By nature, performance artists of any kind have a sort of je-ne-sais-quoi to our demeanor and personal intentionalities. We don't often say, in such straightforward terms, "I'm bored," or "I want to go on an Alaskan cruise," or "I'm really lonely and need a friend." The creative type, and perhaps the visual artist would bow out of the equation, always seeks to rupture time and space with his or her x-factor of 'intentional creation.'
It is not necessarily a pretentious undertaking; but, if truly borne out of the interwoven crucibles of: 1. a quest for meaning and purpose, and 2. the pain that ensues as we are driven out to sea (if you catch my drift) to find such meaning and purpose- a thinker, an actress, a musician (and yes, I'll say a visual artist, but I'm thinking of those who grapple with active performance and word experimenting, primarily) must continually die to old methods and forms.....
Because our quest is always renewed. It isn't erased, but as we learn wherein lie the boundaries between our necessary daily affairs, and the Muse which governs our ineluctable thirst for uniqueness, we constantly go between unconscious and conscious modes of living. Every time a born artist tries to get comfortable, he gets uncomfortable. It's a tenuous tight-rope walk to make a new song, sometime the merits of which seem so sketchy, as napkins turn into notebooks, which aspire to turn into a self-funded compact disc, or well-crafted uploaded tracks, and so forth.
As a madcap writer and musical visionary, I invite you to come grapple with me as we intentionally recreate our horizons. I can assure you....the sojourn ahead is filled with delight.
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