Honesty, Facebook, and the Fringes….

truth faceHonesty

I’m still not posting.

And I feel bad about it.

Because somewhere things changed here.

It was a travel/artist blog,

And then it became a link on a half-dozen fringe pages

and a few reviews,

And because I’m a perfectionist,

it was easier to write nothing, than something.

 You know what I AM doing though?


Which sounds like exaggeration.

But if you believe Schrödinger…..

than unless you have seen me,

you cannot verify that this is not true.

And I honour myself for my ass-less work.


What I have been doing very well is Facebooking (here), it’s even a public feed aka, you don’t need an account. What I have been doing even better is Facebooking personally (sorry no link). What’s the difference? I’m not entirely sure. I get into the world and I tell the most personal stories about my life. I am an incredibly open person on and off stage. But I do want to express some good sense about who knows what. I do curate myself.

What I have been thinking about lately is the lines I use to curate. What are my boundaries? Believe it or not I lean conservative when it comes to the internet. I am more likely NOT to make something public that I’d offer freely in person, especially when there’s an exchange. It’s part of why sharing as much as I do is still a big deal for me. Shame never goes away completely, we just pick away at it, turn it around, claim ourselves over and over again, each layer of us unpeeling and being discovered, sometimes in private, and sometimes in public, whenever and wherever it happens.

The onslaught of image-management is an overwhelming temptation….what if I change my mind on an issue I’ve already posted about? What if I’m wrong? What if I don’t seem professional? A “real artist”? What if I make lots and lots of mistakes? (but what do I expect? I’m still so new at this and I have little help in the way of eyes looking over things. Maybe no one is even reading this?) Mistakes are guaranteed of course. If I’m doing this right, I’ll probably feel a strong need to improve everything here in a year, or if I’m lucky, sooner.

I have lots and lots of behaviors that have a lot to do with how I was raised and caring far too deeply about what people think of me and not trusting that I am likeable for who I am, particularly with my many flaws that truthfully, make me a real person hopefully more interesting and textured than an “image” or a “brand.” ……So goes the conflation of the real person with the autobiographical artist. Of course, if I limit how much I’m connecting authentically and honestly beyond the limits of the stage, I’ll never find out how likeable I am in a broader context, and the correct people will not find what they need to here to take a true interest.

So, if that’s what curation is still about, and not about my actual safety, than maybe it’s time to drop another layer of pretense, to myself and to you. Maybe what I’ve learned this year in the publicity boot camp I’ve been subjecting myself to, is a whole bunch of things I do want to do to reach people, and an even greater amount of things I DON’T want to do. Perhaps my branding can be honesty, not just about the content of my work, but the process of getting there. It’s rough. I’m not perfect, and maybe that’s the best thing in the world for me. Maybe that means I can post more, because I’m not trying so hard to post the complete, full, “perfect,” best-representation-of-self-as-artist posts. In real life, I don’t get to edit over and over.

We shall see. Regardless, I’m taking steps to make space for myself.


I have done several fringes now. I’m still learning so much about them. Every time it is still a new one. Every city has it’s own character, it’s own list after list of media contacts, and that list is growing always, and there is always more to find. On the performance side, everything can be a wide range of experiences and always will be. But on the publicity side, that side that you don’t see, is a never ending web of networks and statistics and money, and kind friends with a limit to their own resources. I don’t know what it takes to find the audiences who would enjoy my work. All I can do it show up and try, and let go of the things that exhaust me. I can impose limits on how much time and energy I spend on something with infinite promise of exhaustion, and hope it’s enough.

For today, that is all.