![]() It was built by a group of people who came together on a common quest A group of people who sat together, hour after hour, conjuring it, sketching it, speaking it into existence, listening for how it sounded, and for what it might say. It’s as though we spent some of our childhood here attending recitals, or fundraisers, or ceremonies, or pageants, or potlucks. Despite its many mysteries, Assembly Hall emerged from familiar memories. Then again, if we’d taken a different route, with a different group of people, this particular hall might never have been found. Was there a more obvious, more direct route to get here? It may have been more efficient to avoid the forest and stay on the road. A Bunch of Amateurs by Kim Hopkins.Ī small community hall used by a variety of different groups. The Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes. “Absence is the form God’s presence takes in this world.” Simone Weil The Quest to Fail, the Medieval Presence in Modernist Literature, by Jonathan Ullyot.įrom Ritual to Romance, by Jessie Weston. “The spirits that I summoned I now cannot rid myself of again.” Goethe An Unexpected Reunion, by Johann Peter Hebel. An Automated Display of Two-dimensional Figures. Although many signposts were left along the way, with headings written in bold above paragraphs of what seemed essential information at the time, the truth is, many of the paths we so eagerly blazed are now overgrown. Then Winter came and before we knew it, a year had passed.Ī quick scan through our various exchanges over the course of that year reveals something of the meandering route we took to arrive at Assembly Hall. Then Spring became Summer, and Summer, Fall. Or perhaps the story itself was secondary to that age-old human need to congregate to participate in a communal activity to be recognized and feel a sense of belonging. Were they Historians? Folklorists? Conservators? How had this story drawn them into its orbit? What was the connection? Perhaps these people needed this story as much as the story needed them. They were gathered around the remnants of an old story – a story, it seemed to us then, that they were caring for and keeping alive. ![]() Neither of us knew what the other was thinking and both had come with only the faintest inkling about what terrain we might want to explore next.īy the end of that meeting though, a group of individuals had assembled in our imagination. It was early spring, and we were meeting over coffee one bright morning for the first conversation about our next project. Sometimes these things begin with a concrete premise or proposition, but we were starting from scratch. ![]()
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