Meg Stuart: notes from the field

It’s like up. It’s like reaching. It’s like reaching for the stars. It’s like galloping on a horse. It’s like bareback. It’s like touching but not quite. It’s like pulling. It’s like pulling back. It’s like falling into a river. It’s like underwater archeology. It’s like tumbling into bed with strangers. It’s like darkness. It’s like darkness that comes too early. It’s like frozen. It’s like freedom that came too late. It’s like a trance. It’s like a trace.It’s like striking a match. It’s like firing a handgun. It’s like catalytic. It’s like a burning. It’s like a socio-economic situation. It’s like territorial. It’s like under the skin. It’s like hot. It’s like foetal. It’s like an external symptom. It’s like laughing. It’s like laughing at pain. It’s like whirring. It’s like endless. It’s like spinning straw in gold. It’s like the Tokyo skyline. It’s like 3am in Amsterdam. It’s like cough.sneeze.speak.kiss. It’s like a detour. It’s like steel. It’s like the middle child. It’s like coordinates. It’s like Batman. It’s like celestial. It’s like microwave popcorn. It’s like latitude, longitude and depth. It’s like I Ching. It’s like Babylonian. It’s like soft, but not for long. It’s like snake.

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