Photographs taken at a spiritual convention are combined with those taken at a breakfast table. The images are accompanied by short stories, texts, which describe the collision of spiritual experience with everyday incidents.
It is amazing how neatly twelve women can leave their shoes and coats in a lobby, which measures only one square meter. It is a careful act of balance to spread the weight of twelve coats so that they hang carousel-like from a flimsy hat stand. The yoga room has been rented from the nursery. It is filled with children’s drawings. The nursery has rented the room from the Methodist church and high up hang prints of Victorian Bible scenes. The smell of Joss sticks blends with the smells of play-dough and incense.
Within the class we are working on visualization techniques for meditation. With the out breath we are breathing away the clouds, which fill a blue sky, we’re aiming just for blue. Suddenly there is a huge crash. The rhythm of feet pelting up the stairway -we don’t stop, we pull the curtain across more firmly and keep going.
An hour and three quarters later, Jean is the first to leave the yoga room. As she opens the door it looks as if the entire contents of the lobby have been shaken up and then smashed down onto the floor.