PERFORMANCE: Questioning the Truth of Fame
Many who have known me for longer than a few years might have remembered my youthful drive for fame. True to many teenagers and young adults, it was a driving goal of mine. Through various interventions with mental health I found myself isolating from the outside world and slowly my quest for fame fell to ashes. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't wealthy enough. I wasn't talented enough. I wasn't enough in anything that I did; in any way that I presented myself. I wasn't enough. I wasn't what this world desired or so I came to believe. Once again, the same as it did when I was just entering my teens, the thirst for status and fame had taken it's toll on me and I collapsed into myself without ever even being a flicker in the eyes of any significant portion of people.
So why do I find this ache returning? Why do I revisit this desire again, and again, and again. This yearn to be recognized and appreciated. It's a human enough want, is it not? But when does it become more than nature? At what point will the praise from friends and peers no longer satiate this inner turmoil and I once again feel that need to unleash myself on a larger scale. If I could just get people to see me, to really see me, to really understand my art and my person then surely I will be fine. As I seek an authentic expression of myself I come to find something that doesn't sit too well with me. In many ways I am authentically inauthentic.
Imagine for one moment, though, that I find this place of worship. Imagine I free myself from the chains I've placed around me and let myself breathe my truth and imagine that someone hears me, then another, then another, until slowly but surely people start to know my name. Would this void then disappear? I think back to the few times I held some form of popularity. I think about the drama, about the pain, the hate I faced, the limitations, the overwhelming sensation and outrageous things I put myself through to maintain it. All the red tape. I remember these things and I think... No. It would not satiate me. It would not fill a void.
Someone I admired once said to think about fame as a mountain and you -- the person who had obtained it -- stand at the top. Now look down, look at how far it is down again and remember one very important thing: there is only down.
It's been over six years since I have taken a serious dive back into performative art and my roots as a person who hungers for more than just recognition but an uncensored and unfiltered sense of expression and expressive truth. In this journey I've been blessed with a challenging subject, one which it meant to make people think. I'm reflecting upon this subject today to share with people my participation in a performative art piece called Intangible Adorations.
It just seemed fitting that I fall into a performance that has to do with the ill affects of fame and status of celebrity. How does the machine of fame affect the people who are experiencing it? What is their truth now that they are concealed and capable of speaking it without any reprimanding? I, along with a few other performers, have the privilege of gifting this freedom to a celebrity that has long since lost it to fame. Lost it to the very thing that I often desire.
Within this immersive and multimedia world we create for Intangible Adorations come many questions of moral and truth. It addresses feelings of worship and fantasy and contrasts it with a harsh reality. In the end, people often forget that these idols we worship and flesh and blood the same as we are. They laugh, they cry, and they too experience mental illness.
The performance itself may seem strange at times; may seem abstract but I can promise you that the very second you enter through those doors you are no longer in the same world as you were before. With that, I hope you can join us.