What it Means to Write from the Body
"I wake up to the gentle sway of my own breath. A breeze blowing with a consistent rhythm, filling my chest, my belly. There is a silence around me, aligned with the silence within me. If I have been dreaming, some faint scenes begin to intermingle with this silence, wordlessly. The night is giving way to the morning, my dreams are giving way to tangible voices on the street. I am aware of something deeper than feeling, bigger than the darkness of the room I am sitting in. " "Let there be no continuity. I feel mad with an aged rage. A surge of bile I can't quite describe. I wish I were sitting with tea in a neighbourhood cafe, but here I am looking at myself with a bit of pity. The anger knocks wildly against the back of my chest. It feels like the outback that hasn't had rain in a while. Moisture is clearly missing. I feel like a long cry." With these two examples, I shall spring into the topic of writing from the body. It certainly is a prelu...