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Sisters Academy in:
DK, GL, ISL, SE

Author: Student, Sisters Performance Method - Sensuous Learning, Ryslinge Højskole, Denmark

The tide

A trail of footprints behind you. Bare feet, left and right, just as you would expect them to be in the moist sand of a winters beach. Yet you leave none beneath you, levitating in air as if it was water. Big creatures of seaweed flocks the water’s edge; tall, round, grazing. Their shapes defined continuously by ebb and flow. Heather grows, managed by the same creatures, yet these seem…

The spreading fire

It moves without line. Without time. Quietly running, expanding and transforming, spilling through space, nourished by what was there before. Fingers and tongues licking red brick and timber, man and his story. The spreading fire resists definition, resists language – an elemental force that cannot be easily bound or held. It feeds and it catches, further and further, gently breaking down old seats and structures, preparing space for recovery and…

Flame’s testimonial – Sensuous Learning School

I have done a school of being a body. More than I have ever been taught about being a human with a body in all of my school days. Now we graduate after life months. My body sense it as a lifetime indeed. How poetic expressed. Life months of a school of sensuous learning. What I have learned in this school will still be paying of life months, life years,…

There is a magic to know

There is a magic to know….available to all of us, waiting for us, longing for us, calling for us. I have, in my way known that magic, some part of it, some form of it. I have felt sensitive to it, known to appreciate it, to take it in. I have also known and carried the weight of a strange sort of amputated feeling, a deep longing that could not…

Everything I lost is inside me

I have lived in this Sisterhood for life months now. We are magnet; Drop, Flame, Weaver and me, Sad Dancer. When we met they were just images to me. Today every name has a taste, a sound, smell. I know how it feels to touch their skin, how salty their tears can be and where in their body they hide their longings. I can recognize their footsteps, their humming and…