I’ve been on & off the road, from New York City to Oaxaca, MX, & haven’t been consistent with social media / updating this site. My relationship with publishing has become rocky. I jumped awkwardly into this world in high school, & let the audience get into my head, craving affection & attention to compensate for spaces in my life that felt tight like a lower-back jammed into lifting weights unsafe to lift. I ceased seeking shows, would only perform when solicited or when on the road & needing $$ to get wherever going was headed.
I’ve been living at the Osage Arts Community, near St. Louis, in residency for their writing program, & have had more time to experiment. Routine has less emergencies, & posting scribbles & scrapes has felt more appealing.
Even if gone from social media, the relationship seems to hold the same when returning. Walking frozen sidewalks last night, talking to myself, engaging this erratically fast-paced headspace a lil more physical, I interrogated “self-obsession” & “fear of community” (relationships w. audience, judgment, etc). Asking,
When were these habits learned?
- How do these processes/habits service me?
- How do they no longer service where you want to be?
- What are the cues that instigate cravings for validation/stimulation (images : think cigarettes, rigid performance, need 4 control, etc)?
Slowly expanding on these questions, trying to make dissection a game that doesn’t dismiss physical experience, or invalidate play. To make growth fun. Irony’s twisted humor taking a bite out of, “Didn’t know I’d keep writing sober. Didn’t know I’d keep writing without cigarettes. Why are there no images readily accessible to paint projections of 20 years from now? 40? How to grow thru self-obsessed identity structures (often re-enforced via romanticization from Others), & make more space for all these joints popping to breathe?”
Digging burials in picaresque crime novels & ceremonial mornings mourning the IR-gratification disassociated-nirvanas-compressed-into-lil-blue-pills offered as skin’s shed, burned, & new masks are made ☄️ 🖤