I was worried that I was taking myself too seriously, so I thought: "What would it look like to take yourself all the way seriously? To take yourself seriously to the point of delusion?" I was worried that I cared too much about what other people thought of me, so I tried to imagine what it might look like to follow that caring to its logical conclusion. To depict a kind of relating to the world that is so dysfunctional that you charge money for people to share you company. To have such unwavering, natural entitlement and air of expertise that you don't have to bother making sense. I was worried about being not charismatic enough. Or, to be perfectly frank: I was worried that I was already too charismatic. That people only looked at me to get a sense of self, validation. So I thought: "What would it look like to live entirely for other people's sense of validation?" I wanted to make a show about the failure of charisma. It's not charisma's fault, but there is a death of charisma. It has a natural lifecycle. It has an end. I understand the basic task of humanity as accepting death as an inevitable and inextricable part of life, of existence. Charisma is like this as well. To be merely charismatic is to make the audience feel good, be happy. Yeah, sure. We like movie stars and pop singers who make us happy, and make us want to strive to be more like them or embody their qualities. But that's not enough. To be truly charismatic, however, is to make the audience feel good, be happy, and feel responsible for that. To make them realize that the good-feelings are generated by them. If done correctly; if you can find the time and space and patience to do it, you disappear. There's no space to be a diva. Narcissus is a red herring. There's no room for egotism. I wanted to try to find a way to do that. And I feel like I am pivoting towards taking baby steps in the right direction. If you wanted to congratulate a group of people, all at the same time, what would that even look like, y'know? It might look, at first, so familiar as to be ignored, unless your attention was called to it.
The big lesson I learned in making this, though, was that I could really have used some more input, help, a director, dramaturg, intern, collaborator, co-writer, costume designer, anything. If only to just talk about it. And say if I'm making no sense or a little sense. I think I could have saved myself so much greif by having another person (or people) there with me. SO: lesson learned. I'm definitely seeking any of the above, if anyone is interested. Please write me. It was a trip. It was like cooking without tasting.