I don’t have 3 eyes. So we approach the mystery.
What the hell is intuition? How do I know?
Already my gut has a mystery, my roots full of mysteries, my heart, my voice, my sex……mysteries pour forth.
And this space, between my eyebrows where things become clear. No explanation but an undeniable knowing I am on the right track, that the story will eventually make sense, maybe not before the 1st performance, maybe not even then.
Family Floez continue to make sense well into the months of performances, refining what exactly is it that is going on, and how does it work. The audience constantly in flux. Like the audience and the performance, my intuition is constantly changing. It demands trust and faith. Magic! Does it exist? Not for me to tell you. But for me to secretly believe in all of it – hook line and sinker. The salvation of our broken humanity.
When I read the news it is extremely hard to stick to my intuition. The heady words of damnation and greed. Of hatred and fear. Fear beyond belief. And yet…and yet….the knowing knows all is not lost. A shift is happening. Society is deeply changing.
It most probably will be extremely painful.
The artist’s role is more important than ever in times of pain for the work is about facing pain head on knowing that only in the pain do we understand the truth. Only in pain do we become willing to change. It is necessary. It will make you wiser and stronger. You will survive it and be better for it.
What does it mean to be a channel for the divine?
Ooops, don’t say divine. It s a dirty word. Arrogant. Too big for you.
Too big for you human. Too loaded with pedophiles and dictators who repressed the very essence of itself.
I don’t deny the word.
To stand on stage and connect to something bigger than myself. To feel the presence of all the women and men who came before me. Who took me into their hearts and then somehow I express what THEY want to say. It is no longer me. Who is it? Where does it come from? It is so much bigger than me.
Thank goodness it’s bigger than me. I have such limited things to say. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. But I am LED.
No longer do I need to worry about whether I am good enough. Am I a good enough actress, director, holder of space. It doesn’t matter. It’s not about me. It’s about you. My beautiful other, my sacred audience.
I want to share with you something that came to me as it comes to you in your dreams, when you cry from the pit of your stomach or when you can’t help but sing for joy on the train platform. I want to remind you of a question we have been posing for a long time, the answer of which might just open something new.