Potato from Material Choreographies

The funny thing about Australia, is that the gum trees still grow through the cracks in the concrete.

My Father’s father crossed the vast seas dividing Italy and Australia by boat. When he stood upon deck it was for months at a time that he would stare across the dividing liquid wastelands, crystal blue and lapping at the hull – an expanse that can sink this ship but does not sink this ship. I was raised in a family that loved me. Really, truly, madly, deliriously. So much so that I saw the far reaches of this world, long before I was near old enough to know what they meant. We boarded the ship that would carry us off the coast of Queensland, so we could cruise between the Pacific Islands, I would stand between the hot tubs, or perhaps under the wide screen TV’s, or sink into some forgotten corner of balcony space. I would look out over that same barren wasteland and think how it might be possible that we have as little means of survival at sea as we do in our hot deserts, yet we are fool enough to claim them opposites. My grandfather does not think like this. My mother and I can...

A Brief History of Me

Sometimes I go to the house at the end of the street and sit there for hours, picking at the wallpaper. It flecks off piece by piece and no one knows that I’m the reason why the house looks like that. No one believes that I could have done it. I make tears big enough to walk through. I have no need for them, but I hold them up to the light and watch them flake away from themselves. Weathering around the beams. Soon this will all be nothing but a skeletal structure. A picture of a lifetime. The finest thing you have ever seen . I draw a match to my tiny hairs. I glow in the light, for as long as I can bare it. I couldn’t tell you what’s changed. I couldn’t tell you why instinct says was, instead of is. Why I won’t be beautiful anymore when I’m all glacial and melting. When it misses me. When it comes back to me. It waits in its comfortable silence to see how I will react because it doesn’t want me to be afraid. But I am afraid. And ...

Freedom Song

Freedom Burning on my skin Wayward faces steeped in sin are escaping me Freedom Graywacke hells all sing while nestling shells all ring up against the sea Speak with me at salty sea oblivion Be with me on the borders of anguish and time Reach for me Through the thick of cries and tricks of minds in gaps in peeling plaster on prison walls Freedom While liquid silver fails and shines avid rivers walk the line between you and I Freedom I am waiting Constantly pacing anticipating and knowing of you Freedom All I ask of you In all that you do Send it through the wind Freedom Dancing in holy light Master the dream and fight Seethe and strive and divides us I believe in a stone through In places that felt in winds that know In layers of concrete that crack to give you sand How easy it is How easy I find How easy to give and lose you mind And all that I have, for a chance to understand ...

Allegra Pilati

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