Authentic Movements in Cappadocia (Turkey)

(Picture taken from a hot air balloon above Cappadocia:)

by Viktor Raykin, NYC, NY

It’s two months later and I still can’t wrap my head around Cappadocia. Had I gone there as a tourist, it would be a rich memory of land created by some extremist landscaper, land whose cultural heritage dates back to 14 century BC. I’d be happy to tell you about the underground cities (some 20+ floors down into earth), surrealistic “fairy chimneys”, phallic rock formations. About livable caves (my pension room was made in a cave). About early Christian churches carved out in the rock faces. And about the hot air balloons seen out of my window in the mornings.

But I came to Cappadocia not just as a tourist – I came to join the AM group there, and doing the Movements every day has transformed Cappadocia into my personal dreamscape. This is the only way I can now think about the land. And I dream on as I try to recollect the experience.

During the 7 days of the workshop (the group came from Russia, and the workshop was facilitated by A. Girshon), I had a chance to Move in the open spaces and inside a cave, on the elevated and sunken grounds, near the fruit trees and on the barren rocks. Each place has affected the Authentic Movement process by creating a unique circumstance, by projecting the outer space (or lack of it) inside me.

I invite you to look at the photos below. For a closure, here is a memory of the last Movement I did in Cappadocia. It’s just an episode.

……………………..

… I am standing straight, my arms are hanging, and I am screwing my feet into the sandy gravel - deeper and deeper… Here is my root, I grow from this ground, and I belong here. My feet get strength from the soil. My ankles are being moulded; my calves get their shape and body, and go up into my thighs and hips. There is no upper body yet, and I patiently wait until it is given. It seems to be lowered from above and set precisely on my hips. Here I stand – the eternal sculpture.

I bend and squat and grab handfuls of the gravel, then stand up again and start to squeeze the gravel in the hands. I crash it and crackle; and I listen. The sound fills my whole body. The Ocean rustles and rumbles. My body is listening.

I start pouring the gravel over my head – left hand, then right. I get covered, I get buried. I am buried in timeless. Eternity has me.

I pour the gravel over my head again and again.
…………………….

Photos – to view the slideshow of the whole album (which is missing 3 pictures below) click here.


“Fairy chimneys” and Rock waves in Gereme valley:

© 2009 Viktor Raykin

Fabulous photos and wonderful images in your words. Thanks so much for the post. The pictures can be clicked on to be seen larger. The photo slide show can be slowed downed and paused with buttons on the lower left hand side of the slide show. I hope people take the time to look at these beautiful images.

Elizabeth

Sunday, December 20, 2009 8:37:00 PM EST