O.k so back to the more heavy duty stuff.. the thinking behind the making. I'm aware that my posts this month have been emotional and I've been really touched by friends who have made contact and asked if I'm ok. I am. 
For me, the difficult bit is when I am struggling, when I'm putting on a face to mask uncomfortable emotions whatever they might be, when I'm trying to persuade myself and other people that a situation which isn't ok is ok. Because it is hard to acknowledge a thing is wrong when you want passionately for it to be right, or other to how it is. 
And because it is hard to look truth in the eye I am loathe to belittle my negative experiences because they are not so bad as other peoples, or, because they happened a long time ago. I know I am lucky on many many levels, that my small misfortunes are counterbalanced by good fortune too. I also know that my times that have been hard have taught me much and I am thankful for those lessons learned tho' I would rather not repeat them. 
There is discomfort in exposing myself, exposing my weakness, my vulnerability, my loser-qualities. There's a voice in me saying "what a silly fuss about nothing" "stop making a fuss" "other people go through much worse and they aren't writing stupid blogs and going on about things that happened years ago and aren't important anymore" even "eeeeuw, how creepy, why are you going on about a man who dumped you years ago get over yourself he didn't want you, so what" or "why are you causing a shadow to fall on your family when the whole thing is ancient history, what a bad person you are". 
The self-criticism has some validity, but it disregards feelings in me that are not resolved. Writing out my feelings is a way to resolve feelings that were overwhelming when they were happening, too overwhelming to address or understand, by giving them light and air,  by uncovering them, I am able to find a way through, to make sense of things that, tho' long ago, are still troubling. I guess that writing them out is a form of unburdening. 
I have written about this person, that person, and so and so, who did me wrong, but how about if I turn the spotlight on myself ? Am I a saint ? Certainly not. Have I got things wrong ? Yes. So, can I bear my own flaws ? And is it fair or just or reasonable to ask of another a perfection that I am unable to offer in return ? Who can offer perfection ? What is perfection ? 
So maybe that's a starting point for a little think about unconditional love, and conditional love, and where they meet and where they part. There is an ideal in my head when I think about love, it feels like flight, unbound, expansive, free. When I have fallen in love this is how it feels, limitless. 
But  limits pretty soon begin to make themselves felt. At first they feel quite inconsequential, certainly bearable, for the brilliance, the wonder, of loving another is something too great to be thrown away casually for small misdemeanours or awkwardnesses. But after a while the conditions begin to set in for both parties. We begin to learn what is and isn't ok with the other, we begin to learn each other's needs and boundaries and if we like the other enough we bend around that other, we tailor our needs to meet that other, it's how socially co-operative people function, relationships thrive on it. We give, we take, and it all kind of balances out in the end. But what if the meeting points become too uneasy, begin to constrict, bind, tie, murder another's being. At what point is it ok to let go because the lover asks too much of the lovee.
The love I offer another can only ever be as great as the love I offer myself. When I feel dingy and drawn in, paralysed by my inadequacies, I beg my love to feed me, to give me succour because I am unable to succour myself and this tips the balance. And it works the other way too. Ideally the balance is mostly quite level, care is met by care according to circumstance and need. 
It is easier to love a place, an activity, an animal, a thing than it is to love a person, I think, because we place different expectations on them. I do not ask my favourite beach to love me back, when I take the walk from Burnham Overy Staithe along the sea wall to the point and along the beach to Holkham, and back again, I feel at one with the beach but am accepting of it as it is. I have seen it in sunshine, wind, rain and thunderstorms, even snow, I have seen it in winter, spring, summer and autumn, at every stage of my life, from baby to now, I have been there at dawn and dusk, morning and afternoon, tho' not at night.
My point is that in my person to person interactions I am more demanding, these demands are the conditions that I place on my love, and in setting those conditions I begin to cage my love. And it is likely my love is doing the same to me. What makes one relationship work, and another not ? I am not just talking about lovers, but all the variations of human contact, parent, child, sibling, friend, teacher, student, housemate. Is it the ability of the parties to meet each other, to accommodate and compromise, but how do we know when we have compromised ourselves too far, been a little too accommodating. 
I return to the point that love best thrives when there is equality. I love myself and I love you. Your behaviour does not limit or damage my wellbeing, and my behaviour does not limit or damage your wellbeing. 
But two people will not have exactly the same needs. So a mother of a newborn will mostly put her needs aside for her baby, and so it continues through childhood, if the newborn is not the first or only child another balancing act is required as the mother cares for both children's different needs, this puts strain on the all the relationships, suddenly that thread which ran from one to one, is being tugged by another whose call is just as imperative. And this is the nature of life. It is not only about one. Or one and one. 
Maintaining equilibrium between two people in a world in motion calls for attention, with adult to adult connections there's a hope that the thread between two people can be allowed to go slack and picked up without too much care. Often the test of longterm friendship is the re-meeting after months or sometimes years and the capacity to drop easily into each other's company. 
But coming back to the notion of unconditional love, what is it ? Do I love myself unconditionally ? And if not how unconditional is the love I offer and give ? Way back when I was a teenager I went to my local buddhist centre to learn meditation, heaven knows why I chose to do that, it wasn't trendy or cool, so I am guessing it was intuitive because I have used the two meditations I was taught thirty three years ago ever since. They are simple practices; one is a breathing meditation, counting, or becoming aware of, the breath as you breathe in and then as you breathe out, and then as you breathe in and out. and the other was the meta bhavana which, as I was taught then, is to first extend goodwill towards myself, then a good friend, then a not well known someone whose path crosses yours, then a person you are struggling with, and then to your close neighbours and out and out and out to all beings, all things, the meditation is limited only by the space you are able to give it. But, and here's the big but, It is surprising how hard it is to offer oneself goodwill. and the part that calls for good will towards someone who is a problem picks up on that. I would highly recommend both these meditations they really are life-savers.
Why is it so hard to love one's self, to extend goodwill towards one's self. Self love doesn't get a very good press, it is tagged to arrogance and narcissism and selfishness. But self love is also confidence, self respect and a person who values them self appropriately is generally more likely to give value and respect to others. Respect, for me, is really key to good relationships. Without respect how can I trust you. Respect is not about tight rules but about consideration, awareness, understanding my otherness, and me understanding your otherness. I guess this is a condition I put on my love. Respect protects both parties allows safe interaction. And feeling safe allows me to drop my guard, to be more free, more comfortable, happier, with another, more able to love, to give, to care. If I can be unguarded, vulnerable, with you it is likely that you mean a lot to me. 
So back to love, under conditions or not. The piece I'm making for Cley is called Love is Long Road. I've had all sorts of thoughts about what I am trying to put into the piece and only when it is standing on site will I know if I have done what I intended to do. Since having my proposal accepted last winter I have been in deep contemplation on the nature of love. What I think, is, that we all know when we are in the presence of love. We know when we meet people who love each other, there is a comfort in their company, they glow, I'm talking about lovers yes, but also families, friends, even workplaces and play-spaces. It's a feeling. I have not yet been able to articulate in words that feeling, even the word "love" is too solid to encapsulate the feeling I am sure is love in me. I love words but they are a difficult medium and I am still learning how to use them, sometimes when they fail me, or I fail them, creative play becomes a sanctuary, another way of telling stories. Sometimes those stories are for my own comfort and only a few close friends will see them. Sometimes for public display.
Public display of feelings is peculiar. It disarms both actor and witness. So thank you to all the people who have read my recent blogs, and to my closest friends and family who bear with me when I teeter on the edge of madness. Thank you for allowing me to be weird and vulnerable. Thank you for allowing me to be fragile and uneasy. Thank you for letting me make a fuss about nothing. Being seen makes a difference. Bearing witness makes a difference. Love is a long road.