Yuka Hayashi - July/August 2025
2 Penrhiw was an amazing host. The house allowed me to breathe, listen to the distance, and honour my own time. I eat and sleep delightfully and peacefully, and I was intrigued by how the house hosted light and shadows in different ways.
While I stayed in the house, I lay on the floor a lot. I walked toward the river, toward the footpath, and toward the waterfall. And again, I lay down on the layers and layers of branches, leaves, and soil.
Stirling introduced me to the market, where I got shiny, vivid, fresh vegetables from the local farmers. Through eating, I really started to take in the village and be part of it.
Throughout the days in the residency, I made movement scores of napping, receiving, and covering, which were informed and nourished through places and times in the house and village. I danced in the house on the last night of the residency, without any electric lights on and only with fire. Having a fire in the house was something special for me; I had spent nights reading and writing by the fire, receiving the heat, watching logs burn and become ashes. As I got more familiar with fire time, I was charmed by times in nature— times of fire, sun, forest, river… and I was reminded of my time in my body.
I feel so grateful that I reunited with my springing lifeforce in the house, in the forest, in the river, in Abercych. I wish the house dreams of me… I will dream of the house.
