Tim remembers dancing in 1976 or 77 and breaking the lamp in his parents room and he says he must have been pogoing.
In social situations Tim rarely dances and it feels awkward when he does, but when he works with language he finds he can move more, because he's thinking of something else.
He says people are in another story when they dance, in that more private place and you're not being told anything or sold anything.
He says there's something elemental about the pleasure of paying attention to a movement, that makes you feel extraordinarily more like yourself; the way you might run your hand down the stairs or tap your fingers on the bus shelter, and the movements have no social place but they are elementally you.
(to the tune of 'Walking In The Rain' by Grace Jones)