At Francis’ place (most likely a dark and moody single room), I am taking a shower when “running away from meaning–all meaning” comes to mind. What is the single, only meaning of “sens”– something that is already underfoot as an impossibility but can never be reached?
The question is meaning–the origin of all meaning and its derivation.
So we come to the question of why the taboos of incest and parricide are absolute meanings.

What we know about origin.
The word that was the beginning is “law.”
All meaning and origins of meaning come from the word “law.”
This brings us to the matter of religion and the state, and we come to the question of art and where it was first placed.
What I’m trying to say is that things are extremely simple.
But things that can be clearly said are being restrained.

I was reminded of a conversation I had with Kuniichi Uno.
We were talking about how the only thing we can do is to simply run away from all meaning.

Dance/the dancer’s work that needs to come together at the place, non-place, where not just a single meaning but an infinite number of meanings are yielded, is the work of exposing the deception of meaning being astringed to a single origin/law.

We say that dance is riskiness; that dance is only dance when it is in a risky situation. The same could be said about our lives.
Why is the Butoh other than Tatsumi Hijikata’s Butoh not talked about explicitly in regards to its similarities and differences to Hijikata?
That’s because it cannot surpass Hijikata’s riskiness.
Style and form are necessary for riskiness.
Within riskiness, the epitaph is given an infinite number of names, namings, and engravings; or in some cases, it simply ends with an addressee.

Does this not become clear when Kuniichi Uno talks about Hijikatas’s thoughts on “improvisation”?
In other words, life itself is an improvisation, and the desire to contain that improvisation.
It is a matter of conflict between life and form.

Life, transition, laziness,
anarchy, transience, brutality
humor, much meaning without meaning;
short-lived like an insect, finite,
impromptu, momentary.
We end our life of fifty years with a single “Hoh.”

Is giving these a singular form and name an act of creation, art, and heroism?
What does it mean to make a mark in history?
If both name and meaning are finite and short-lived, then anyone would plan a rebellion against nature/their mother by rising above being a part of history and obtaining an absolute name, attaining infinity. Everyone is in that radius.

And after relying on the resistance/planning and incessant participation toward this (Sartre), it is the subject who expands the fertile map of darkness and waits for the abyss to be explored in its uncharted depths.

“Life pursues form,” Hijikata said.
“Form pursues life. Style is paramount.”

For some reason, there is some confusion within me.
I want to say that I saw the life that was pursuing form in Hijikata’s “Revolution of the Body,” but it is the invention of that form that can be said to be his creation. Both you and I come under the umbrella of this form and the name “Butoh.”

To be precise, dance can be seen and not seen as the form pursuing (the becoming form) or the form escaping (the decaying form) between life and form.

(Nietzsche said that all forms are merely appearances in the sense that, with form, we say that we see the flow through it because we cannot feel the certainty of the flow. But the form must be discovered within the pursuing riskiness in this endless questioning.
The form must be discovered within the riskiness that is escape.
It is the absolute meaning that is both constitutional and general–the absolute flow!

Finally, it seems I’m getting close to the heart of the matter today. In other words, the absolute flow is something that belongs to both you and I and everyone else; it is not something that will return to the ownership of any one person.
If we think about the unnamed things and the power and will of anonymity, does not the absolute come down to the power hidden in Mother Nature and in the name of a god who has a name?

Everything that was separated.
Everything that was articulated and coded.
Then what about seasons?
Then what about areas?
The things that were born as a man, as a woman, as an infant, as disabled, as Japanese, and not as European, as a monkey or snake, as a dragon god, as a leaf or the shadows of a leaf, or as a mineral.

These things were made different named, and made finite as they carried the power to make those differences through the will within the single origin.

Infinite names, forms, and power are limited by the changing flow within the origin.
They can convert, transform, and communicate, as well as combine, bypass, detour, and invade a variety of processes with a different process; these themselves are limited and endless signposts of what exists in the process of transition.
…
Is this my one-time history?!

If everything is permitted and pardoned, then what kind of flow do those who are closed off from what is estranged, achieved, flowing by the flowing forces, live with?
Ephemera fated to be annihilated are set with resistors like paranoia and schizophrenia, but in the end, they are nothing but ephemera.

I had the idea of reading Anti-Oedipus together with Mr. Tanemura’s book.
Before that, as I was taking a shower, I came up with a few fragmented ideas for writing about dance in an easier way, but they’ve gone away.
It’s already 7:30. Time to go back to Francis’ place.

(Translated by Vinci Ting)