We Will Dance With Mountains - Let Us Make Sanctuary
T H E B A K H I T A P R O J E C T
This page is for participants of The Bakhita Project only.
FINAL CALL TO DEBRIEF PHASE 2 AND CLOSE
Tuesday, 2 February
9-10:30 pm IST (your time zone here)
PHASE 1 DEBRIEF
Read the words from Owólabi Aboyade William Copeland's sharing here.
PHASE 1 (30 November-30 December)
For support with the research aspect, feel free to reach out to the Research Mentor team. Find out more about their interests and their contact info here.
For some process-related questions, email email@example.com (there are some we may be able to help with and others that are for you to figure out.)
For emotional matters related to this project, continue to rely on our Care Team: firstname.lastname@example.org
PHASE 1 ARTIFACTS
Perception, rather than Intervention
An experiment in diffracting to look beyond space and time in the AfricaMuseum in Tervuren, near Brussels connected through portals to Barcelona, Berlin, Paris and Genoa.
What if the key to rebuilding the slave ship is in the spaces in between?
The nonsensical communion with all that is akin to us
All that is
What if creativity gives us a way to communicate with the more-than-human, the ancestors, the microbiome, the birds, the wind in the trees, the intricate patterns underlying everything in the known?
What if the only way to truly rebuild/reenvisage/ride the flux wave, is to give the more-than-human a voice
It is not you or I that can magically alter reality, improve or quell injustice
Only through communion with the more-than-human can we rewrite the narrative in collaboration with the voices that have gone unheard for too long
What if the simple things, the food we gather, prepare and share, the bird song in proximity of our homes, the ancestors speaking through dappled light and ancient rhythms, is the sanctuary we yearn for. Hidden in plain sight - our lives can be overflowing with a reverence for life.
The grief rituals we know will ease our path, giving voice to the generations of displacement, oppression, violence and injustice for all living things, can materialise naturally, spurred on by a simple willingness to enter communion with the more-than-human. To be held by rich ancient threads which give us the strength to circumvent the cultural denial of the deep grief we feel for the thoughtless, greedy, decimation of life on this planet
Poem from Cris Mulvey:
From the broken basket of the earth, I rise
roaring (Nothing you can ever do can own me).
Black wind over the tumultuous ocean, I come
writhing, oozing smells of Africa, refusing
burial. Out of dirt, old moss, tattered with seed,
I come, my queer resistance riding
through the marrow of your bones,
branding your skin.
Statue of chalk. Microbial goo. Star
-ash, sparked, and sparking
I am the shape of No, the alphabet
of Descent, the lost language of Never
Again, whistling through my ribs, twisting
my skull, shrill cries of the yet-to-be
calling out to you: Listen! I can never be
undone. And you, never whole,
From Annamarie Bayley:
From Emilio Mula:
"wood, mud,and bones"
From Cheryl Hsu: