A 40-hour participatory performance staged over 10 days, 4 hours a day, from
July 17-26, 2013. The work was part of the series Performative Fictions and the Idee Fixe: experiments in durational
performance, curated by Amanda Manitach at the Hedreen Gallery, Seattle.
Inside the gallery are staged 10 white cushions with an open invitation for the
public to silently sit. From 2pm-6pm each day, artist D.K. Pan will sit in
silence. Joining him will be someone hired from an ad on Craig’s List, cast as
the Designated Sitter. Each day will feature a different performer. The 4 hours
are divided into 4 Acts, each lasting 50 minutes, with a 10-minute intermission
between each Act. The public is directed to enter quietly and join in the
silent meditation/performance for any length of time. The Designated Sitter is
provided a white poncho to wear with sunglasses. There are other white garments
for the participants to wear, though optional, and chairs are available as needed.
A sound signals the beginning and end of each Act.
When the idea for this performance arose after conversations about durational
work, it became soon apparent that ‘less is more’ in deciding the specifics of
presentation. Though often throughout the process, the impulse to add and
revise and make lofty (and mundane) connections and intentions became the devil
to wrestle with. The main impulse was a personal one, to involve meditation
into my daily life and practice. Both alchemical and otherwise, it seemed to me
that for a lot of artists, the artistic practice was their spiritual practice,
whether conscious or not. How else to explain the vows or conditions of
poverty, penance, obscurity, and searching, which accompanies many established
traditions of art making. Removed from comfort, the expressions of the soul or
spirit are apparent in the discipline of making, performing, writing, dancing
and like… Not unlike established spiritual traditions and the frameworks or
foundations they provide. Outside of the religious, the seeking and epiphanies
are a part of life’s journey.
In order to facilitate an activity, or non-activity as silently sitting may be, where the cult of personality doesn’t overshadow the participatory intent, a decision was made to cast a lead performer, as one to ‘hold space’ for others to enter and exit as they please. By obligating the performer as the designated sitter, to assume the center via the apparent costume of white poncho, it creates an arena where anyone can occupy a space for others to participate in a shared activity. This performance/non-performance is based on silent communion with another, whether for self-reflection or spiritual pursuit and any other that silent observation can provide.
Reflections and thoughts of each day's Designated Sitter italicized below.
In order to facilitate an activity, or non-activity as silently sitting may be, where the cult of personality doesn’t overshadow the participatory intent, a decision was made to cast a lead performer, as one to ‘hold space’ for others to enter and exit as they please. By obligating the performer as the designated sitter, to assume the center via the apparent costume of white poncho, it creates an arena where anyone can occupy a space for others to participate in a shared activity. This performance/non-performance is based on silent communion with another, whether for self-reflection or spiritual pursuit and any other that silent observation can provide.
Reflections and thoughts of each day's Designated Sitter italicized below.
Craig's List Ad:
** Looking for someone to sit silent with me **
I'm creating an art project in a gallery which involves sitting in silence for 40 hours.
The duration of the project is from July 17-26, 4 hours a day for 10 consecutive days.
I'm looking to hire people to sit with me from 2pm-6pm daily.
I will pay minimum wage, $9.19 hour, for one person each day.
Looking for a different person for each of the 10 days.
No taxes withheld, paid in cash at end of session.
Must wear provided sunglasses and white poncho.
Please contact me if you are interested and which date you would be available.
Day 1
The first 2 Acts went by with difficulty though tolerable. The crossed-legs continued to numb and hips began to ache but focus on breathing allowed it to non-hinder. Through the third Act, my mind began to wander and oscillate between body sensations and memories with their associations. Various imagery aided in concentration; envisioning light emanations, time-lapse clouds, and thoughts of family and friends. If the central intent was to remain present, then the breath was always there though at times the inhaling and exhaling became indistinguishable. As the fourth Act began and it was a return to having my left (less-open hip of the two) as the bottom leg, there was anxiety at the pain which was certain to arise, the “black claw" as teacher described it. Halfway through the last Act, the pain became too unbearable and resulted in extending the leg for the last 15 minutes. In conceiving this project, I had been relying on my experience with art modeling and Butoh dance to carry me across difficult times. Yet, in this instance, the overwhelming pain forced me away from the intention to silently sit in stillness. All in all though, I was happy to have completed the first day. Throughout the rest of evening, my body seemed discombobulated, with persistent numbing in my left shin and soreness in my hips.
While the end of the third hour brought bottom-of-heart gratitude at the experience of pain and its release, the last Act escalated the seeming self-immolation to include dwelling on past traumas. From what I understand, there are memories a body holds in various places, especially the hips, and it’s connected to emotions and the experience of engagement/emancipation - cellular memory and the baggage of years layered upon it. The prompt to let go of past pains is a difficult lesson, as entanglements and attachments seem at times so deeply rooted and entrenched. If nothing else, the day taught me that meditation is pain and peace.
The evening was spent with arnica, a salt bath, cold pads, and research into why the numbing in my leg continued hours after leaving the gallery. While this project was borne of a desire to explore silence/sitting and occupation of space, I was a novice to meditation. As the son of a Presbyterian preacher, I had spent my youth sitting in pews and prayer, yet while there was a similarity in context, the intent seemed divergent - from an articulated devotion to an expansive experiential exercise. The youtubes and Yoga Anatomy book brought suggestions and body knowledge to explore the next day.
" "
Day 6
3. It has been very quiet for a long time. This might go on forever. I am
okay with that. I think, "I could blink out of existence and I'd be okay
with that". Then I think, "It could suck to have someone die in the
middle of your gallery experiment--maybe I should wait to blink out of
existence until there is someone who will be okay to deal with my dead
body."
Day 7
I work in a rapidly changing environment, which impacts my own attention span and sense of time in less-than desirable ways. Sitting in Time is Memory, I was able to connect with the core of myself, and become more comfortable with minimal stimulation. As well, I appreciated the bodily awareness that developed over the course of sitting - appreciating the relief brought by the smallest movement. Four hours with only my mind, breath, and body brought me to a place of peace and sense of wholeness, of satisfaction with myself. I look forward to returning to that place. – E.M.
Day 9
Day 10
The duration of the project is from July 17-26, 4 hours a day for 10 consecutive days.
I'm looking to hire people to sit with me from 2pm-6pm daily.
I will pay minimum wage, $9.19 hour, for one person each day.
Looking for a different person for each of the 10 days.
No taxes withheld, paid in cash at end of session.
Must wear provided sunglasses and white poncho.
Please contact me if you are interested and which date you would be available.
Day 1
Day 1 began with an excited
and nervous energy, along with questions of whether I would be able to sit for
so long, how to sit for hours on end, and logistics involved in making a space
inviting for people - to sit inside on a sunny day in the middle of summer with
no stimuli but oneself is perhaps a default condition on occasion but rarely
one sought out. Fortunately, there were 2 others who sat with me through the
day - a dancer and a school teacher. Teacher had just returned from a Vipassana
retreat and had been generous to share details and tips from the experience.
Many people describe Vipassana as one of the most intense experiences they’ve
gone through. Through serendipitous happenings, teacher ended up as the
poncho-wearer - while the initial response from the Craig’s List ad was
abundant (over 50 in 24hrs), the follow-up replies were minimal and resulted in
cancelations.
The first 2 Acts went by with difficulty though tolerable. The crossed-legs continued to numb and hips began to ache but focus on breathing allowed it to non-hinder. Through the third Act, my mind began to wander and oscillate between body sensations and memories with their associations. Various imagery aided in concentration; envisioning light emanations, time-lapse clouds, and thoughts of family and friends. If the central intent was to remain present, then the breath was always there though at times the inhaling and exhaling became indistinguishable. As the fourth Act began and it was a return to having my left (less-open hip of the two) as the bottom leg, there was anxiety at the pain which was certain to arise, the “black claw" as teacher described it. Halfway through the last Act, the pain became too unbearable and resulted in extending the leg for the last 15 minutes. In conceiving this project, I had been relying on my experience with art modeling and Butoh dance to carry me across difficult times. Yet, in this instance, the overwhelming pain forced me away from the intention to silently sit in stillness. All in all though, I was happy to have completed the first day. Throughout the rest of evening, my body seemed discombobulated, with persistent numbing in my left shin and soreness in my hips.
The Art of Life
I'm thankful for the experience of sitting with others
during the "Time is Memory" project. I had just returned from a
10 day Vipassana retreat and wanted to maintain the meditation practice I had
cultivated while there. My practice was like a tiny green shoot that needed a
fence around it so it could grow bigger and stronger. So when I returned home I
looked forward to meditating in this unconventional space.
What was it like? I felt calm and peaceful sitting in
the gallery space. I enjoyed the random noises both inside the gallery and
those coming from the street. I reminded myself to evoke a sense of equanimity
to bodily sensations: pleasant or unpleasant. Also, I reined in my thoughts
time after time as they galloped after sensations. Instead of thinking thoughts
I focused on circulating energy. Sitting brought me stillness. As I reflect on
the experience, I view the sitting as internal art - sitting together with
others became a shared art form.
Occupying a gallery space expanded a shared
experience into a public forum. The private became shared. The shared became
public. It cost very little but the returns were great. – TK
 |
| End of Day 1 |
Day 2
Day 2 brought
anxiety/excitement and gratitude at the luxury to embark on such a process as
this. I had vacation time saved up at work and the timing worked out. The day
went by enduringly well, painful yes but feeling deeper sensations and
increased concentration to work through distractions. Memories floated by
again, of my father, and friends - one of whom, through another happenstance,
had responded to my anonymous ad and was now the Designated Sitter. A few
tweaks were made to the instructions for participation and the space altered
for more involvement. Waves of tingling would wash over and certain epiphanies,
as ‘all life is breath and movement’ would appear. In order to get through some
painful episodes, repeating ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ cathartically helped along
with sending love and energy out those seated with me and to the universe.
Having done a few Vipassana sittings, I was aware of
the pain I might expect from sitting for hours at a time. I went into it with
some anticipation and a little bit of apprehension. What I didn't expect was
the feeling of serenity and peace that was cultivated within those few short
hours. It was strange to think that we were being watched by outsiders (being
in a gallery) but after awhile everything external drifted away and I succumbed
to a deep meditative state. Cosmic visions, hallucinations and affirmations
confirmed. It was a lovely transformative experience and I'm thankful to have
taken part. – S.S.
 | |
| End of Day 2 |
Day 3
Day 3 brought more pain. I was
heartened as several people came and joined in throughout the day. The original
3 of us – dancer, teacher, and I - had been sitting for all of the Acts thus
far and were accompanied today by a red-haired, young, and enthusiastic
Designated Sitter. The DS had experience in psychic work and modeling and
remarked throughout the day how therapeutic the process was. They talked
about using their own methods and strategies to focus on chakras and healing.
Instead of sitting crossed-legged, their feet were on the floor as it allowed
for earth energies to be drawn upon.
For me, a lot of the discomfort in my hips
became alleviated by placing a rolled-up towel under the bottom crossed-legged
knee as well as experimenting with various types of leg placement. During the
third Act, I tried sitting on the cushion with my legs under me, which proved
to be comfortable for most of the hour until the last 10 minutes or so. I felt
similar sensations of body/breath connections and allowed memories and thoughts
to pass over. By concentrating on being a passive observer to what would arise
from the mind and simply be a witness to it, I was kept from dwelling too deep
when certain emotional states would be triggered. At the end of the day, while
talking with someone who had dropped-in on the last Act, it became apparent how
closely words are connected to mind-body experiences. They had asked how being
silent affected the thought processes when we all think so often in text. It
led to a challenge for the following day, to allow more abstraction, imagery,
and tonal sensations rather than the impulse to describe and encapsulate what’s
happening into words.
As a hobbyist model and a clairvoyant healer, I was
deeply moved by this production. I got to bring in both of my passions,
physical creativity (modeling), and clairvoyant awareness (meditation and
healing). My experience was wonderful, and I had just enough endurance for the
four hours of which I sat. This gave me no excuse to work on being in the
center of my head and connecting with my healing guides and ascended masters. –
S.B.
 | |
| End of Day 3 |
Day 4
There was a little harried-ness
at the beginning of the day due to having drunk more coffee than usual and the
Designated Sitter being a few minutes late. The DS worked at the university in
the psychiatry department and had previous art modeling experience. After
sitting on the cushion for the first Act, they decided to sit on a chair for
the remainder. They held the center and the room very still for the duration.
The first Act was especially difficult due to the aforementioned coffee and
having to urinate. As soon as I sat down, I felt a lot of zinging energy flow
through me and for the first half hour or so, it was both comfortable and
overwhelming. Near the end of the hour, I couldn’t bear it any longer and stood
up and used the bathroom and shook off some of the excess jitters. While I was
disappointed in myself for the indiscretion of leaving the seat prematurely, I
took it as a note to self for future sessions. The remainder of the Act passed
swimmingly. I took time to scan my body on the skeletal level and then added
layers of muscles and organs. This allowed my mind to focus more deeply on the
physical sensations and allowed grounding to take place. Several instances
during the day, I was enlivened to find moments of complete contentment in
finding a comfortable seat and full enjoyment in the process. It felt at times
similar to floating in calm water.
Sharing 4 hours of silence with strangers was a
reminder of the peace we all seek, and hope to share with each other. The
desire for this peace is easily forgotten in the face of attractive
distractions, be they phones, TVs, or fun but meaningless conversations. It is
a gift to ourselves to stop and be. – G.D.
 | |
| End of Day 4 |
Day 5
The day began with an email
from the scheduled Designated Sitter, who had to cancel at the last minute due
to their girlfriend having been in a car accident (!) After several attempts to
find a replacement to no avail, I laid out the poncho and sunglasses as if the
implied presence was enough to hold the space. Interestingly as a result of
this, I spent the first two Acts sitting alone in the space.
While I could feel a subtle
shift in energy by not having another present, it also felt more open and
expansive. The first Act brought an almost tactile sense of soft quiet, both in
the room and internally. About a half hour in, I began to hear my heart
beating. This sensation carried me through intermission with feelings of wonder
and gratitude. The second Act brought continued moments of tranquility with
growing pain in the hips and minor adjustments in response to numbing. Acts 3
and 4 were perhaps my most difficult yet since I started. The pain in my legs
led to beaded sweat rolling down my back and deep begging breaths pleading for
time to sound the bell. The intensity of focus on discomfort brought equal
measure transcendent joy when at moments the pain seemed to literally float
away.
While the end of the third hour brought bottom-of-heart gratitude at the experience of pain and its release, the last Act escalated the seeming self-immolation to include dwelling on past traumas. From what I understand, there are memories a body holds in various places, especially the hips, and it’s connected to emotions and the experience of engagement/emancipation - cellular memory and the baggage of years layered upon it. The prompt to let go of past pains is a difficult lesson, as entanglements and attachments seem at times so deeply rooted and entrenched. If nothing else, the day taught me that meditation is pain and peace.
The evening was spent with arnica, a salt bath, cold pads, and research into why the numbing in my leg continued hours after leaving the gallery. While this project was borne of a desire to explore silence/sitting and occupation of space, I was a novice to meditation. As the son of a Presbyterian preacher, I had spent my youth sitting in pews and prayer, yet while there was a similarity in context, the intent seemed divergent - from an articulated devotion to an expansive experiential exercise. The youtubes and Yoga Anatomy book brought suggestions and body knowledge to explore the next day.
" "
 | |
| End of Day 5 |
The Designator Sitter on this
day was someone who had completed a yoga teacher training, had previously gone
on a Vipassana retreat, and lived in an “egalitarian anarchist household".
They shared some personal history and knowledge about meditation, including
finding the balance between relaxation and rigidity, using the floor to support
you, and breathing into difficult places. There was a story about their father,
how it connected to a knee injury, and the subsequent chronic pain. They said
there was always the constant reminder of the episode and the past decisions held
within the body. Their presence in the space was very anchor-like; I was amazed
that the DS did not leave the seat during the full 4 hours.
I was able to find relief and comfort from having found correct alignment in my seating posture, which after the demanding previous day brought unencumbered gratitude and grace. As the hours rolled by, thoughts concerning the presence and demands of time took over… The seemingly overwrought concern to quantify time in measurements of value, money and how this activity for its intents at non-activity seemed antithetical to what our capitalist mindset would deem appropriate – though studies show if you meditate, you will increase productivity by x-amount, etc. This opportunity and luxury to spend hours each day in repose was a gift. As I had no family of my own to attend to and was taking time-off from my 40-hour a week job, thoughts of how I spend my days and meaningfulness filled the minutes of each Act. In an attempt to remain focused on breath, I tried to keep my daydreams on a short tether. Often, the demands of the everyday seemed distant in an afternoon where the simple challenge was to remain present.
I was able to find relief and comfort from having found correct alignment in my seating posture, which after the demanding previous day brought unencumbered gratitude and grace. As the hours rolled by, thoughts concerning the presence and demands of time took over… The seemingly overwrought concern to quantify time in measurements of value, money and how this activity for its intents at non-activity seemed antithetical to what our capitalist mindset would deem appropriate – though studies show if you meditate, you will increase productivity by x-amount, etc. This opportunity and luxury to spend hours each day in repose was a gift. As I had no family of my own to attend to and was taking time-off from my 40-hour a week job, thoughts of how I spend my days and meaningfulness filled the minutes of each Act. In an attempt to remain focused on breath, I tried to keep my daydreams on a short tether. Often, the demands of the everyday seemed distant in an afternoon where the simple challenge was to remain present.
1. My first day, two people sat across from me during
the first hour.
One was very restless and the second, very still.
At the end of the first hour, the restless one insisted that they leave.
The still one said plaintively, holding up one finger, "just one more?"
One was very restless and the second, very still.
At the end of the first hour, the restless one insisted that they leave.
The still one said plaintively, holding up one finger, "just one more?"
These two people have been talking inside me, over the
past three days.
I've been trying to honor the still person, trying to empty out my
restlessness and let her enjoy sitting, because I find her astonishing and
want to deepen into her world as best I can.
I've been trying to honor the still person, trying to empty out my
restlessness and let her enjoy sitting, because I find her astonishing and
want to deepen into her world as best I can.
2. A baffling array of humanity emerges within the
frame I would call my
body. It is perplexing that the body cannot actually contain all of the
realities experienced through it. I try not to panic. I feel what I would
normally call my face, boil like liquid and my left ear melt away. A
sneeze when held in--becomes a burning heat spreading like lava all along
the right side of my nose and then wide across my face in all directions,
ultimately falling off of the edges of my face and leaving it cool. I
think of the person who pleasantly asked me to sit here and wonder if he
knew that I'd be inhabiting a boiling, melting, burning form,
intermittently slipping into oblivion.
body. It is perplexing that the body cannot actually contain all of the
realities experienced through it. I try not to panic. I feel what I would
normally call my face, boil like liquid and my left ear melt away. A
sneeze when held in--becomes a burning heat spreading like lava all along
the right side of my nose and then wide across my face in all directions,
ultimately falling off of the edges of my face and leaving it cool. I
think of the person who pleasantly asked me to sit here and wonder if he
knew that I'd be inhabiting a boiling, melting, burning form,
intermittently slipping into oblivion.
I remember that what I call my body will not be my body
forever, it will
die--and so, it really cannot be mine. Am I looking for relief from my
body through the knowledge of death, really? I open my eyes and watch the
shadows and light pass and this feels easier. Relaxing. Is this
silence--watching things? Is watching a form of thinking? Now that I'm
thinking about the meaning of watching, I am not silent inside. I close
my eyes and try to find silence. I breathe. Everything opens up, vast
and limitless. Emptiness. Pure nothingness. Contentment. Santosha. I
realize that I am wearing sunglasses and this is pure comedy, to be
wearing sunglasses as the world veers from universally beautiful to
cellularly torturous and back again.
die--and so, it really cannot be mine. Am I looking for relief from my
body through the knowledge of death, really? I open my eyes and watch the
shadows and light pass and this feels easier. Relaxing. Is this
silence--watching things? Is watching a form of thinking? Now that I'm
thinking about the meaning of watching, I am not silent inside. I close
my eyes and try to find silence. I breathe. Everything opens up, vast
and limitless. Emptiness. Pure nothingness. Contentment. Santosha. I
realize that I am wearing sunglasses and this is pure comedy, to be
wearing sunglasses as the world veers from universally beautiful to
cellularly torturous and back again.
Then, my left hip hurts. What does this even mean,
"hurt"? I try to
figure out what to do with this impression of hurt. Do I feel it, but not
judge it as unwanted? Do I move the leg in desperation? Do I try to
distract myself? Is there a way that I can experience this and not think
of it as mine or not think of it as pain? My hip hurt enough during the
last four days that I tried all of these and many other tactics.
figure out what to do with this impression of hurt. Do I feel it, but not
judge it as unwanted? Do I move the leg in desperation? Do I try to
distract myself? Is there a way that I can experience this and not think
of it as mine or not think of it as pain? My hip hurt enough during the
last four days that I tried all of these and many other tactics.
I watch my mind racing all over creation in a desperate
attempt to be
somebody, anybody. I am left with the impression that my body is much
more reasonable than my mind, even though my body has proven preposterous.
My body feels like a patient friend who watches a hysterical friend and
just loves them, because they are actually a friend. I wonder if everyone
has these same experiences--if everyone feels ashamed of being in a body
and of having such a fractured consciousness? I feel a wave of sorrow for
anyone who suffers like this and then a wave of gentleness for anyone who
suffers like this. Twice, tears flew from my right eye like a stream,
like there was a broken gasket around my eye socket. The first time it
happened, I thought it could be blood pouring from my skull through my eye
onto all of that white material, below. I didn't open my eye, if it was
blood, there was nothing I could do about it, it had already fallen.
somebody, anybody. I am left with the impression that my body is much
more reasonable than my mind, even though my body has proven preposterous.
My body feels like a patient friend who watches a hysterical friend and
just loves them, because they are actually a friend. I wonder if everyone
has these same experiences--if everyone feels ashamed of being in a body
and of having such a fractured consciousness? I feel a wave of sorrow for
anyone who suffers like this and then a wave of gentleness for anyone who
suffers like this. Twice, tears flew from my right eye like a stream,
like there was a broken gasket around my eye socket. The first time it
happened, I thought it could be blood pouring from my skull through my eye
onto all of that white material, below. I didn't open my eye, if it was
blood, there was nothing I could do about it, it had already fallen.
3. It has been very quiet for a long time. This might go on forever. I am
okay with that. I think, "I could blink out of existence and I'd be okay
with that". Then I think, "It could suck to have someone die in the
middle of your gallery experiment--maybe I should wait to blink out of
existence until there is someone who will be okay to deal with my dead
body."
Routinely, I return to the same question. Have I
been quiet? Is this
quiet? I have had moments of complete quiet, but much of the time the
amount of inside sound made by my hyperactive consciousness has been
moderately to extremely loud. I wonder if this affects other people here?
I wonder if the silent moments affect other people here? Have I cheated
by having an inner monologue that I could not mute or lower the volume on?
quiet? I have had moments of complete quiet, but much of the time the
amount of inside sound made by my hyperactive consciousness has been
moderately to extremely loud. I wonder if this affects other people here?
I wonder if the silent moments affect other people here? Have I cheated
by having an inner monologue that I could not mute or lower the volume on?
Beyond what other people are and what they might think
of my spontaneous
death or capacity for quietude, I also revisit this a number of times: I
have the rare privilege to sit and do absolutely nothing while much of
humanity is racing through these hours. Am I using this privilege well?
Am I doing as much work as I possibly can to bring happiness into the
world, through bringing myself to peace, through alleviating my suffering?
death or capacity for quietude, I also revisit this a number of times: I
have the rare privilege to sit and do absolutely nothing while much of
humanity is racing through these hours. Am I using this privilege well?
Am I doing as much work as I possibly can to bring happiness into the
world, through bringing myself to peace, through alleviating my suffering?
A moment before every break, I experienced a longing
for the break to
arrive. Except on the fourth hour of the fourth day. I'd just prepared
myself to go on forever and I was fine with it and then came the sound to
break. Not only had I not longed for the ending, but it was surprisingly
unwanted, the intrusion of endings on endlessness. I got up to return to
my regular life, but there is a part of me that never did get up, that
remains seated, just being and breathing. – L.
arrive. Except on the fourth hour of the fourth day. I'd just prepared
myself to go on forever and I was fine with it and then came the sound to
break. Not only had I not longed for the ending, but it was surprisingly
unwanted, the intrusion of endings on endlessness. I got up to return to
my regular life, but there is a part of me that never did get up, that
remains seated, just being and breathing. – L.
 | |
| End of Day 6 |
On each of the previous days,
the Designated Sitter had been sitting in the same location. Today, it was
rearranged as a mysterious person walked in, dressed in black, said they had
worked for a time as a museum guard. Their artful presence added a salon-like feel
to the performance. The DS was very still and stoic in a chair, a very solid
presence. During an intermission, a movement artist asked what the difference
was between meditation and dreamtime. A photographer also visited and talked
about their father having had a meditation practice between architecture and
kung fu.
There was heightened awareness
of room and spatial sounds. Street chatter, skateboards, sirens sounding in the
silent room. Focusing on the diaphragm and full breaths. Also, oddly, pooling
saliva and timing each swallow, so as to not disturb the stillness. All the
while, trying to calm that cantankerous mind.
My first thought when we began was "What if your
first impression of someone, your first meeting with someone, was a four
hour silent meditation?” This question popped up in my mind throughout the
afternoon. For me, the first hour felt most difficult, and the last one (fourth
hour) the easiest. My meditation skills and experience are very limited,
only begun this year, and practice less than once a week. Tried to stay
focused on breathing, but also didn't fight or condemn stream of consciousness
or random thoughts.
During the first hour, as I settled in and began to
focus, I had an image as though it felt like my mind, or I, floated up to the
sky - blue with clouds and sun - and then continued out in to space, past the
moon, and off into the solar system. The word "vortex" also drifted
into my mind. This probably only accounted for several seconds to less than a
minute, but was very clear. The second hour felt very workman-like, and it was
during that time I felt as if I meditated the best, longest, and most focused.
The third hour presented the most physical challenges for me. My neck was very
sore and stiff in a strange spot. Quite persistent, and difficult to work
through. And in the fourth hour - an airy feeling, time flew by. I was
surprised that I achieved a new level of physical comfort.
During breaks and afterwards, I felt compelled to
speak almost in whispers, and/or keep talk to a minimum. Plus doing so was
easy, as I seemed to feel more inside myself, yet with clearer thoughts &
vision. Immediately following, for at least an hour or more, I
felt relaxed, clean (as in cleansed), almost euphoric, intense and
smiley. And it felt like spoken words would break that "spell". I
felt a lingering bond with those I had meditated with. Getting paid at the end
felt odd, almost wrong, as if a financial transaction might actually
detract from the situation, and somehow diminish my resulting
experience. How I felt afterward was an unexpected benefit, as I went into the
agreement with the responsibility that one might treat a job and little
more. – S.M.
Day 8
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| End of Day 7 |
A history teacher was the
Designator Sitter for the day - a teacher to middle school students, whose
energy she loves. Dressed in formal black and jewelry - elegance for austerity.
Sitting on the floor, stillness seemed to shroud them. They talked about having
had an intermittent meditation practice and wanting to further it. They were
also enjoying the summer break and heading to the lake afterwards.
The Acts passed smoothly and
silence set upon the room. Time cycled in expected intervals. Occasionally, the
typing of the gallery attendant or traffic would intervene, but otherwise, on a
sunny summer afternoon, a few of us sat in sunglasses and sat and sat… During
the intermission before the last Act, those seated talked about and compared the
ways of sitting comfortably - raising the cushion to tilt the pelvis, using
towels or blankets, how to arrange the legs, and how to alleviate the numbing.
It seemed profound how this process, this problem-solving, of learning how to
sit, was so important and difficult for the simplest of acts.
I work in a rapidly changing environment, which impacts my own attention span and sense of time in less-than desirable ways. Sitting in Time is Memory, I was able to connect with the core of myself, and become more comfortable with minimal stimulation. As well, I appreciated the bodily awareness that developed over the course of sitting - appreciating the relief brought by the smallest movement. Four hours with only my mind, breath, and body brought me to a place of peace and sense of wholeness, of satisfaction with myself. I look forward to returning to that place. – E.M.
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| End of Day 8 |
There was an opening never
filled for the Designator Sitter role today, so for the first Act, I sat. The
soft, alpaca wool poncho felt warm and swaddling as the hood went up. Felt very
monk-like, thought about the young man killed in Florida, and Jedi's and poker players like the Unabomber (the discipline, patience, and focus required in poker seemed similar to this practice). Wondered about development of robes, cloaks, and medi-wear,
spiritual fashion - how comfort fits to veil a sacrificial act. The D.S. who
first sat on the 6th day had returned each day afterwards and was presented
with the poncho to wear for the rest of the time. The day was wrapped in felt.
The mind fluttered between ether-like suspension and trying to cultivate
feelings of heart and healing.
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| End of Day 9 |
The dancer from the first day
was cast as the Designated Sitter for the last day. It made me think of what it
must be like for someone trained in dance since very young, how they must feel
sitting still for hours at a time. Whether sitting still is movement and how
bodies relate to geologic time. As the final Acts passed gently, I was filled
with gratitude and could only repeat “yes” “thank you” to the grace which
surrounded me. “May all beings be happy and free.”
Everything Is In The Process Of Becoming More Open And
Free
I was the 10th Designated Sitter. I had joined DK in
sitting for 8 previous days, and the TIME IS MEMORY performance marked my first
real, dedicated and lengthy exploration of silent sitting and meditation. On
this day, it was I who draped the warm soft poncho over my head. I had
witnessed the previous Designated Sitters in the same costume and recalled each
of their faces, bodies and postures as I took my seat. Underneath the weight of
the wool I felt cocooned, safely supported in this cream colored alpaca
tent.
As I sat I worked mostly with focus on breath. I saw
and felt my diaphragm expanding and contracting. I visualized my body's
interior; muscles, bones, nerves, organs. I breathed and breathed and breathed
some more. I imagined my central spinal column, watching as the breath moved
from crown to tail. I sensed tingling in my skull's fissures and noticed areas
of sensation in my body. Images drifted in and out of my consciousness as I saw
flowers unfolding, kittens playing, a golden brain emerging from a body.
My concentration waxed and waned. At times I found
myself listening to the sweet mélange of the world's sounds: the street, cars,
ambulances, people walking by, talking, pounding, drilling, the gallery
attendant opening her water bottle, muffled laughs, the hum of electricity in
the room, the water fountain turning on and off, other sitters in the circle
swallowing, a church's nearby bells. I felt the gallery temperature get cooler
as time wore on. Underneath closed eyelids I saw the cosmos projected before
me; cars driving by became comets, shooting stars, the Milky Way. Instead of distractions
I was grateful for the complex universe I found myself floating in.
During the final Act I somehow slowly, very slowly,
slid off the edge of my cushion. My crossed legs caught me and I found myself
in the yogi's Maha Mudra seat. With my pelvis touching my heels and perched on
the very front of my sit bones I felt perfectly aligned and centered. Maha
Mudra means "great seal." It was the end of my meditation marathon
and I felt as if this posture had deemed me ready for graduation...signed,
stamped and sealed. A sentence came into my head: everything is in the process of becoming more open and
free. Then, as always, the light twinkly
bells of the alarm sounded, marking the end of the final sit. I opened my eyes
to the faces of those around me and gratefully smiled. – J.K.
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| End of Day 10 |
Beginning of Day 10 photos by
Bruce Tom:
