I’ve had to say it a few times so just to clear things up – I am not a performer. I have been seen on stage and occasionally I’ve done well up there. This is all in spite of my debilitating stage fright and complete insecurity. I feel like Marta Kauffman trying to interact with the Friends.  I don’t belong behind the microphone no matter how compelling my raw emotions might be.  I recognize the performance art I create.  I feel like there’s a confusion between what is art and what is performance.  If you don’t know how my mind works it’s easy to mistake me for an actress at times.

Performers are a subsection of artist the way insects are a category of bug. Bug isn’t a scientific term and is used to group everything creepy-crawly into a lump.  Artist is the same term.  There are creators and there are performers.  All insects are bugs just like all performers are artists.  (Add the inflection if you prefer.)  However, not all bugs are insects.  Not all artists are performers.  Some of us just create.  We make the things that the performers do.  Sometimes we have to do it ourselves.  Possible, but far less compelling.

There is no better or worse.  Creators, like spiders, are randomly loathed and feared for no good reason.  Performers are numerous and disposable just like roaches.  We are all stomped out by the people that don’t want anything to do with us.  After years of watching the struggle, I am starting to recognize my place in it.  I am not here to make you have a good time.  I am here to make sure you don’t repeat these mistakes again.  I have no hope of changing anyone’s mind but someone should record the need for further change.

I’m not a musician and yet I have the music in me.  I dance without thinking and sing when I’m alone.  I desperately want to create a haunting melody that encompasses the pain I feel on a daily basis.  Instead I just write the words down.  If I find a way to express the music I will have a litany of thoughts to use for lyrics.  For now you have to settle for my stories.  I have more coming.  Deeper and darker stories from my time as a fair witness in midtown Memphis along with perspective-laced treats about modern times in the PNW.  If I become a millionaire I’ll hire someone to teach me music-makery.