8/18/15

black and white and red all over

Maybe don't worry so much. I love this article I read today about Dame Judi Dench who "lives in fear" as an actor. If she can, why can't I? Probably neither of us should. What good does it do. I guess it's nice to know that even excellent famous celebrities worry. I feel like I don't know where to go, or something. On the plus side things don't feel so urgent, but I never know if that kind of lack-of-urgency means I'm okay or if it means I'm checking out.

Hey real quick what's the difference between "a feeling" and "a symptom"? Asking for a friend.


Another thing my mom and I have in common is our insatiable appetites for banana chips

I want to dye my hair black. I want to wake up with a different face.


my current obsession, the best sunscreen I've ever tried

I mean I'm working on stuff. I'm working on, at the moment:

- A short story for a picture book project with one of my best friends
- Editing a story for a website that is (inexplicably) going to pay me to publish my writing
- Working on nailing down my new solo show, THE GOOD DAUGHTER, which I'm performing on 9/20 as part of the Queer New York International Arts Festival (yes really)
- Planning the next B0DYH1GH appearance, at Bushwig this year.

I guess there's some other stuff too. Writing my horoscope column. Applying to some stuff. You know.

It's just that nothing feels super duper necessary. I think I'm maybe keeping my head underground. I'm kidding myself. Or else I really am in what I now know to call a mixed-state. Mixed-State reminds me of food, for some reason. I'm always hungry. How out of whack could I be, really, if I'm still so hungry all the time. This is the life force in me.


Panacea

I'm excited to go jogging today, outdoors. To sweat in public. To come up against the limits of my breath. It's like I don't want to be pretty or something. I don't want to be funny or interesting. I want to find something that feels unfuckwithable.

I mean I guess I don't care so much about aesthetics. Maybe this means I'm not really an artist. I feel like I'm only a performer because I don't know another way to do stuff. But like my comfort and my "aptitude" don't seem to... shine... After I did MAPPLETHORPE someone told me they had a discussion with their friend about how I seem like a natural performer and that show really illustrated that for them. I know I'm insecure and all (to say the least) but I feel like the subtext there is... I'm a natural performer, but not in that show, the show I wrote and performed by myself. Fair enough. I'm probably a better actor than I am... maker. This being said I'm excited to do my new solo show.

I had said in the description that I wanted to reverse-engineer drag and fail at it. I had said that I wanted to make work about fags and feminism. And I felt like, at first, I needed to be really heavy-handed and specific about it. But now I just want to write love-letters to my girlfriends and read them out loud in between fucking awful covers of like, "Iceblink Luck".

I want to find a way to make theater and drag and punk rock recover its glossolalia roots. I mean I don't care so much about beauty. Beauty is fucked up, right? Inherently? Like abstraction isn't more interesting or more fair or more righteous to me. it's just less overtly oppressive. Like it's a thing of modulation. Resistance is a spectrum.

There's this idea that imagination is the same as action.

There's been this misapprehension that desire will save you and that's not true. All you need is not love. You need love but you need a bunch of other shit and you can get by without love. Trust me.


for when I'm trying not to smoke

Though I'd like some more, now. Love or whatever. It's like I'm not battling the idea or darkness or trying to get more light. I'm just trying to skate my program.

Been so obsessed with Royal Trux all weekend I feel like my mind is either becoming stronger or weaker and this is some kind of a sign.



Like why can't I just calm down and be happy. Alternately, I'm feeling okay today, which is a blessing.

I'm just having these romantic and nihilistic feelings. Alternating. And it's creepy and weird. But not bad.

Still hungry/

No comments: