Performers, get fed
Return to the fountain of your youth
Lest you continually drink from an empty well
and sing and speak with a mouth so dry
it spurts out dust and fly
instead of living waters.
Sit in the stands, in the pews
Be one with the audience, the congregation
Remember what drew you to the altar, the stage
in the first place.
We must be born again daily
or die slowly,
turning not into an aging beauty
but a skipping vinyl
playing the same song again and again
til people cup their hands over their ears
and either throw you out the window
or simply walk away.
My wife and I were watching a documentary on a burlesque troupe the other day.
I loved, as the narrative unfolded, the reoccuring themes that began to appear.
They spoke of freedom, of expression, of overpowering the shame hurled upon us by the powers that be.
We all have a unique gift to share with the world. Though we are always tempted to conform, even in art, to express ourselves only in ways we think we ought to act, think, and behave.
But there is richness to be found in self-discovery, a heavenly wink found as we uncover who we really are (and who we are not).
We think if we give the audience what they want, they will be happy; but they will be happier still if we give them what is true.
IF we are alive and engaged, it frees the audience up to do the same.
You can talk with a high mind til you’re blue in the face
but it’s not until you get down and dirty and really start preaching
from the gut, that you’re actually gonna start making a different,
start becoming engaged,
really lighting spark in the heart, the fire in the seat of the pants
that we all want.
stand in front of me
scream in my face
spray me with glitter
take me out of my comfort zone
let’s party together in the face
of our suffering
it’s catharsis as it’s finest
the splendid chance to breathe