On Performance

You may have been led to believe that the artist is at the mercy of their audience. That they must bend and strike pose to please and gain their admiration.

Incorrect.

It is the artist who’s will is exacted in their work. Expression is one of the highest displays of humanity.

Performance is this expression, blended with the craft showmanship. The task is to marry the charm of the trickster with the passion of the zealot, and deliver it with the honesty of a poet.

In dance it is the rapture of the soul in tandem with the flesh. In song it is the amplified pulse of the heart, in perfect synch with the pulse of the room.

No, it is not the artist who submits to the audience, but martyrs himself before them. It is a sacrifice of fear and inhibition to be judged purely, bled of all guards.

Where lurks the shadow of execution we instead find the light of baptism.

And he is reborn to the sound of showering applause…

Your Soul Is An Algorithm

Your soul is an algorithm.
Stimulus in put equals out put action.
This is not your mind.

Your brain does calculations,
Permutations, organizations, pattern recognition.
It is a bean counter, it is a worry machine. 

Your soul is a self-solving rubik's cube.
It is auto-didactic, logic agnostic,
Raw data synthesized into natural experience
It is a qualifier, it is a nostalgia stamping significance notary. It is a meaning deriver.

We move as gas like states.
Wave particles packed in body bags
Vibrating light fueling sub-cellular dances to
In audible frequencies of quantum radiation.
This is not your body.

Your flesh feels things. It is an antennae.
It sniffs, seeks, sounds out, pokes, wiggles and squirms. It takes pictures, records and stabilizes.
It is all dashboard notifications and buzzing alarm clocks.
Your soul says go. It is a timing totem, metronome, tuning fork. Your soul doesn't make the music. It decides what music is. It is a constant cavern bouncing sounds off itself to find the perfect echo.

Your soul is a hall of mirrors. Endless reflection framed by the body and mind. It is a knot that can not be unwind. It is neither personality or design. It is not the calculator of your brain, is not the symbols of your shape it is not the variable of your experience.

Your soul is an algorithm solving for resonance.
The lowest common factor what we are attracted to.
Tastes, pleasures and fondness are soul finds.
Love is a gold mine, it is what all the senses are enlisted to filter for.
It is what the brain is wired to drive towards.

It is the non-biological stem of ambition. We become curious when it's hinted at, and giddy when grasped.It is felt in laughter, hate, satisfaction.

These are our buttons and they are only pushed every so often. In perfect sequence or combination, at best it is orgasm at worst it is agony. Your soul says romance or tragedy. It illuminates your fantasy in the darkness of dry stimuli.

If the universe started with a bang, your soul started with a beep. And it is the greatest feeling in the world to recognize another beep. So I just said all that to say.

I hear you.