Letters to the Landscape (or an Alphabet in Ruins)

This article is a crossing through the Anthropocene. Between the body and the landscape, between the past and the future, between concepts and dances, between Edouard Glissant and the Atlantic Ocean, between tremor and uncertainty, between the Forest and Monoculture, between dance and the visual arts, between poetry and concepts, between the body and philosophy, between the animal and the plant, between what I desire and what I get, between Emanuele Coccia and the butterfly, between the thousand names of Gaia, the anthropology and what remains of our planet. They are letters thrown into the sea, directed to the landscapes that inhabit me, written with pieces of images and sounds that were inside my body/computer in these last years of journey. Shared in a list, like an alphabet in ruins, a (un)alphabetical order. Each letter carries a journey in itself: a way of doing and thinking about dance, an invention of a world that is possible to imagine today.