I stride in large steps along a path I know well

To work, a lecture, school,

A walk with the dog.

How much time do I have available?

20 minutes?

Half an hour?

45 minutes?

5 minutes?

Certainly too little.

I quicken my pace.

In my thoughts, I am already where I want to arrive.

What kind of surface lies beneath my feet?

Black asphalt,

Dry and uncommunicative;

it absorbs energy,

radiates heat into the already scorching summer air;

stains snow in record time,

painfully scrapes skin when falling

…

I pour the full weight of my body into it

From one foot to the other

Right foot, then left

Right heel, outer edge of the foot, then toes

For a moment I am on the toes of my right foot before the left heel takes over.

Each step is a balancing act between falling and restoring balance once again.

A moment in between;

a moment of uncertainty;

leaving the familiar

for the unknown.

Even though in my thoughts I am already where I need to arrive, it is uncertain how this step will end.

The 26 bones of the foot balance the weight of the entire body.

Just for a moment, I will slow down

Sink into the melted asphalt

and grow a little taller.

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić

Close your eyes

Open skin, ears, antennae, tentacles, pores…

Allow what is around you to touch you

Continuously and unquestioningly

Let curiosity be stronger than fear

Surrender instead of control

The diversity of structures, surfaces, textures, temperatures, forms…

Accompanied by movement… even if imperceptible

Encounter,

negotiation,

conditioning

How do I change what I touch, and how does what I touch change me?

How deeply does my imprint penetrate the environment, and

the imprint of the environment into me?

Gradually open your eyes

Touch with your eyes

Stroke surfaces, lean into colors, allow forms to touch you

Without assigning meaning

Without recognizing what you already know

Let what is around become the center

And become the environment yourself

Shift from center to periphery

Wrap around, embrace

What is near and what is distant…

the sky, a cloud, a star, or the light that remains of it.

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić

In the third week of embryonic development, buds appear on the worm-like body — from which limbs grow.

Spirally,

supported by internal flows, tissue forms that will become bones.

Upper arms, forearms, hands

Thighs, lower legs, feet…

Bones and the spaces between them

Gaps that enable movement and ligaments that guide it

With gentle articulation of the joints, I connect to the spatiality within the limbs

To the possibility that each bone initiates movement in a specific direction

inviting the rest to follow.

The question becomes a dance.

Like into a glove, the bones of the limbs grow into their own form.

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić

Place your hands on your heart

An organ the size of a clenched fist

With an average weight of about 300 g

Behind the sternum, in the mediastinum — the central chest space, its tip pointing to the left

It beats, thumps, pumps, faster or slower, louder or softer,

tirelessly.

If it stops, it’s over, I am over.

I hold it, and it holds me

In life.

I remain for a while in listening.

Then I begin to move my hands, circling in one direction, then the other.

I stop.

I start again — this time from the heart.

The heart circles one way, then the other — moving my hands.

I inhale.

On the exhale, I imagine the heart expanding in all directions — backward, sideways, forward.

At the end of the exhale, I release.

I follow the exhale with a continuous sound “ssssss”,

then with another sound,

from the heart

I move the heart with voice, I sound from the heart.

I activate the vocal cords and the whole body from the heart.

I open my hands and open my entire self from the heart.

I close my hands into an embrace.

I draw to my heart myself, another, the world.

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić