“killing that part of you that_ (mirror stage)” ~
(2021)
solo performance
10 minutes
two-channel video projection, mirror, marley, text.
“killing the part of you that (mirror stage)” contemplates the psychoanalytic theory of the death drive, narrcisism, and the “mirror stage” in infancy. The format of a lecture presentation is perverted as the performer descends into a dancerly split over the duration of 8 minutes, materializing the psychoanalytic phenomenon of “splitting” as a trauma response in adolescence. The piece is finished when the performer can no longer descend.
Ex. 3
(2013) I walked to the Safeway on 16th & Jefferson near the art museum where my mother had a shift later that day I saw a man rocking crossed legged on the ground and wondered if he was praying or high I hated the pharmacist I left I cried I went around the block on a phone call and felt like a lunatic I went to the high school a few blocks down I swore I would never do this again that apartment was in a strange little corner of town hidden behind the YMCA which is a good thing because it means I’ll never have to see it again today I feel raw today I feel tired, clearheaded, calm as if I had cried last night but I didn’t maybe it’s a cleansing a purging a throwing away I do feel cleansed detoxification of the body my body tells me enough is enough I don’t listen that’s what livers are for can a book be a tonic? can a body be pure? there’s no such thing as an objective observer to witness, to absorb, to discharge, to let go, a process, a cycle, let me repeat:
breath, static, stasis.
flat, armored, feet bruised, blushed, bush.
bruised bleeding gape agape
burning buried breath, place, place.
bleeding heart bled, split
schizophrenic “rape scene” like laying down
safeway rotisserie chicken
split wide open
a split
a slip
a gape
a gap
a gaping hole
an open wound
an opening
spit
(2021)
solo performance
10 minutes
two-channel video projection, mirror, marley, text.
“killing the part of you that (mirror stage)” contemplates the psychoanalytic theory of the death drive, narrcisism, and the “mirror stage” in infancy. The format of a lecture presentation is perverted as the performer descends into a dancerly split over the duration of 8 minutes, materializing the psychoanalytic phenomenon of “splitting” as a trauma response in adolescence. The piece is finished when the performer can no longer descend.
Ex. 3
(2013) I walked to the Safeway on 16th & Jefferson near the art museum where my mother had a shift later that day I saw a man rocking crossed legged on the ground and wondered if he was praying or high I hated the pharmacist I left I cried I went around the block on a phone call and felt like a lunatic I went to the high school a few blocks down I swore I would never do this again that apartment was in a strange little corner of town hidden behind the YMCA which is a good thing because it means I’ll never have to see it again today I feel raw today I feel tired, clearheaded, calm as if I had cried last night but I didn’t maybe it’s a cleansing a purging a throwing away I do feel cleansed detoxification of the body my body tells me enough is enough I don’t listen that’s what livers are for can a book be a tonic? can a body be pure? there’s no such thing as an objective observer to witness, to absorb, to discharge, to let go, a process, a cycle, let me repeat:
breath, static, stasis.
flat, armored, feet bruised, blushed, bush.
bruised bleeding gape agape
burning buried breath, place, place.
bleeding heart bled, split
schizophrenic “rape scene” like laying down
safeway rotisserie chicken
split wide open
a split
a slip
a gape
a gap
a gaping hole
an open wound
an opening
spit
Last thing:
I am looking to leverage my pain
Last thing:
I wanted to look good while I did this for you but my muscles are shaking and I’m tired
Last thing:
I cringe as I recount this
Last thing:
I’m walking away in my heeled boots click clack click click clack my friend tells me I need a cobbler and I laugh in spite of the pain the ringing in my ears the echo
Last thing:
I am looking to leverage my pain. Is that illness or vanity? What is that
