In the beginning of each new week we publish a story about the week that just passed at the LungA School. It is written from the inside and can be about anything. That’s all. This is the fifth chapter:
I wake up and lift the curtain a bit to look out the window. Outside it is just as dark as when I went to sleep. I wonder if I woke up to early and look at my telephone to see what time it is. 06.30 – just like every other morning.
So I drag on some clothes, put my blue swimming trunks inside my white towel, throw it over my shoulder and walk to the swimming hall surrounded by the heavy darkness.
Inside, the bright blue colour from the bottom of the swimming pool lights everything up and when I break the surface of the water I forget that it is still dark outside.
But the instant I leave the swimming hall an hour later, I am once again reminded of the time of the day. It is morning, it is cold and it is still dark.
– And it will stay dark and only get darker, while I am here, I say to myself as I walk back to eat breakfast with the smell of chlorine on my skin.
In the candle-lit kitchen people slowly starts to show up as the hand of the clock passes the number 8. Suddenly the room is full of more than 20 people. That’s about one third more from the usual number of people at the school’s breakfast tables. But we have extra company this week. Besides three workshop holders we also have five students and one teacher from the Danish Folk High School Krabbesholm living and working with us.
For a moment I step inside my own head. From there I look around the kitchen, where people are sitting, eating, talking and drinking. I start to think about how much the energy and the synergy in a group of people can change, when someone new is added to the group. Of course the level of sound increases as more voices are added to the mix, and the amount of activities going on is naturally also getting bigger as there are more brains to think and more hands to lift.
But people’s position and role within the group also change. Some people start to talk to new people, and take a break from the old ones. Some people move around in the imaginary hierarchy, some talk more at gatherings and some talk less than they usually do. Some disappear into a shadow, others start shining with a new glow. Maybe the reason is just as simple as the fact that some like a lot of people and some really don’t. No matter what, everything changes.
Then I come to think of how cut off from everything we are out here, how far we have moved away from the rest of the world in just five weeks. And how that world suddenly comes thundering like a tidal wave, when someone from the outside enters into the bubble we have created in this little town. It is a tidal wave that will leave everything in a different condition, when it pulls back and disappears after the week is over and the amount of people at the LungA School again is back at normal.
But these guests have brought something with them from the outside. Something that is slowly saying farewell for a period here below the mountains, I think and look out the window, where the morning darkness has disappeared for now.
They brought the light.
Two of the workshop holders have brought it with them from London and is using it in a workshop called ‘Glowing Bodies’. And the timing could not be better as the days are crumbling and vanishing with a only more rapid pace.
They have brought materials that can mirror light, reflect light and project light and with them they are going to design and create costumes that can play together with different sources of light in performances at their exhibition. It is on Friday.
And we get to Friday.
I sit in the dark and suddenly a sharp light is turned on and someone is lying inside a plastic bag and is projected up on a big white screen. Then someone inside the bag starts to move, and slowly she escapes the plastic bag like a foetus escapes it’s mother and this whole conception is projected as shadows on that big white, bright screen.
The foetus disappears and a recorded story of a guy who hung himself is coming out the speakers. The story ends and then a new shadow in a self-made costume is dancing slowly inside a big, orange circle of warm light.
After more sound and vision we all get up from our seats and walk outside, where we can ascertain that the darkness has return. In that darkness I see a silver mushroom. When I direct the light of my torch towards it, it starts to glow. Then it starts to move, dangling slowly from side to side.
I stand there in the darkness and look at this silver mushroom swaying by the water and I smile over the crazy scenario and I get proud and puzzled by how much these students can create, how brave these young humans are and how far they can go in only five days.
And while still smiling, I remind myself that no matter how dark it is, there is always a light, and it never goes out. You just have to use your torch to find it.