Anne Jones has spent far too much of her life, foolishly struggling to make sense of the contradictions of living as a human being on earth. The puzzlement she experienced as a child in relation to the academic dryness she was expected to adopt towards the immediate vibrancy of all things living, forced her into the world of the theater, the falseness of which in turn, soon forced her back on herself in a way which plunged her deep into the abyssal depths of the human psyche, as she left the stage and dived into the reality of relationships based on human weaknesses of all kinds. This led her back into her passion for writing, allowing her to transcribe her experiences into a two hour one person performance piece called “Alive and Desperate” which led her back to the stage and into the worlds of Buddhism and Anthroposophy. These two philosophies supported her belief in the sovereignty of the human spirit in relationship to the material realm. Out of the study of these two philosophies, a new respect was born for the world of the intellect and she returned to university, where a whole new struggle evolved: one in which her thirst for learning was thwarted and narrowed by the dictates of a depleting assessment based system. Having worked her way through a Masters of Creative Writing, she has returned to a state of sanity she first experienced as a child, where she was empty of all expectations and in this empty state, finally she is now able to relax with a sense that she and everything around her is enough, as is, while relentlessly, she continues in her exploration of ways in which to convey the balance between the spiritual and the material, the active and the idle, the need for improvisational play along with the need for disciplined rigour.
- "the system will continue, a lopsided square, a game of cutting and pasting which calls upon the child to lead forth."
- "the function of a function subtly de-forms, fizzing in my setting blood as I remember all these failures."
- "being taught something of the briers and thickets of unexplored anticipation sets us drifting and allows us to climb, precisely de-forming the patterns."
- "the uncensored right to question stings my tracks, burrowing its flow in the day’s drifting functions not idle, not fizzing but carefree."
- "golden ink-stains grasp at empty narrow routes, proud of this interior blemish large enough to sink an island."
- "a back-to-front play stings our heat-wobbled shadows, puffing up our sense of the function."
- "self-enclosed designs mistake some forward-looking blast, littering its interior, echoing and kissing the rules."
- "simply skipping every moment to accord and match-up means a playtime not distant, not puffed up but here."
- "long-held customs and traditions, normal and ordinary, daily and de-forming, begin to sag with the weight of our play."
- "this ongoing wrestle between air and breathing matter echoes whirls of appetite and laughing which support the welfare of the whole."