WARNING: THIS TEXT IS GOOGLE TRANSLATED
TITLE: IT WILL BE EXITING
I have decided to teach myself healing and to do it on other people during an art exhibition. In the spring I will be leaving for the last time as a student, at Tromsø Art Association. A couple of years ago I held a performance where I tried to give one minute healing to passers-by. It was art, but still not art, I wanted to work in the borderland. When we discussed the work afterwards, several people criticized me and asked where the art was in this. Wasn't it just healing? But, I had thought carefully about what I was doing and thought I had the concept clear to me. The material I worked with was healing energy and the meetings with other people, the rest was not so important. The art, for me, was to investigate what art is, doing something outside the gallery space, outside the art public and without defining the action as art above the participants. Having taken such a big step toward the conceptual, which was what I felt I did, I lost interest in what I had been doing before, which were things that can be exhibited and looked at. When I started with objects again, it was with ideas of being able to create magic objects. I used materials like sugar and objects that I charged with energy to use them in rituals. After a while, I longed to explore healing and one-on-one meetings again. The professors thought the objects were good and wanted me to concentrate on them, but I had decided a long time ago. The most daunting challenge, I thought, was to sit in a gallery and present themselves as a healer instead of exhibiting dead things. An important part of recharging objects depends on one's own abilities. Why not just put out the source of the energies.
I mail my professor and tell him about my plans.
Yeah, so basically he’s saying that it will be exiting, hence the title of the project.
When I had just moved here, there were often posters at the grocery store, very easy to see for anyone who was going to shop. It said: Do you feel tired for no reason? Healing hours can help you! The healer, a lady, offered free group healing on Saturdays. It seemed very generous, almost too good to be true. But how effective could this group healing be, and who is it seeking? Many years ago I took a course in a healing technique called reiki. Several of the course participants seemed quite depressed, including myself. I imagine that there are such people who meet up.
The healer also arranged collections, and she announced that she was learning to develop as a "medium" and referred to various literature on the subject. When I reported my interest it was too late. The meetings were canceled.
I plan to ask for a healing time and at the same time ask her what healing is and how she experiences it.
I send a message to the healer and she has time tonight so I order an hour. After confirming the order, it feels like she is tuning in to me. In a way, a channel is opened between us, an open pipe that you can "see" through. To compare it with something everyday: one sits on the same plane as someone you know and is aware that the other is there, at the same time you know that the other is also aware of you, but you are far too far apart that it is natural to talk to each other. Or, to compare it with something less everyday, she was Sauron who scouted me with her eye, I was Frodo.
I meet her in the evening. She rents a small office in a gray office building. Already in the hall she says that she has already started working on my energy. I know and hope for a change in consciousness, but I am quite familiar. I say that I am there for two reasons, I want healing, I want to get rid of some allergies and I want to talk a little with her. She promptly asks if I will publish this somewhere, that she is not interested in being interviewed. Many people want to hang out people who do such things. I am worried that I have ruined the mood for the rest of the hour and rejoice and assure her that I have nothing to do with the press. The camera stays in my clothes bag and I tell you that I will write notes because it is part of the documentation of a project. Then I let her know about my ambitious plans to become a healer.
- My log from the project will probably be read by very few people, I tell and remind myself at the same time of how unpopular contemporary art is.
She asks if I know what mediumship is. What should I say, I know that a medium is a term for someone who channels spirits, communicates with deceased people, is psychic. She never mentions spirits or deceased, but I understand that being a medium is how she considers her practice; She is a channel to another plan. Healing as something that happens through her, but the source is outside.
-It is difficult to answer what healing is, as it is a very large field. People can do it in different ways. I don't need to touch anyone physically, I'm working on the energies. I am assisted by several invisible helpers.
-What help then?
-I can't elaborate on that.
-Are there many?
- Are they here in the room now? She seems to be thinking before she confirms.
-I want to show you a breathing exercise that I think can help you. Is it okay for you?
- Are you good at breathing?
- Great, I'm very healthy. I can hold my breath for a long time, I boast. I lay on a bench while the healer sat down on a chair. It's cold, I'm trying to go into a meditative state but are both frozen and excited. The room is not particularly cozy. This healer is not concerned with fine colors and crystals, I think. It is a regular office but with a high bench along the wall.
-Are you a person holding yourself back?
-Yes maybe. I thought I was getting better. At least I kept myself back before.
- I don't like being so fussy, if I say things then I want it to be fun.
- To make people happy.
-You might not get healing for exactly what you asked for, but for something you can enjoy very much. Regarding allergies, do not go home and believe you have recovered and eat things you cannot tolerate.
- I'm not stupid, I exclaim. (I suspect I might have appeared a little naive.)
-No, but I just don't want you to think it's so that you can now eat anything. You will probably find that what you got healing for is something that will help you in a better way in the long run.
- By the way, I'm going to take new pictures to my website and need someone to be statistics if you're interested?
- Yes I can be.
I've signed up for the River of Wishes workshop. It lasts for three days and ends with a public performance where we perform a ritual to fulfill our deepest desires.
We sit on the floor of a ring and introduce ourselves. The average age may be 35. Some have danced, made theater before, one is shaman and has his own drum, another has a flute with him.
The Poland is known for alternative high-level theater, says H, one of the initiators. She wants more rituals in life. The theater group from Poland is, as I expect, theater people: warm, colorful, happy, outgoing. One of the leaders presents himself as a clown, he has been a street artist for many years.
Those who are musicians are set to improvise background music while others walk slowly on the floor.
- Meet your eyes when you pass each other. Look each other into the eyes. Keep eye contact, replace person after a while. Keep your eyes long, look each other deeply into your eyes, and eventually you can start touching each other. Wish the other something good. Say what you want for the other.
-I wish you will have a lot of nature in your life!
-I wish you a lot of light!
-I wish you can heal many people!
- Cross the room with your eyes closed, I'll catch you up, says the big leader. We jump from one end of the room to the other. Some go but many take charge and run. I think I'll be able to run until I get caught in the arms of the leader, but the brain starts to doubt. Now I soon hit the wall, think it and slow me down.
-Haha, he shouts. I love to see you like that, totally helpless, you are so cute!
A person enters the ring with his eyes closed. Everyone starts to make sounds around him. We go close until he, cries in his ears. I go into the circle, everyone makes sounds, and I know many hands around the whole body, of course, respectfully. Some make wind sounds and other sounds.
A new person should get the treatment, -We love you, shout the clown. We make kiss sounds around her and lift her up and walk around with her over our heads. One more, she is laid in the ground and dragged along the floor. Suddenly people are lying on top of her in a cluster on the floor.
We are in a cluster and are a unit. We walk a little around the room like a creature with many feet. A person is pushed out and has to break in again with power. A new person is ejected from the human cluster. The creature laughs and makes fun of her, refuses to incorporate her and she is too weak. The cluster sticks firmly together.
We start singing an Eastern European folk song. I'm starting to get tired, we've been going for three hours and the song is gloomy, albeit multitask. Everyone sings full-necked, it's not clean.
A person enters the ring and improvises song. The others are singing low. The manager knelt her while she sings. Get her free. She shrinks and releases. Another person enters the ring. She screams like a bird, she herself hears that she resembles a seagull and begins to flake with her arms while she is stuck in the manager's firm grip. He gnaws and breaks her free, too.
I didn't meet on day 2. I feel like a bad person.
-Heei Emilie! You are here! So nice to see you!
- Excuse me for not coming yesterday, but I was so tired.
- It was like a stab in the heart when you didn't come, but now everything is fine again, he says, who is the most clown of the actors.
Everyone smiles so warmly.
We practice a routine that we will perform the next day. He who is best at playing the dark energy gets the role. He must be fought and captured by a group that eventually surrounds him and begins to sing the same song we have sung before. A white-clad group then comes in, and we surround him, he prays for grace, we kill him with a sword and he burns. Then he emerges from the ashes and begins to dream. We illustrate a boat, a love affair and that he has wings that he eventually releases. The next day, the public show of what we have created will happen, but there will be a demonstration against pollution in the square at about the same time, so we worry that no one will come and see us. I suggest we can walk down the square and be part of the selection, and we contact the organizers. Our ritual has been given a purpose, it will help the fjord and the desires will deal with pure nature and no to pollution.
This is the day we are going to make our performance public. I'm a little unwell, I think this play is embarrassing to be on. I'm not nervous or anxiety, I can do quite a bit strange in front of an audience if there's something I've found. I arrive a little late and get some brief instructions. I have whitish clothes I have been told. They have changed a little on the choreography. When we enter the room we will move our arms in a circle. One arm should go half as slowly as the other, but when we practice, none of us is synchronized and it looks completely random.
- Just keep up and follow what the others do, I am told. It's going to go well.
These are such words that I do not like to hear. The audience will see that none of us have actually practiced. The clown actress has dressed like an Indian guru. We paint pattern on our faces with white clay. I'm reluctant with clay: some dots in the temples, some geisha strokes on my lips are enough for me. I hope no one I know appears. The plan is to go down to the square after our performance inside. There we will do a little ritual where we want the best for the fjord and where the audience can share their wishes. I participate in the performance without any problems. Completion is surprisingly enjoyable and the little audience comes up and shares their wishes they too. We want peace and a small house and many great things. A child wants a car. I keep a low profile, but realize that I wanted my healing skills. It was my motivation to participate. I get more and more uncomfortable when we dress, start walking towards the square and the gang begins with the unsynchronized arm movements on the way down the hill. One of us looks like a guru. We look like a kind of sect. I look desperately around for familiar. I see a famous artist, but no one else. I stuck away in the crowd, I take some snow in my hand and wash away the camp from my face.
I'm leaving the group.
I think I've got a lot left for the healing I got earlier in the week and send a text message to the healer and say that I thought it helped. At the same time, I ask when she will arrange a photo shoot for her website, but it is certainly canceled.
My electric bike was stolen today. I use to take such things pretty nicely. Thinking that there was only one thing, the physical world is perishable, perhaps it was karma. But I didn't take it so well, I was very sorry, hurt, desperate. I ride every day to and from the Academy to save money. I was so tired of riding a regular bike, especially in the winter. With regular bike it took an hour home if it was bad weather. There was a sofa inside a dark seminar room. I put it on and closed my eyes. I sobbed a little, so I tried to imagine the thief. It was a dark shadow, a man. I couldn't imagine any characteristics, but I sent off thoughts that gave him a bad conscience, and that he felt bad and didn't calm down until he delivered it back. I didn't know what else I could do. I feel weak.
A little later in the evening, when I was waiting for the bus, a guy on an electric bike rode right past me. It was my bike. A slightly low guy with a big hat disappears around the corner. The ground is covered with fresh snow and I can follow the tracks. He has cycled a little slalom along the pedestrian street and in some places the tracks disappear into heated stone slabs, but I find them a little further ahead. After a while there are only slate shells and no traces. I might as well go on, the bus has run anyway. I am tired, have not eaten anything, but suddenly I notice he is far ahead. He has relaxed because he has met an acquaintance. I am running to reach him again with a heavy bag, a bag of food and thick winter clothes on me. He is in a crowded cross. Super Mario star is not there and what is the black thing on the board? (It was the foot lantern, but I didn't recognize it.) I say hello. He looks confused at me, I ask if it's his bike. He says nothing, I ask again. He stares straight ahead and gives gas. I had no strategy. I didn't grab the board. He disappears. I follow the tracks a bit more, but then I can't bear anymore.
The police promise to look after him. I am very proud of the message I give of the guy, I have always wanted to be a perfect eyewitness, come up with an effective, relevant hit without unnecessary information. I imagine the police are happy. They say: Finally, a factual and good description, we once realized who it was!
17th of March
I have visited a friend from the philosophy study I took a long time ago. It is good to have a friend visiting who is sleeping in the apartment. I am the only one who has slept here until now. I think the apartment misses an initiation party. It remains a sense of an unfinished building, of workers coming and going. Different workers work in the hallways, and all have universal keys. One time they locked the idiots into the apartment while I was sleeping. They do not know what they are doing; No one brings with them agreements that are made verbally. You might as well roar messages out to sea.
I have not seen C in ten years and he came in the middle of a crisis when I, as the worst, need company. But I didn't know anything about struggling, he just wanted to see Northern Norway because he had never been here before. When he arrived I mentioned that I was depressed or anxious (I have no official diagnosis on this). He told about his tenant who is depressed and he is nice and compassionate without being sentimental. Of course, he let himself down early as sensible people do. He also got up early and made sensible things.
When he had gone to bed, I looked at his bag. It contains a scientific article on behavioral analysis, a knitting and a collection of scientific articles criticizing astrology, pseudoscience and parapsychology. There is a bookmark in an article describing a large case study of the relationship between different planets and human character traits. I read the first sentences on the page.
“Despite these baffling features, and despite the small effect sizes, these results obtained by Gauquelin remain the best factual evidence for astrology that has emerged to date. “Both those who are and against astrology (in the broadest sense) as a serious field for study recognize the importance of Gauquelin's work. It is probably not too strong to say that everything hangs on it. "
I'll ask if I can get this book. Maybe I'll get rid of my hang-up on astrology.
I mention it with the book to C.
- Have you messed up my bag, he says shocked.
-No, I just looked at the book because it was on top. (I had a mess in his bag.)
I ask: Why do you have it with you?
-Hm, good question, I wanted to read something that had nothing to do with the job, it contains critical articles on different pseudoscience. Astrology is basically slaughtered, except one of the articles. (He thinks the one I was looking at, where they have found a connection between the location of March and the sporting performance.)
- Can I get that book? I say I need it, it's perfect.
- No, no, but you can borrow it if you send it to me in the mail, or maybe you can keep it, by the way, I want to read it myself, but yes, you can borrow it.
I learn that a famous criminal was seen the day before in the pub, with a new electric bike. It's probably not his bike because the guy who can't afford anything other than heroin, she says I'm talking to. My description of the bike lover fits perfectly. He has big head, potato nose and wide shoulders. I hear he played American football once in a while. He is certainly erratic and can be violent. It was not a good idea to confront him on the street. I call the police and report the observation. They will look for him, they say.
- Now I have called the police, I say. He will probably hear it, she says, who comes with the tip, he should hear that he has stolen the bike from the wrong person! It feels a bit like revenge. He may get a guilty conscience.
I've talked to a counselor, or psychologist. I do not know what qualifications he has, not very high it seems. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, why I didn't. He said I was attractive, wondering if I was using peaks and whether I was lying with guys. He seemed disturbingly interested in the topic. I said I had an offer to talk to someone who had an office in the same building as me, so I would go to her next time. He was a little surprised and said it was just to come back if I want to talk more.
Tonight, I was part of a participatory performance. We got tea and talked together. As I crept into the carpet front they had made the conversation about the new moon's effect on menstruation. It is common for women to menstruate at new moon.
We switched to lying on the floor with our eyes closed while we touched each other. I tried to touch the others in a loving and healing way. I pulled a woman in the earlobes, that's something my ex likes. I massaged the head of A, the knees of B, the shoulders of another. I pressed B on the hips and on some of their toes and regretted the moment because they had damp socks. It was very cozy, and when it was my turn I was ironed on my arms, feet, head, hands. Someone pressed me repeatedly with a single finger. Some had very hot hands. Mine was just cold. After the previous spiritual workshop, this was not very intense. One of the participants said he didn't like being caught at all.
We circled around the carpet door they had built with their eyes closed. It creates a state of its own, to do things with the eyes closed. I note it behind the ear. I can use it as an effect once. Each of us chose a text that hung on the carpet front without looking. We put my finger over the paper and stopped on a word. I stopped for free. It was a positive word, freedom from worries. L's finger stopped on the future. Another person on Yeah Yeah Yeah. I looked for personal meaning as usual in the words we had found, but I don't necessarily think the others did. Some like coincidences.
The counselor in my own building turned out to be much better than the cunning old man at the student counseling. She's just an office lady really. They would change the position of the two, I feel much better.
-You worry a lot. Concerns take lots of energy.
It was new moon last night, and just as in the theory of the artists, I got the people.
I've found a ladybug in a bag of lettuce, I call her Froot. There is a lot of company in her despite being so small. Currently, she only lives by honey and her hind legs are damaged. She gets away from the snail's pace. I hold her hand and imagine her back legs working again.
I've got tiny tinnitus, and I've become stiff in my neck. It's probably because I've slept a little less than usual and been more active. Today I met a performance artist, J. She talked about a project she had had where she talked to people about their life. J has no documentation of the individual meetings, as the premise of openness was that they met under four eyes. There had been a queue of people to meet her. J is good at talking to people under four eyes, she is like a psychologist.
Dream: I find a big tongue lying in the woods. It is from a moose and is still alive.
In a conversation with my ex-boyfriend, L, it appears that he is hurting in an arm, so I ask if I can practice him. He promises to send me a note on how he experiences the healing.
After a little patience, I manage to put myself in a meditative state, but I do not achieve the deepest state. I get the impression that L's arm forces him to take a break and that a close friend is not always so responsive so L needs to get him a little distant.
Over the phone, I ask L how it goes with the arm.
- Have you healed?
-Yes, I did the same night we talked. Did you know anything?
-Yes, it got much better in a couple of days. I could use my arm without it hurting, but then it came back again today.
My pet, the little ladybug that I have hidden with, has become much fresher. In the beginning she almost couldn't manage to go. Now she has adapted to her handicap and climbs with the four legs that still work, without falling down. She never gave up. She is my inspiration. She also has sensible circadian rhythms and is hard to wake up at night. She is an A-ladybird. I post videos of her on Instagram all the time. Everyone digs Froot.
It is Easter and it fits nicely with an evening, and the evening ends in a night game. I challenge the others to put on music that they really like, and they think no one else in the room likes. If the others dislike it, you get points. Suddenly someone decides that we should put on songs that we have been crying for and we will be sitting there listening for a while. It was a great experience.
Froot is gone. I hope she has flown out the porch, but I've never seen her fly longer than ten centimeters. I look everywhere, but all I find is a house fly. When I ask the fly where Froot is easing it and flying in a small circle. It may mean that she is around, I think. Hopefully she has found her way out. I get very sad when I think she might be somewhere and starving.
It's nice weather, but I feel sad and overwhelmed by everything that needs to be done. I feel depressed.
-He L, how's your arm?
- It's going crazy.
Apart from the bad news from L, the day has been especially nice because I have been concentrated and focused. I have followed an advice on how to utilize brain energy in the morning. Research shows that the brain produces energy waves that can be detected by scanning the brain, including alpha, beta and theta waves. I try to recognize and control the different states of mind. I am used to meditation and the consciousness it evokes, and after reading more about brainwaves, I think it is right with my experience.
I have an introvert day, but I'm usually extroverted.
-How are you?
- I have met five people who have asked the same today! What's with me? Do I look sick?
- No, you just look a little scared.
Today we start installing the art exhibition, and I have been very nervous about this for many weeks. Fortunately, I hit no strict people. In the art environment there are almost no scary people. Today it is especially nice.
- Hey, how are you doing?
-It goes well, there's a lot to do.
-No, but this will be fine.
-Yes I hope so.
-It will be exciting to see how it will go
I meditate a long time and am much more focused than before. I know that the brain shifts between a half way dreamy and awake state and back again. Images and voices appear. I see stacks of clean dinner plates, clothes napkins like the board in the form of fleur-de-lis, cutlery, an elongated hall with a long table. I see an animal, a reef with pointed snout, a gray polar reef, the snout is extra point. The reef comes as I think of a professor, M, whom I spoke to the day before. Is it his totem animal? I don't care much about totem animals, but I have a girlfriend who is a big fan of the concept. M is a wilderness lighthouse, maybe I'll mention it to him?
I also see a person dancing in a white big room with a flock of wasps. It's detailed, like a movie, and I can sit watching her for a while without the picture disappearing. I can't remember having experienced during meditation before, only in a half-awake state of the morning.
I google reef pictures, and find out that the fox I saw corresponds to what is called mountain fox. I'm in doubt but eventually end up sending a text message to M. I have meditated and found that you have mountain fox as totem animals, I write and worry about being considered naive.
I continue with the installation of my healing room, but I am unable to speed up. Before, I could gas on and be good, but now I am distracted by the mobile, mailing and especially chatting. I remember using it to think: they are standing there talking and time goes by and they are not getting a shit. Now it's me who is like that.
I work all day with the exhibition this day as well, and when I ride home, three ends flying so low next to me that the first thing I notice is a swing sound. They land as before me and I rock against me while they are happy. There is a girlfriend and a third wheel on the cart.
I sleep very well now.
This day I work all day with the exhibition. I really get the things moving. In the evening I take a long bath.
-Thank you for the message, I like mountains as totem animals
- It was good you liked to hear it
-Yes, it was fun, what do you have for animals then?
- I'm not an animal person really
-Are you not an animal person?
Some ends appear.
- Look, there is geese, I say like an idiot.
- It's not geese
-No, I meant and! It may be the same as I just met. They landed near me and rocked by.
-And is your totem animal!