Goddess of Hope
The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.
St. Jerome
Tsuki Moves
The Goddess is still
Tsuki is not still
The Goddess moves
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Teacher Student
Child Parent
Female Male
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Tsuki sits, adoring Goddess
Goddess dances, worshiping Tsuki
She is who?
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Loud still
Skin no skin
Kill be killed
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Tsuki is still
Goddess is still
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Goddess takes off mask
It was clenched between her teeth
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END
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Poetic Reflection by Fabrice Morel
Agung Gunawan in Berlin
This reflective writing is alive and shifting as the gently flowing canals of Berlin or the almighty Java Sea. It is to help me process a powerful moment passed with words moving forward. It is likely to be added to and edited back in the future.
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These days with Agung in Berlin came unexpectedly. He was invited to lead a two-week workshop at Tanzart-Centrum in Kirshau, a village near Dresden, and asked me if I could organize a workshop and performance for him in Berlin, less than a month before arriving. Though excited, I was anxious about being able to provide him with a platform worthy of his mastery. After further discussion with Agung and other friends here, I organized a one-day workshop and performance at Ghost Yoga (a warehouse yoga community where I teach weekly) on Monday 6th of May.
It isn't so much my experience of the workshop or performance itself which I feel the need to reflect on. It is rather the time spent together, especially the silent exchanges between us which framed the event.
My strongest remaining impression was that of walking on the street pavement together without speaking. Sometimes, with his suitcases rolling behind us or souvenirs for his family in our hands, he would walk a few paces behind me. Words were not needed. We were both calm and hyper aware of the sensory information surrounding us, and passing through. This dance between dances; filled with hope for what is real and alive in each moment that passes.
About 2 years ago, I was a guest at his village in Pacitan, Indonesia, participating in his 10-day workshop there. However, the same hope filled silence felt unavailable to me then. I was lost deep inside, in a state of depression and anxiety. I had lost trust in my body. Simply walking from guest house to studio was heavy and painful. Before the workshop began I had attempted to drown myself at a nearby beach. The enormous power of the sea didn't take my body, the waves instead hitting me into a rock which violently saved my life. The shock of this news came to Agung who did all he could to comfort and understand me.
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I mention this dark moment in Indonesia because it gives context to how empowering and healing it was to have him here in Berlin two years later as my teacher and guest. However there is still enormous pain and regret in this body that only movement through the senses can release.
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The silence between us spoke of all that had passed, all that was passing and all that is yet to be. How can you honestly speak about love, pain, and change with words? Poetry touches on it, as does visual art, music, and dance.
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I realise now in seeing this reflective writing before me, how Agung has acted as a clear and calm mirror to my psyche. This is perhaps the greatest gift a teacher, an artist, a shaman can offer; the key between worlds, and ultimate transcendence.
Sitting under the Moon I tell my story
He listened to it silently
And my scars started to fade
Hope someday I can do the same for the Moon
- Freak Poet
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Tarima Kasih Mas Agung
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