Inner celestial mapping for soft bodies

Text by Johanne Skovbo Lasgaard based on conversations between Johanne Skovbo Lasgaard and Louise Sparre
Translation: George Garbutt
Mix and production: Susanne Højbjerg Nielsen.

You have chosen to take time for yourself.

Sit or lie down in a position where you feel the most comfortable.

Close your eyes and let your hands fall to their natural resting place.

You are invited on a journey into your own infinite self.

Stretch your fingers, clench them, and release them again a couple of times,

pushing with each gesture the weight of the day away from your hands.

Release the day from your palms,

like sparklers, exhausting the last bursts of tension as your hands open.

Let the tension burn itself out.

Breathe. Acknowledge how you feel.
Notice those places on your body, where you feel the most tension.

Breathe in through those places.

Be attentive to where your body needs you.

Allow your inner gaze to dive down into your cells, meet them.

Now, dive deeper into your atoms.

You are now floating effortlessly, in your own internal galaxy.

You are floating amongst your own internal expanse of planets and stars.

As if to look deep into the night’s sky.

You feel the hidden echo, a warm vibration, the memory,

of when the universe first silently exploded into existence.

Acknowledge your kinship with the stars.

Acknowledge that your cells were forged in distant suns.

Your closed eyes are a mirror between two parallel universes.

Word and word.

Sign and sign.

Eye and eye.

Leaf and leaf.

A leaf falls,
a lip falls,

an egg falls,

a heart falls,

down and down.

You find yourself in the middle of a darkness that tastes of wood and wood.

Of water and water.

Of silver and silver.

The darkness is called night.

The night, has no name

Like the pine needles

The darkness is known by its shades of metal, its rhythm.

The fear of a soft body,

Like trying to find your way in the darkness.

As the reluctance to paint a rose.

You pluck its petals

and paint your lips with the juices of those petals

And you press them against your cheek

A flower, that radiates outwards

with an ambiguous boundary,

like the shadow in the space above your cheekbone,
it creates a depth, inwards.

The night in your face, is a map.

Your breath is an echo.

Like a flashing eye in the night

The smell of Cedar searches inwards

Inward, Noble Fir, Inward, Spruce.

You look up at the sky.

You are Sirius towards the South in January.

Inward, Venus in the morning sky to the East.

Inward, Mars to the South-West at twilight.

Inward, Mercury low on the horizon to the West at dusk.

Inward, each coincidence forms a pattern.

You are the heavy ether of the night.

You are lips and lips in layers.

You are white teeth in the mirror of insomnia,

Your palms remember the past and the future.

You are the darkness, diminished by the darkness.

You are the flowing blood, flowing down,

In a moment, a bell will ring

It will slowly pull you back to the surface.

You are the elderflower at dawn.

You are a fog rising to your skin

When you're ready, slowly begin to move your body

Allow yourself to yawn or stretch if you need.

When you are ready, you can open your eyes.