I had a dream that my dad stood before me, emaciated, like a corpse. He stumbled softly toward me. I heard him exhale deeply as he fell into my arms. I caught him and held him close. It was not a nightmare. It was not horrifying, but it was vivid, so vivid still in my memory/imagination. It was tender and quiet.
So, in this performance, I attempted to recreate this moment, this gesture, from the dream. I call this seed “falling ancestor.” I depict my dad’s mom, my Grandma Lillah, falling and I, as the performer reach to catch her. I am compelled to steep in contemplation of the meaning, of the significance of the actions of falling, reaching, and catching as it relates to my ancestor’s compelling moment. I wonder if this dream has remained so vivid because there is an intergenerational call echoing through time within it.
Reflections:
I’m old enough to be my grandma’s mom. What is her experience of me reaching back through time to touch her, now as her elder? Does she evolve in the spirit realm, or remain eternally young as the day she died?
Diane’s proposal: I’m also interested in how you catch your ancestor’s compelling moment…so honing in on a moment when your ancestor may have needed to be caught and held.