How It Got Its Name, Notes
Everything starts with fire, begins there. I am sorry to say. The schoolyard's burned down. Isn't that it says on the back of the cassette? I'm embroidering references to make it real. Writing and recipes: add a fact.
In the same vein of Tae Won Yu and Rachel Carns everything now is in fire, on a cassette, or up as in being a satellite. These are the pictures I look at when I am writing you your letter. Satellite is closest, but the sad fact of the matter is that it had been, secretly, a kind of ransom note. And since this ransom has not been paid (maybe should never have been asked for I mean demanded) we now leave Billy in the hands of his captors. That is okay. Burn it down. There are certain chemical compounds which are released only through fire. Distinct minerals are redistributed into their environments only through combustion. We know how to ask for rain but we don't know how to ask for this, we've never been trained. And when we do learn to ask for what we think we want we do it in the language of fetish, the vernacular of kink. The poorly translated bedroom. When I say I want to throttle you while we're fucking it's not because I want to hurt you it's because I want to know what it looks like so I can know what face to make. When I ask you to spit in my face it's not because I want to feel degraded (that implies a narrative).
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm organizing my thoughts. I'm trying to work on this new piece which I am going to perform on Saturday. it's going to be called ENCOURAGER and eventually it'll be a theater piece. Saturday it will be a disco piece, a song cycle. The things I'm thinking about with ENCOURAGER are also what I am thinking about in terms of spirituality and religion. It is about making a leap of psychic faith. The general idea is that if you're just nice enough eventually it will rub off on you. Maybe I can do a life art piece in which I only speak in the second person for a whole year.The other part of the piece involves suicide through narcisissm. I'll get to it later.What I want to convey is this impulse I've been having for the last handful of months. I feel like I have to keep doing exactly what I am doing and that eventually things will work out. That if I keep giving and giving and become a machine of giving, a mechanism for support and affection, that eventually someone will do that for me. Instead of, you know, asking me how I built the machine, can I build them a machine, can they use my machine, etc.
So maybe we need to begin with fire. Our own flammability. Where is the index on which I can find myself? And what are the qualities that my state embodies?
I want to be inert. Next to you.