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Isn’t looking wanting? The performer dancing for a haphazard crowd wants to be looked at; she wants to be seen by this crowd but in her head is the perfect crowd, a succession of them, each one larger and more hungry than the last to see her. But now the performer sees the crowd not looking at her and so sings harder and looks over their heads, aiming her sharp smile. Still no one looks.
Looking is 99.9% of the time waiting for gaps and cracks. The performer hasn’t seen the man with difficulties who has started dancing in front of the stage. She is looking at the domed ceiling where helium filled balloons are trying to get away. She sees how some clever algae is colourfully eating window plastic. She surreptitiously looks at her watch as she does a movement. She looks at men in the wings as she spins; they look darkly, like devils.
She looks at the timeline in her head and judges her position on it. She looks at me and sees looking, but it was a chance glance directly into her eyes. It was a look devoid of meaning. But she has turned it into food.
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