This text was originally read as a performative score.
Once Upon a Time … once, not over and over, once. If you were not there you missed it. It happened once. On a time, not any time - this time - now…. Now …. Now… Not there, or there, but here. We cannot go back. We cannot un-know. This is a special occasion. A coming together. A celebration perhaps. An act of worship. It is Sunday after all. A beginning and an ending. Or just a hiatus? We pause, in a void space between departure and destination. We look for the cracks in the pavement, the gaps in the walls where we can lodge thoughts and messages. Like notes left by the ‘GeoCacher’ we seek to leave a trace of ourselves amongst the ghost voices of others. We know that someone else is there but we just can’t see them. I don’t really know what I am doing. I’ve thrown together thoughts and actions and expression in the hope that something, one thing, makes sense to you and to me in all of this. I don’t know how much or how little to say. I sit in a circle with people I have not even been introduced to, and am expected to talk about intimacy. Our aural and oral are the only processing mechanisms allowed. It is about ‘being here’; the temporal space is not suggested to stretch beyond the here and now. 46