Inarticulate before the sublime

[Karen writes]

I've had the most awful few days of expressing myself. Meaning many opportunities to do so, and little wit on my part. I was pooped. Last week I had to a) finish building a drum b) prepare for a conference panel discussion on artist spaces c) tech, dress and perform Mythos d) prep the space for and host the JAST New Year party, and, natch, e) keep teaching, administrating and planning. I was a bit sleep deprived, guilt-ridden about neglecting play time with Bugsy (the dog) and just plain addled from trying to hold too many disparate thoughts and aims in mind. Of course, if the dog complains, I'll say "just look at the laundry and you'll know what really neglected is!"

What I wanted to say in the Q & A following the Friday night Mythos performance was that the audience member (who had commented on the amount of sheer trust that the performers must have had) was not mistaken. There was great trust--trickling down from the moment Rick came and said "I want you to do this," to the moment each dancer fell into the arms of another. There was trust as each dancer figured out how slowly to move the ball so that the other dancer could run down to the end to receive it, to the musicians doing their part to make sure the dancers could hear their cues....

I did manage to say that of all the skill sets needed--whether of dance or silks or taiko or whatever--performance was another skill set, and that being a performer inherently demands that we trust other performers. Or at least Rome said I managed to say that. She might have been being kind, and DOES, after all, speak fluent Karen-ese... I get awfully non-linear at times.

I know I said that being a performer means even if something goes wrong, the audience never knows... meaning--and I wish I had articulated it more clearly--that performance is where we, as performers, must trust that we know our parts so well that no matter what happens, it will not mar the audience's perception, and that our only job in those moments on stage is to be the audience's experience....

Ah, but that would be being articulate in the moment: not my strong suit. I grabbed photos of the production from the Tucson Weekly and AZ Daily Star sites. If you want to read the previews of Mythos, go to:

http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/Arts/Content?oid=oid:105679
http://www.azstarnet.com/allheadlines/221929.php

What I know, at the end of the incredible journey that Mythos has been, is that Rick's vision and work has--more than any project I've ever been involved in--captured the feeling I've held for so long about life, and that I've wished I could transmit to everyone I meet: that our lives are in a sense meaningless in the history of the universe, or even our planet, but that we are one of the rare beings that can perceive of our own existence within that context. Thus, we are the ones who give meaning to it, we give it the value and the weight that moves us, we are the ones we've been dreaming of..., and, god, aren't we lucky to have this time to be alive and to experience it all? Even pain and hurt and anger seem to make sense, yet not be so important in light of the joy... of feeling the wind, of singing, of moving together, of teaching and learning, or of just knowing the taste of sugar.... Being here and human is quite amazing.