• Ramia Beladel

"Waiting for Godot to bless me"

My response, Moulay Idriss Zahroun, Fez region, 2014


A blind side, a white paper, lots of tree dots, lots of exclamations and questions as well, hard to put a point after a sentence, harder to put one sentence is one meaning ,different elements , different connotations , deferent spirits , different vibes, different body languages, different songs ,lyrics ,tunes, variety seems to be not enough to reach the exuberance. I was a white paper, a blind side, a closed mind for these open gates of questions, ready but not steady to start the stage of contemplations and maybe the speculations, LILA after LILA ,I keep watching women well dressed to get out their inner demons, the need of doing my performance become stronger and stronger, I have demons a lots of them I can be well dressed, I can invent my own ritual, I can get in trance , I believe to what I m doing, I believe in art, I believe in my body, and I m aware of the spirit that I belongs to, I can do my own LILA.......... Thursday morning getting prepared for my performance my “LILA”( usual name for the trancing nights in these ritual), well dressed(pink Tkchita),my make up on, my offerings ready : white balloons and white trade attached to white small stones; my white chair a green yard near to the grave yard, the spirit is present ,I m in the presence of absence ,not steady but ready ,ready to blow the balloons, ready to put some pieces out of me, ready to put my  breath outside my body and inside the balloons body ,ready the do the sacrifice. Ready to seed a breath of life in other land, not steady, I was digging to seed the balloons at the yard in front of me, checking body, goosebumps, I was into the groove of my breath, exhausted to inflate the balloons, I feel my trance coming, I was away from my breath ,my body, my closed mind, I start to cry involuntary, I wasn’t capable of stopping myself, lost my own control, I was away from me....... After finishing the performance, I was no more a blind side or a white paper, I was at the same stage of belief with those woman that I saw with a “ suspicious air” trancing before ,I believe in my art and they believe in their ritual. At this journey I was in perpetual state of change, changing weather, changing thoughts, perspectives, riding, interpretations, the variety seems to be not enough to reach the exuberance of these “inner practices”............



My offerings


My sacrifice


My trance




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