"I don't rehearse, because performance art is not about rehearsal; that's what makes it different from theater." Marina Abramovic

And, that may be the only difference.

NY mag's latest piece on The Artist is Present

Intimacy as performance--roles that we take on to please ourselves and our partners. Places of understanding. These are considered our comfort zones where we fearlessly shield connection--therefore connection as a performer is also slightly disconnected? Nothing new, but what can be removed is the unattainable shadow of abstraction surrounding performance. Interaction is perhaps a variable; and regardless of its definition, its presence within performance art and theater are consistent and reflective. An audience will applaud or will stare at you stone faced without any understanding of what might have actually occurred. It seems that an audience reaction is not necessary.

However, this is the difference between intimacy and performance. Interaction must be static to cause exchange, dynamic, and finality. And it appears that expression may exist simultaneously within courage because the advances are based on assumption, repetition, and intuition.

excerpt from cowboy

My Beatitudes, July 2007

Never complain.

Believe.

Ask questions.

Intervene for your friends.

Expect nothing. HOPE for everything.

What your friends and loved ones believe is their gospel. Accept it, knowing the truth and let them feel comforted. Educate but do not humiliate.

Look directly into the sun--stare directly into the light.

Breathe.

Walk in the originality of your own path.

Spend wisely—time and money.

Always sing OUT LOUD.

Work hard and NEVER give up.

Ignore the devil--he is very busy.

Wash your hands, BEFORE and after indulgence—food, sex, and learning.

Say, “I love you”. Expect it in return.

Share.

Nourish your body with good food and good drink.

Listen.

Discuss sadness and tragedy as a way towards healing.

Remember, that your heart is your family and the foundation of your soul. Please do not forget this.

Speak to the dearly departed at rest and at rise.

Believe that God is everywhere and seek His inspiration.

Cry. Wail. Crumble. Release.

Do NOT explain yourself.

Enjoy laughter from your belly as often as you can.

Compromise nothing for a full experience. Be present.

Relish in your rebellion, but do not pursue it.

Maintain mystery.

Leave home and know you are allowed to look back.

Introducing....

PUERTO RICAN DISCOVERY #23: Portrait In Raising Self Esteem by Sandra Maria Esteves

Brooding Woman (recto), Three Children (verso)
Pablo Picasso (Spanish, 1881-1973)


Flirtatious dreamers
we judge ourselves all wrong

Backward guilt
feet-first jumpstarts into birth
innocent to realize
rain days can be good
blessings from heaven
disguised

We watch for signs
Survival manna
slow to discover learning lessons
on an oceanic route
full of rocky struts
fathomless caves
voluptuous hills
sea water from the unexpected...

We are infants compared to the universe
a wise great-grandmother
who can harvest the stars around the moon

The names of all things are sacred
like thoughts breathing clean air
More than loving
living means giving
Like homegrown food
from the eternal harvest within

But for real.

performance

My soft frailty center eventuates myth
Epic death at the hands of audience member
Fiction, determining the story
And choosing my own adventure
I conduct the show
Withdrawn from my conclusion
Creating on canvas of great life details
Seeing my individual visual emerge visible
And somehow, misunderstanding the colors
The stencils outlining the live action
The living performance
A moving image
Enclosing my opening
(Folding inward doublespeak)
Makes me
Not reality
This fantastic spirit fantasy vision
Envelopes your expectant entertainment
Earthly volunteers temporarily in seated agreement
Their applause rendering darkness
Reversing accolades
Not my goal,
Nor my fruit
I insist upon an encore

Gallery 788, Baltimore

This show features effervescent photographer and my super dance pal, Lauren Barnhart

Gallery 788
*a co-op featuring local artists
BALTIMORE
Sunday from 12-6 , with performances beginning at 2
check the postcard for address details

found these on my desktop

collage with end papers by the beloved Mark Bradford...looking for new work. Anyone?



Alana Davis

work: INSPIRATION

Old stuff...breeding new POWER.




THUNDER (the Gemini)

I see your hand reaching for my thunder.
Exhausted thieves spend lifetimes dodging guilty rain clouds.
Your smile does nothing to mask your crime.
I cracked your eggshell façade and spoke all the words you hate.
Honesty love faithfulness
Your eyelids wrinkle as you continue to reach.
Still present, yet in the dark, seeing only the red beneath your lids.
I don’t stop you, and cowardly claim “reasons”.
This glory will not comfort my thankless hard work.
You have taught me to find new ways to brew a storm.
Clutch my knuckles without touching my fingertips,
While making me feel good about myself by doing what I say.
Threaten my thunder to thoroughly defeat you.
Force me to rumble to discover my enemy.

outLOOKout!

My head slips deeper into my sweater’s neck.
The familiar turtle.
I’m willing to part with my shell.
Not now, she says.
Bumps raise on my skin’s first layer.
All is quiet in this corner.
Sight beyond is hollow and unnecessary.
It’s my turn with my mind’s game.
My thought’s current tactics are patient with my recollection.
Right now.
Nothing even matters, they said.
Right now.
I interrupt myself and change channels.
Returning to my regularly scheduled programming.
Smiling like I mean it and unbraiding my hair.
If only I could slow down and return your gesture.
But I can’t recall my last move.
I revert to an old remedy.
The shell surrounds me--
Guarded from penetration and winning the game.
The spotlight is bright and the prize extravagant.
You pawn me off with the king’s jewels.
I jump, swinging my leg over your head
And wrap ribbons around the maypole.
Shouting secrets over the uneven grass,
And mouthing fantasies across subway seats.
Doe eyed deliverance!
And posture maintained; I'm a decent bluff.
My stop approaches, and the doors open.
The game is forfeited, and I lose my turn.

REVOLUTION

The returned vibration
is a familiar flag
embossed with details edited
onto yesterday's framework
by diminishing prior birth.

gift ideas?

Lanvin, Fall Collection 2010