Took myself on a cheap date. $3.25 dinner at Sweet Spring, $1.25 coffee, and open admit workshop performance at Judson Church by Movement Research. Just my style...discount inspiration. :)
Anyway...the program was 3 segments, and with each, as always, I sit there thinking "alright, what the hell is going on?" Searching for a familiar image or idea to grasp on to for the rest of the ride.
No such luck.
Nonetheless it excited me. I felt butterflies sitting there revelling in the uncertainty...again...since my recent forray into the uncertain. Which turned me out like a pitiful little girl stumbling in her mother's heels.
But also revealing was that I found myself not identifying with the subject of any particular piece, rather the state of the pieces. Their unfinished-ness.
It put a lot of myself in perspective for me. I am a workshop. Awkward at times...hesitant yet confident. Constantly thrusting myself into public forum whether I'm "ready" or not. Sometimes specifically for criticism, but most times just to share myself. And always looking and striving for connection.
Sounds exhilarating and clear in it's complexity. But all my life I think I've wanted to be done. I want to be the neat marble bust on the pedestal ppl swarm and consider because its beauty is so apparent and spoken for. Credited. Undeniable in form as a work of art.
Yes in school I was a notorious end-gainer and idk if I've ever really stopped. Only difference is I'm aware of it.
Anyway all of this to say, ironic that I have specifically chosen to pursue such an enigmatic career. Nothing's ever finished in theater and on top of that...there's no right answer!
I slowly await the demise of my mental health...at which point I really hope to be done.
Let me know how I turn out, will ya?
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