When I was in college, I performed a lot of dance and theater. Movement has always been crucial to me. Mikhail Baryshnikov says: “I found that dance, music and literature is how I made sense of the world… it pushed me to think of things bigger than life’s daily routines… to think beyond what is immediate and convenient.”

Movement can also be measured in writing: tempo, leap, beats, flare, pace, etc. You can even consider setting a piece in motion (vehicle, flight, diving to the bottom of an ocean, etc), flying amongst skyscrapers.

One of my literary heroes is artist and writer David Wojnarowicz, and here is one snippet of his that is always timely, written close to his untimely death due to HIV/ AIDS:

I am a blank spot in a hectic civilization. I’m a dark smudge in the air that dissipates without notice. I feel like a window, maybe a broken window. I am a glass human. I am a glass human disappearing in rain.  I am standing among all of you waving my invisible words. I am getting so weary. I am growing tired. I am waving to you from here. I am crawling around looking for the aperture of complete and final emptiness. I am vibrating in isolation among you.  I am screaming but it comes out like pieces of clear ice. I am signaling that the volume of all this is too high. I am waving. I am waving my hands. I am disappearing. I am disappearing but not fast enough.


Melissa Goodrich’s “The Girl Who Turns To Rabbits” at The Squalorly:

Etgar Keret- Fatso at The Nimrod Flipout:

Sam Lipsyte from The Art of Fiction, No. 242 in Paris Review: “You can write things beyond your intellectual capacity. If you stay in this act of composition… and stick to the sentences, they will lead you to utterances you wouldn’t have thought of just sitting around trying to decide what to write.”