somewhere along the lines i rest between your tongues, plant dances where perfume meets

your smell of a skin of a tongue

i fall asleep

in the slip of my tongue

around your languages
  
poem #9 – the dances words thoughts tongues borrowers

Noa & Snow (a team, a time spent together, a choreographic spell, a prefatory charm), a sensation that nothing that comes out of our mouths, fingers, keyboards, mother’s tongues, languages, is ours. (Mis) Quoting Anne Boyer, Maggie Nelson, Valentina Desideri and Stefano Harney: We are tricked into thinking that reactive interiority is about the shape of the person not about the shape of the world but I think we’re visitors, who are always visiting, and who are always being visited – we are always speaking names, always being spoken by them, always working in this unnaming and renaming, maybe both in but also against the grain of how poetry bears naming as a kind of power. What the words mean is none of our business, but it is indubitably our business where the words travel. Borrowing books, dances, words, languages. Unfixing, dys-locating, dys-owning locutions, we – the borrowers – inside of a Noa & Snow timeframe, slid swords into words into libraries, (deeply) hung out together, spent time across partially and obliquely shared readings. We jumped off board, surfed sofas, texts, annotations and their arrangements as many vehicles, conveyors of senses leaving the littorals, our literal translations, leaving the ship [a pause for the word ship. The break it asks to think of a ship].
 
Owing to one another all the time (prior to and beyond the logic of financial credit and debt), borrowing words-thoughts as we are dances, re-flexing our muscle tones, our tongues, our mother’s tongues. (Mis) Quoting Mirene Arsanios: This language is not mine, I bit my tongue, it is not mine. It’s a mother’s, language says: how I love the mutual indebtedness that is not about paying one another back, but about enjoying that dependence, listening to the ghosts (our proteXtions we called them) in the paddings, quilts, of our umbrageous studies.

With Ujjwal Kanishka Utkarsh, Goda Budvytyte, Mihret Kebede, Paul Kotal, Alex Franz Zehetbauer, Alix Eynaudi along with guests Cécile Tonizzo, Paula Caspão, Quim Pujol, An Breugelmans, Joachim Hamou, Raimundas Malašauskas, Han-Gyeol Lie, Lydia McGlinchey

Alix Eynaudi dances, works, and writes between craft and chaos in a (most of the time) joyful mess. She doesn’t work alone; any event, research, invitation is an alibi to spend time with accomplices, a mesh of friendships scintillating under skins, a stirring of a full-of-wonder support. She specialises in deep hanging-out sessions.