because the personal is cultural
The Moon and Sixpence (1919), W. Somerset Maugham
“I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.”
Solaris (1961), Stanislaw Lem
“I didn’t believe for a minute that this liquid colossus, which had brought about the death of hundreds of humans within itself, with which my entire race had for decades been trying in vain to establish at least a thread of communication—that this ocean, lifting me up unwittingly like a speck of dust, could be moved by the tragedy of two human beings.”
At the Vanishing Point: A Critic Looks at Dance (1973), Marcia B. Siegel
“The rise in dance is also closely related to the dissolving of Puritanism in our society. Gradually we are getting rid of sex hangups and fear of our bodies; we’ve increased our respect for the nonverbal; nearly everyone has opened up to some form of consciousness-raising or lib or sensitivity movement. All of this has broken down the tacit resistance that many people had to dance. We know now that we need authentic human contact, however much it may disturb us or demand of us. The plastic world that we tried to make do has failed us badly, and we’re turning to what’s left of the earth. Dance, even when dressed in its richest costumes and most sophisticated techniques, never loses its connection with gut reality.”
Les Mots pour le dire (1975), Marie Cardinal
« La rencontre avec mes premiers vrais défauts me donnait une assurance que je n'avais jamais eue. Ils mettaient en valeur mes qualités que je découvrais aussi et qui m'intéressaient moins. Mes qualités ne me faisaient progresser que lorsque mes défauts les excitaient. [...] Je ressentais profondément qu'en les connaissant ils devenaient des outils utiles à ma construction. Il ne s'agissait plus de les repousser, ou de les supprimer, encore moins d'en avoir honte, mais de les maîtriser et de m'en servir, le cas échéant. Mes défauts étaient des qualités, en quelque sorte. »
A Choreographer’s Handbook (2010), Jonathan Burrows
“We are told that dance is a minority art form loved only by a few, and yet there are many of us who feel passionate about this thing.
Here is my fantasy: perhaps the number of people who like dance performances is the right number?”
Testament (2012), Vickie Gendreau
« Je suis en manque de nicotine. Je suis en manque de quiétude. Il va toujours me manquer quelque chose pour être heureuse. De temps, ultimement. »
has an MA in Film Studies and works in contemporary dance. His fiction has appeared in Headlight Anthology, Cactus Heart, and Birkensnake.