First Notes from a New City

Permanent Movement | Primary Reactions

I am in transit. My belongings are in transit. My home is in transit.

My words, too, have been in transit, and these are the ones that have arrived first.

---

The Current (1997, Brazil), performed by Marina Abramović, as seen at the Royal Academy of Arts, London © 2023 Suyin Tan

Permanent Movement | Primary Reactions¹

I am noticing how much closer I am to the sky, and how much bigger the setting sun and the rising moon look to me.

Under the light of a new sun and a new moon, I found myself sitting in a garden of words I started writing earlier this year, and discovered new words for responding to them.

Today

/ Words started – London, February 2023 /

/ Words arrived – Porto, November 2023 /

Flowers

beaming, with

the grace of age

Cold wind

on my face

meets life

in the ice

of my breath

Bird song

are we

ever

truly alone?

Water

in a cup

growing cold

Sometimes

the cold is a better blanket

than the warmth

could ever be

Blue Mountains, Cold Heat

/ Words started – Ourika Valley, October 2023 /

/ Words arrived – Porto, November 2023 /

The furthest away mountains always look the dreamiest.

The further away, the dreamier — those are the mountains wrapped in the silky cool blue haze of excitement and possibility, where a mountain meets with and becomes the sky, as both mingle into one flowing embrace.

Breathing in, deeply, moves you back to the closest by mountains — these ancient troughs and wrinkles of dusty red.

And you notice the tear stains from sometime glacial rivers that once flowed down each weathered face.

Crystallised in the deep, dry haze of a Moroccan October afternoon, the closest by of these mountains immerse you in sensations of heat —

There are different types of heat — humid, dry, prickly, scorched, parched, and cold.

Cold heat.

— and so, you make your acquaintance with heat.

Like an oven warming up for a pie, or perhaps a hot sauna before the frozen ice pool plunge.

But, cold heat.

Cold heat —

is when the blood flowing through your veins reaches a heart that has forgotten how it’s like to be warm, and helps it remember.

Cold heat —

is when you sweat stone cold in the knowing that life can never be the same again, and you’ve crossed the threshold, closed the door and someone has forever taken the key away from you.

Cold heat —

is heat that cannot melt an ice cube because it’s a heat that is fuelled by ice.

Cold heat —

is when you step through the waterfall curtain into the blue fire of death,

through to the purple flames of rebirth,

carrying with you always the ashes of memories past

in the lotus of your blooming palms

Things I Think About

/ Words started – Ourika Valley, October 2023 /

/ Words arrived – Porto, November 2023 /

Mountains —

and following them home

Secrets —

and who I am

Stars —

and sleeping under them

Wings —

and whether they always come in pairs

Moonrise —

and finding answers to questions I didn’t know I had,

like,

〰️

Is it the same moon, but not the same person

or is it the same person, but not the same moon

〰️

Does the moon hold our memories

or do our memories get created by the moon

〰️

Where do memories of first encounters go

when there are no reunions?

〰️

Is one wing enough to go on and take flight?

〰️

Oh, but darling —

even without wings,

you are flying

---

With love from this new city, until the next words arrive

---

---

1. The phrases “Permanent Movement” and “Primary Reactions” are from Art Vital by the performance artists Marina Abramović & Ulay, as written about here previously in Postcards in October