SLOW DANCE

SLOW DANCE

slow down,  

and listen to the land

lie down on my soft belly and feel me breathe

I am a wild, untameable woman who will not be rushed 

and if you can slow down and listen long enough

you might also gain the courage to be wild

you might hear the myriad secrets that I hold

the thousand daily miracles that I unfold

in every single cell of my magnificent body

you might dare to dance with me

your hearts beating time with the timeless heart 

of this wild and wise woman who will not be hurried or rushed

slow 

down, 

down, 

down, 

and listen, 

really listen 

to the Earth

 by Bríd Wyldearth 1999

Pictures with spoken words are followed by credits, which, in turn, are followed by pictures with written and spoken words. 

I was lying on the coastal path in Cornwall, in 1999, feeling the pulse and breath of the earth beneath me, when these words came to me. As I prepared and collected the photographs for the exhibition, "In The Footsteps Of John Piper" at the tower at Oriel y Parc, St Davids in the summer of 2013, I noticed that they seemed to go well with the words of the poem. It was at the private view of this exhibition, where I performed the poem, that Cheryl Beer envisioned this digital story. 

The photographs are all taken in West Wales, except for: the cave roof, which is in Chinoyi, Zimbabwe and is dedicated to the women of Zimbabwe; the footprints which were in a labyrinth I created and danced in the estuary at Appledore Arts Festival 2002, North Devon; and the labyrinth in the sand which was in Mounts Bay, Cornwall.

Thank you also to Rhiannon, aka Kim Prangley, for taking the photograph of Bríd cradled in roots at Avebury, Wiltshire and to Ron for helping to crop some of the photographs.

Thanks to the inspiration and practical help and expertise of my friend Cheryl Beer, as one of the most wonderful birthday gifts ever, I spent yesterday afternoon in Cheryl and Jeff's studio recording this poem in one take and watching Cheryl create this digital story form of this photographic poem. 

Strangely I feel very proud and very humble at the same time. Sometimes, when I write a poem, I look for and choose and arrange and rearrange the words. I enjoy word sculpting and am willing to take some credit for being skilled at it. Slow Dance, however, appeared in my head and on my tongue fully formed. I hope it does not spook you to read that I am convinced they are the words of Earth and only my words in the sense that I am part of Earth. I have felt, from the moment they came to me, an urge and obligation to share them as widely as possible.

The photographs are always pure chance with me. I never feel I have time to stop and manually focus my digital camera, which is always set to automatic, and I am always grateful to her and chance and the moment and place for the beautiful pictures I am given. The photograph of Chinoyi cave roof is even more of a miracle because it seemed completely dark to me. I pointed my camera upwards at a cacophony of bat screeching and stink of ammonia as a joke. When I had the film developed back in Cornwall, there wasn't a bat in sight, but this stunning cavernous cathedral that I never saw in the flesh.

Cheryl and I are both disabled artists and belong to Disability Arts Cymru and wanted to make this piece fully accessible as well as to show the pictures with no writing and spoken word voice over, which is how it was originally conceived. It seemed so appropriate to the subject matter that the experience of watching it should not be hurried and I love the happenstance that places the credits in the middle, leaving the viewer with an uncluttered, slow, final image.