One must exile oneself from one’s home. The exile is the quintessential 20th century figure. And likely, even more, in the 21st. Sam Shepard wrote from a kind of exile, anyway. An exile from home and from self. But home is indelible. Home and space and memory. Sam’s America, which is really the same one I remember from my youth, is gone now. And that quality of lostness permeated Shepard’s work.
-- John Steppling