it’s in addition to) can be overwhelming – that’s why I mentioned the analogy with empathy – to be useful I need to be able to channel / sort through the noise and try to focus on one thing. It’s not some peaceful, slow thing for me – it’s intense and shouty in my head and all interconnected like a rhizome network. But I can’t do/think it all at once.