around her chest, she ties a length of muslin, a single knot just beneath her breasts and below her left nipple. and, falling from centre, ends of cloth, like water pouring downwards in folds, to a pool that won’t ever fill. her heart worn outside, quieter than inside. ~ in october, she counted how many people she knew wished they could fly. in november, she read the wishes of other people, of strangers, whose wishes, in december, didn’t seem so strange. ~ she speaks in driftwood sentences and pulls grains of sand, like quiet commas from between her fingers.
From the author:
I am on a mission to promote the integration of poetry to the process of ‘reviewing’ or responding to dance performances. I feel that the experience of dance supercedes the judgment attached to work (ex: That was a “good” piece; I didn’t “like” that show etc …), and that reviews or responses to creative performances should focus on experience over judgment. By responding through words, creating some semblance of poetry, I feel that the ephemeral art of dance is extended into a larger “lifetime” as well as to a larger audience.
Responses to this review
I like your idea. I have done a monologue, and performed it in Vancouver, which was a stream of consciousness response of a man attending a dance performance. It won honourable mention in the Canadian National Playwright’s competition. This [see Reviews index for link to — Quest ] is a review of a dance piece I saw last week.