I'd like to say that last nights shows were riveting, but they weren't. As usual by the end of the evening I felt like I'd got my teeth kicked in again. It's not really that bad, I worked a few hours, I made good money (I guess), I had some fun. . . . . but gaping holes in the fabric of the tapestry that I'm trying to weave. .. . leave me yearning for more. I used to think that my job was to reawaken childlike wonder, to help trapped and jaded people find a glimmer of hope in a desperate world of dissatisfaction and hundred degree heat, in the sun, carrying more than a few extra pounds.
There is so much competition attracting and seducing every sense. In the midst of the madness, as the mass exodus from the theme park marches past my pitch. Hot and tired after a day of schlepping, you can smell the stores without even entering them, chocolate from one, soap and bath stuff from another, LOUD upbeat music is pumped in every crack, making sure no one sleeps and everyone keeps up with the beat. Neon signs, movie theaters, restaurants, nightclubs and high end retail; explodes in an architectural acid trip of freakazoid eye candy.
So here I am trying to create my own jazz inspired mood with some 4 ace routine to some music or the multiple card selection. Into Doc Daley's on the persons palm. Lately, when I want to see childlike wonder. . . I go to the children. That's what I'm talking about! Little fuckers with HUGE smiles on their faces and eyes wide open. "How do yo do that?" they ask.
The grown ups might afford themselves the luxury of wonder, but so many don't close the circle, finish the thought and let itself manifest in an outward and physical way. . . Like a smile, or nod, or clap, laugh, wink. WHATEVER! ANYTHING! It amazes me how devoid of life some people seem. Blank stares, unemotional and unblinking, like fucking zombies, they stare at me while I work and think. . . brains, brains eat his brains.
Been really working on slowing down and trying not to step on reactions, laughs or applause. It's funny, at some point I feel, well; I've obviously waited long enough that if the were going to react, they would. Never a good feeling. All of these things going through my mind as I try and figure it all out.
Hey, I'm in the trenches on the front lines of performance. I go face to face with my audiences and either do my job or not. I feel good about the work that I'm doing and the daily discoveries that I make. Well it's that time again, maybe tomorrow I'll have a better story to tell.