We Play Where the Ground Disappears

Spontaneous Choreography-a performance by the sea with performance artist Kana Kitty, Iceland, 2017

We Play Where the Ground Disappears

There is no cushion here. No soft landing, no net stretched out beneath. To step forward is always to risk falling. To remain still is not an option.

Every work begins this way: with the ground uncertain, with the possibility of collapse woven into the act itself. Nothing can be repeated, because repetition belongs to comfort. Comfort is a privilege I do not possess. Each piece must invent its own path, as if it were the first and the last.

This necessity has its weight, but it also has its gift. Without safety, risk becomes freedom. Without certainty, play becomes survival. The act of making is no longer about securing a place, but about keeping alive a motion that cannot stop.

The work survives by beginning again and again. A drum re-skinned with x-rays, a vessel allowed to fall apart, a boot filled with cactus and orchid, a map stitched from fragments of lived experience—all emerge as answers to the same condition: the need to continue when continuation itself is never promised.

There is no final arrival. No stable ground. What exists is a rhythm: break, invent, repair, reimagine. The materials carry this rhythm—fragile paper, brittle clay, transparent gauze, the weight of rotan, the echo of a kompang, the reflection of a mirror. Each holds the memory of collapse and the possibility of renewal.

It is like a map with no borders, no names—only the line of a journey holding its pace. Not geography but rhythm. Not territory but survival.

This is not a luxury. Luxury belongs to those who can pause, repeat, or circle safely inside familiar forms. Here, every gesture is a leap into the unknown. Here, invention is not decoration—it is breath.

And so the practice moves, unfinished, restless, refusing the comfort of permanence. It does not seek safety. It seeks only the space to play where the ground disappears, to find freedom in the risk that others might fear, and to keep beginning, always beginning.

We play where the ground disappears.