06 Aug 15 - 08 Aug 15
Now Is The Time
Thursday 6th August 7.30pm
Saturday 8th August 4pm
If you were asked to close your eyes and imagine something tranquil, what is it that comes to you?
Are you standing by the sea, or in a field, or a pool of dappled light in a forest clearing? Is this place remembered from your childhood, or the place you felt the fingertips of romance, or are you infused with epic landscapes from film? Or perhaps your head goes to bed and you’re in-between clean cotton sheets, with a warm breeze on your bare arms and the last sunlight blinking warm through the window.
Your breathing becomes deep and slow. You begin to relax.
But you are not alone. You are only at the beginning. This is a journey which will guide you into questioning your sense of self and belonging.
A woman is crouching in a large cardboard box full of packaging materials. She is naked but for a blue plastic bag on her head and a white plastic bag on her arse, like a nappy. The bag on her head has two boggely eyes stuck to it. She has chipped red nail varnish and a cartoon voice. She stands up.
TIRESIAS: Does my bum look big in this?
She produces a banana from the box.
TIRESIAS: BAN-AN-A. BAN-AN-A.
She stroke the banana.
Drops the skin on the floor, puts the end of the banana in her mouth. She mouths the banana through the bag realising she can’t eat it. She gestures defeat. Takes the banana out of her mouth and drops it into her pants and rubs her belly, happy with the solution. She points at the banana skin on the floor.
TIRESIAS: That is a health hazard, buddy. I must warn you. Your health is now at risk. Your health. Your body. Your good body. Your good and blessed body. The flesh and the blood and the bone and the body. The good body. Such a good body, buddy. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body.
(She points between herself and the audience. The pace quickens)
My body. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body. My body. Your body. Somebody stop me.
(she falls into her box)
Somebody? Nobody. No body, no cry. No cry. No tears. Don’t cry. No cry.
Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look. Only my eyes are not my eyes. My eyes are dim, I cannot see. You see? These are Agnieska’s eyes. She can see you, and you can see me, but I cannot see, you see. Yes? No.
No, no, no, no, no. No one. No one. No one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Close your eyes. All of you close your eyes, there’s nothing to see here. Gently close your eyes and count back slowly, ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one…
More? No more.
Close your eyes.
Feel the floor beneath your feet. Feel your weight shift. Feel your chest rise and fall as you breath.
Feel your tongue lying in your mouth. Feel your eyeballs sitting in your sockets. Feel the pockets of air in your palms.
Stretch your hands.
Feel them relax by your sides.
Breath deep and slow. Follow the rise and fall. Relax. Feel you hands relax by your sides.
Your body and my body. Your body, my body, your body, my body, your body.
The body that came out of your mother’s body. Your body was a baby, buddy. Once upon a time.
Imagine your mother’s face. Imagine her young and smiling. Imagine her happy. Imagine the first
time she saw your father. Imagine their first words to each other. Imagine the first moment their
hands touched. Imagine their first kiss. Imagine the first time he pushed his cock inside her.
Petri dish? If you happen. You happened buddy.
Take your thoughts back to childhood. Place yourself in your family home. Walk from your bedroom, to the bathroom. Look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. See yourself as a child.
Now, see yourself as a teenager.
Now, see as a young adult.
Falling in love. Getting married. Having children.
See yourself middle aged.
Success. Failure. Happiness. Sorrow. Traced across your face.
Your hands clutching the sink in your childhood home. Now leave that room, but imagine walking is difficult. Your good body, not what it was buddy. Shut the door behind you and walk through the house into the kitchen. Take the bread from the bread bin. Make yourself a sandwich. Feel the weight of the knife in your hand. Feel the weight of the knife.
Feel the weight of the knife. Feel the weight of a knife.
I recall the boy I knew. I recall the stabbing. When I make a sandwich.
The weight of a knife. The object in hand. The sharp edge. The point. The particles of steel in line. The hard particles that will part the particles of the flesh and the blood and the bone and the body. Should you push the power of your body into my body, with the object in hand. Feel my warm
blood on your hand. Feel the weight of a body. Feel the weight of a knife.
A banana will not do it. I did try.
Is that a memory or an imagining?
My attention is shot. My memory is shoddy, buddy. I can’t remember. I’ll Google it.
I cannot remember.
TIRESIAS: Where was I? Where was your old friend Tiresias, buddy?
TIRESIAS: In a box. Probably. We will all end up in a box. Probably. Like the lost and found.
Loose yourself buddy.
Find yourself buddy.
Begin again. Begin again. Begin again.
Close your eyes. Breath deep and slow. Follow the rise and fall. Relax. Feel your hands relax by your sides. Imagine I’m by your side. I’m on your side. I’m by your side. I’m on your side. I’m by your side. Holding your hand. Your out stretched hand. Imagine feeling the out stretched future between us. The chemistry and warmth and breath between you and me. Between your body and my body. Your body, my body, your body, my body, your body.
Let your focus slip between your legs. Feel the warm gentle hum of nerve endings. The space between the tips, the lips, the holes. Feel the fleshy phallic, yonic, yolky middle of you. Imagine pushing the power of your body into my body. Your body inside my body. Feel the weight of a body. Your body, my body, your body, my body.
A banana will do it. I tried that too.
Is that a memory or an imagining?
Tiresias places a confetti shooter between her legs and strokes it.
And then listen (whispers)
Listen for a whimper.
Close your eyes and listen (whispers)
Tiresias let’s off a confetti shooter with a bang, which covers everyone and everything in confetti.
Cue Drumming in the room next door.