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TBA:25 Dailies / Day #1
by Ryan-Ashley (Anderson) Maloney//| TBA:25Time-Based Art Festival by Portland Institute of Contemporary Art
Thursday, September 4th
Omni Rail by Angelo Scott at PNCA
[reflections provided by Ryan-Ashley Anderson Maloney]
Thinking: The Way White Noise Opens
Standing in a semi-circle on the ground level
looking up to the next and the third stories
people hang over railings
wires connect
I say hi as a friend passes by, but they disregard
I feel like a ghost
what did I do?
old feelings, a heavy rock in the gut,
then another person passes and another
and I realize I’m right on the edge
bodies undulate, rippling us in the periphery,
lulling like a wave pulling on the shore
a fine [is it?] line
people above knock and bang and clang at the railing
the metal an amplifier, white noise droning alongside
I feel loud noises in my body, each bang a shock,
but the presence of the droning noise made all the sounds
a part of a whole—more of a blanket than a bed of nails
a dancer stands on their head
a foot next to my face
we ripple
everything slow at first, but
momentum builds.
I anticipate a climax,
but the climax doesn’t come
intention
\ /
\ /
rigidity \ / softness
/\
/ \
/ \
intuition
undulating, oceanic, school of fish
one body, three floors, moving together
perfectly
call-and-response between the floors
full-bellied vocals
like the way you might lose yourself in the drone
of a singing bowl,
something opens
I lose myself
I wish someone said I’d be so lonely
Oh wait, my mother did.
That time I came home from school crying
over being misunderstood again.
Ill-fitting as a stranger.
Am I speaking some other language? [yes]
Bad brain, she said.
It reverberated.
Poison brain, he explained,
was the reason for leaving.
A slow death. A very long goodbye.
Banging
scratching
bodies moving faster now
Building toward an end.
Pushing.
pulling.
Sea foam.
everything is everything,
everything is nothing.
shifting in my shoes.
that damn toe.
then just as I think it’s gone on too long,
it all culminates into one final burst.
then nothing, and release.
I feel my pulse pull free,
the collective thrum now just
one.