I am a good performer.
My energy knows no relent. I take direction and notes immediately. I am available to my fellow cast mates on stage.
I am straight pro.
I arrive on time. I better my material. I communicate well. I make sure others enjoy their production process because that helps me enjoy mine.
I am a celebrity.
I am worthy of being celebrated. I celebrate often. When one knows what they have to offer, they are celebrateable too. I associate exclusively with other celebrities.
I am a good performer.
Do What You Love
Miami, FL
Miami, FL
October 31, 2006
Give Me Your Attention
Charlotte, NC
Charlotte, NC
October 26, 2006
I love being on stage.
I love being on a platform.
People give you all their attention – it’s the sheer physics of it.
Raising one on a platform makes every bit of their body visible. When one is visually exposed in totality, there is nowhere to hide.
I love live performance because it is revealing. Live performers are honest.
Give me a stage. Set me on the platform. Give me your attention and watch my vulnerability become freedom.
I love being on a platform.
People give you all their attention – it’s the sheer physics of it.
Raising one on a platform makes every bit of their body visible. When one is visually exposed in totality, there is nowhere to hide.
I love live performance because it is revealing. Live performers are honest.
Give me a stage. Set me on the platform. Give me your attention and watch my vulnerability become freedom.
Those Women
Charlotte, NC
Charlotte, NC
October 16, 2006
Every once in a while, I don't know what it is - maybe the stars line up, maybe she eats an in season Honeycrisp apple, maybe she wakes up without an alarm long after the sun has risen, and from her bed, pulls the blinds open and just lies there staring at the changing leaves in the chill sunny tree tops until she is good and ready to set her heavy and sensitive feet on the floor. Every once in a while, the conditions are perfect to manifest One Of Those Women who rule the world.
One of those women who rule the world is a legend in spirit. None who meet her forget "the light" (everyone always says those words around One Of Those Women). Her limbs are the perfect combination of athlete and Betty Boop. How do some women get so lucky? Does it feel good to live the life of someone who might be a teenager, or a bursting woman or a wise lover? She dances in front of mirrors and she frightens those who are protective, repressed and afraid. The words "I love you" float from the inside space on the top of the heart, up over the vocal chords in an airy announciation. She says "I love you" to me.
And I don't know how I fit in. And I don't know if I am pretty enough. And I don't know if I'm feminine enough. But I'm definitely not stoopid enough to let my insecurities keep me from letting her love me.
One of those women who rule the world shapeshifts in front of my eyes. One moment she is a little girl raised by strong women. One moment she is a spoiled princess. She rules the world like a black hole rules the cosmos - she brings everything to her. They all quest toward her mecca. She knows she is the Mecca. She swims through life. She is in love with the light. Her touch is soft and filled with purpose. She knows she has the power. She powerfully and purposefully touches me.
And I am afraid to be alone. And I exhausted by intimacy. And I don't even know whom I am. But I definitely won't allow my own vulnerabilities to keep her away from me.
It is almost too much for me, keeping the company of women who rule the world. We rehearse the same rituals, we discuss the same topics, we day dream the same shade of lavender and don't know why. Eventually we shed the same blood and share the same bed and when one stays courageous in the face of insecurity and vulnerability, eventually the conditions are perfect and you, too, may wake up without an alarm like one of those women.
One of those women who rule the world is a legend in spirit. None who meet her forget "the light" (everyone always says those words around One Of Those Women). Her limbs are the perfect combination of athlete and Betty Boop. How do some women get so lucky? Does it feel good to live the life of someone who might be a teenager, or a bursting woman or a wise lover? She dances in front of mirrors and she frightens those who are protective, repressed and afraid. The words "I love you" float from the inside space on the top of the heart, up over the vocal chords in an airy announciation. She says "I love you" to me.
And I don't know how I fit in. And I don't know if I am pretty enough. And I don't know if I'm feminine enough. But I'm definitely not stoopid enough to let my insecurities keep me from letting her love me.
One of those women who rule the world shapeshifts in front of my eyes. One moment she is a little girl raised by strong women. One moment she is a spoiled princess. She rules the world like a black hole rules the cosmos - she brings everything to her. They all quest toward her mecca. She knows she is the Mecca. She swims through life. She is in love with the light. Her touch is soft and filled with purpose. She knows she has the power. She powerfully and purposefully touches me.
And I am afraid to be alone. And I exhausted by intimacy. And I don't even know whom I am. But I definitely won't allow my own vulnerabilities to keep her away from me.
It is almost too much for me, keeping the company of women who rule the world. We rehearse the same rituals, we discuss the same topics, we day dream the same shade of lavender and don't know why. Eventually we shed the same blood and share the same bed and when one stays courageous in the face of insecurity and vulnerability, eventually the conditions are perfect and you, too, may wake up without an alarm like one of those women.
Ouija Says
Charlotte, NC
Charlotte, NC
October 07, 2006
Cardboard oracle. Living room mystics. Even at 12 I was pushing the envelope of spiritual sanity and otherworld provocation by requesting the forbidden information from the Ouija Board vaticinator. And between our fresh little girl hands, the glass did often slide across that prophetic landscape and two numbers did it slide to a disturbing stop over. One at a time ... 2 .... 9.
I have always had strong intuition. I just know things by feeling them and I trust that information like the soil beneath my feet. I always knew what 15 would be for me, and was psychic in humbling exactness. I knew what it was going to be like at 18, too. I knew 23. I could feel 26. But for some reason, from a very young age, I could not see past 29.
The Ouija Board is possibly the most widely used, effective diving tool today. It does not require belief nor any particular religion. All it requires is enough open mindedness, even in jest, to place your hands on the glass and listen. Eight year olds are experts. Drunken fools excel too. But no matter how adept or novice you are at the Ouija craft, everyone knows there is one unspoken question which should never be broached: When am I going to die?
So for 29 years of my life, between the decisive and notable lack of post-29 visions and the Oiuji's disturbingly taboo confirmation, I have accepted that I was not to complete my 30th rotation around the Sun. I knew I wasn't going to become ill, I knew I wasn't going to have an accident. I honestly felt that I would perish by my own hand and somehow that seemed natural - almost predetermined.
I've been bragging about it for weeks - pretending I am 30 already when people ask. Inevitably they assume a foreboding vocal tone and act like I should have arthritis and be unsatisfied or something. I wonder what awful death-fearing planet they are from because I am elated that I am no longer a threat to my own existence, but my best parent ever. I am overjoyed that my body is strong and able to do anything I request of it. M career is thrilling, rewarding and fulfilling. My karma is instant, clear and powerful. I am passionately in Love and am passionately Loved. I can't wait to live another day. I am weeping with joy that my parents' love for one another created the unlikely genetic combination of ... me ... with real working parts and extra special sauce and I get to live this amazing life, so precious, so resilient, so random, so probable.
Nineteen more hours and the stroke of midnite will reveal the truth I feel nervous now contemplating. Somehow I feel in the marrow of my bones, that my childhood intuition was accurate and that something in me this October 8th, will indeed perish before I can tally another year. Perhaps I was near sighted thinking it to be my literal form. Perhaps there is a transformation coming that will consume me, like Icarus, and leave me so transformed that I am almost unrecognizable to myself and so without a written, foreseen future, I am the real-time Ouija Board, creating each moment in every moment and starting at 30, I am truly free.
I have always had strong intuition. I just know things by feeling them and I trust that information like the soil beneath my feet. I always knew what 15 would be for me, and was psychic in humbling exactness. I knew what it was going to be like at 18, too. I knew 23. I could feel 26. But for some reason, from a very young age, I could not see past 29.
The Ouija Board is possibly the most widely used, effective diving tool today. It does not require belief nor any particular religion. All it requires is enough open mindedness, even in jest, to place your hands on the glass and listen. Eight year olds are experts. Drunken fools excel too. But no matter how adept or novice you are at the Ouija craft, everyone knows there is one unspoken question which should never be broached: When am I going to die?
So for 29 years of my life, between the decisive and notable lack of post-29 visions and the Oiuji's disturbingly taboo confirmation, I have accepted that I was not to complete my 30th rotation around the Sun. I knew I wasn't going to become ill, I knew I wasn't going to have an accident. I honestly felt that I would perish by my own hand and somehow that seemed natural - almost predetermined.
I've been bragging about it for weeks - pretending I am 30 already when people ask. Inevitably they assume a foreboding vocal tone and act like I should have arthritis and be unsatisfied or something. I wonder what awful death-fearing planet they are from because I am elated that I am no longer a threat to my own existence, but my best parent ever. I am overjoyed that my body is strong and able to do anything I request of it. M career is thrilling, rewarding and fulfilling. My karma is instant, clear and powerful. I am passionately in Love and am passionately Loved. I can't wait to live another day. I am weeping with joy that my parents' love for one another created the unlikely genetic combination of ... me ... with real working parts and extra special sauce and I get to live this amazing life, so precious, so resilient, so random, so probable.
Nineteen more hours and the stroke of midnite will reveal the truth I feel nervous now contemplating. Somehow I feel in the marrow of my bones, that my childhood intuition was accurate and that something in me this October 8th, will indeed perish before I can tally another year. Perhaps I was near sighted thinking it to be my literal form. Perhaps there is a transformation coming that will consume me, like Icarus, and leave me so transformed that I am almost unrecognizable to myself and so without a written, foreseen future, I am the real-time Ouija Board, creating each moment in every moment and starting at 30, I am truly free.
Bulls Eye
Charlotte, NC
Charlotte, NC
October 06, 2006
I'm in North Carolina and it's a full moon.
I decide to throw knives in the dark.
I am living in a cabin in the woods and I hear crickets at nite. The occasional train with industrial wind chimes forging ahead moving away somewhere in the distance.
There are three log rounds and several chewed up one-by-sixes drilled and stacked together and as far as I knew previously, actually sticking a knife in the log round constitutes success.
It is silly to practice throwing in the dark. I can not see eight feet in front of me. It is silly, but it is forgiving, for "how could I possibly expect to hit my target consistently in this light?" So I'm throwing at something I can't see and just feeling the steel blade roll, roll, roll off my finger. Listening to a heavy blade in wood thunk stick. Ah sweet success with gentle autumn wine - a shiraz - I think they call it petit because they use little grapes. Not to be confused with scrawny grapes. Robust, powerful, little knife throwing grapes.
So I'm sipping wine all alone in a rocking chair feeling my fingers gingerly inebriated from only a half glass of wine. The reality of being this clean and healthy.
I'm in North Carolina and I'm feeling very good about life and performance and health and love. I feel open and supported and invited and celebrated. I'm celebrating the feel of the tip. The sharp point as it rolls off my finger thunk right where I intended it to thunk.
By the full moon light, I thunk I finally know how to aim.
I decide to throw knives in the dark.
I am living in a cabin in the woods and I hear crickets at nite. The occasional train with industrial wind chimes forging ahead moving away somewhere in the distance.
There are three log rounds and several chewed up one-by-sixes drilled and stacked together and as far as I knew previously, actually sticking a knife in the log round constitutes success.
It is silly to practice throwing in the dark. I can not see eight feet in front of me. It is silly, but it is forgiving, for "how could I possibly expect to hit my target consistently in this light?" So I'm throwing at something I can't see and just feeling the steel blade roll, roll, roll off my finger. Listening to a heavy blade in wood thunk stick. Ah sweet success with gentle autumn wine - a shiraz - I think they call it petit because they use little grapes. Not to be confused with scrawny grapes. Robust, powerful, little knife throwing grapes.
So I'm sipping wine all alone in a rocking chair feeling my fingers gingerly inebriated from only a half glass of wine. The reality of being this clean and healthy.
I'm in North Carolina and I'm feeling very good about life and performance and health and love. I feel open and supported and invited and celebrated. I'm celebrating the feel of the tip. The sharp point as it rolls off my finger thunk right where I intended it to thunk.
By the full moon light, I thunk I finally know how to aim.
Join The Game
Charlotte, NC
Charlotte, NC
October 03, 2006
To join October's official Fiat Nox Contest you must be mostly alive, at least partially human and willing to adhere to arbitrary rules issuing forth from my chaotic mind.
The Fiat Nox Contest begins yesterday, October 1st and will conclude Halloween nite, October 31st.
Contestants will be accepted throughout the month, however the winner will be selected by my sole unquestionable discretion by merrit of creativity, authenticity and ghastly daring in participation of a weekly Side Show Act (rules to be posted). Obviously those who have participated most extensively will have devilishly greater chances of winning ... something ... of priceless value and unimaginable worth.
To enter, contestants must register in the Lonely Garden and post a photograph of themselves at work followed by a photograph of themselves as a Side Show Performer. For ideas, consult the great Freak Show Deluxe website and circus-acts-gone-wrong archives. I am not here to give you ideas. I am here to tell you the rules.
Post a photograh of yourself at work and post a photograph of yourself as a Side Show Performer after dark. Describe both in as much detail as you feel like and then explain why you are a valuable asset to my famous horror road show.
It is time to begin.
The Fiat Nox Contest begins yesterday, October 1st and will conclude Halloween nite, October 31st.
Contestants will be accepted throughout the month, however the winner will be selected by my sole unquestionable discretion by merrit of creativity, authenticity and ghastly daring in participation of a weekly Side Show Act (rules to be posted). Obviously those who have participated most extensively will have devilishly greater chances of winning ... something ... of priceless value and unimaginable worth.
To enter, contestants must register in the Lonely Garden and post a photograph of themselves at work followed by a photograph of themselves as a Side Show Performer. For ideas, consult the great Freak Show Deluxe website and circus-acts-gone-wrong archives. I am not here to give you ideas. I am here to tell you the rules.Post a photograh of yourself at work and post a photograph of yourself as a Side Show Performer after dark. Describe both in as much detail as you feel like and then explain why you are a valuable asset to my famous horror road show.
It is time to begin.
