Saturday, December 5, 2009

Influencially Yours

So I was shuffling through my ipod the other day at work and a song came on that I hadn't heard in years. The song was "Too Funky" by George Michael.

I first heard the song on MTV back when, you know, you could do those things. The video was George behind a camera at a fashion show of girls in the most ridiculous outfits you could imagine, shit no one would ever wear on the street. But most of them looked pretty damn hot though. This one video shaped what I am now realizing is the basis for many of my current interests in the world; cinematography, photography, modeling, redheads and being in a position to get my hands on all these things. 

To this day I still love the song and video even though I probably couldn't name another George Michael song. Funny huh?

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Because I Can

Read an article about the apparent outrage of political figure John McCain's daughter's boobs.|wbml-aol|dl4|link4|

Really? She's a slut for taking a picture that had her boobs in it?

Of course people have flocked to her side(boob) and defended that wearing comfy clothes at home does not mean you're a dirty girl or that because you have large breasticles that you must wear sweaters and large winter coats on your upper half. 

Which brings me to my point ( I know you've been waiting). If it is okay for women to have and display large boobs in fashionable ways, why are boners still considered impolite or disgusting? Isn't it worse to NOT be able to have one than to have one? Websites like this; make boners a weird thing. 

I'm calling bullshit. If a woman can walk around like this

Then men should be able to walk around like this

Just saying. 

Men have dongs, women have boobs. No one should have to hide who they are. 

Doing It.

Had a show in Roxbury last night. First time I've ever been to Roxbury. Can you guess how lost I got with mapquest directions AND a GPS? now before anyone comments, it isn't because I didn't use them properly, it is because I was lead to believe one city wouldn't love a street name so much as to name four different streets the same thing differentiating by the endings; ave, way, park, court. SO looking for Walnut Park while on Walnut Ave, passing Walnut Ct and not giving a damn about Walnut's Way I had to call somebody...who told me to call somebody else lol. Who had to ask somebody, before getting me to where I used to be and then figuring out where I actually was and having me turn back around to go somewhere else. 

Strangely, I was one of the first performers to arrive AND on time. Good thing too cause the place was next door to a laundry mat and parking was slim. Not too strangely, I was catching fuzzy looks when I walked in and all that stopped as soon as I started singing. Sometimes its best being a stranger. Gives you a chance to shock the crowd and give them something they weren't expecting. A good time. 

P.S. I need my own damn GPS lol. 

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Yeah Like That

Generally i like the cold. I usually don't mind when the winter comes because it reminds me that all things must slow to a stop eventually. Problem is, lately I've slowed to a stop too. I've lapsed out of my work and my personal trainings. I'm becoming one of the trees, colorless and dull and it is only a matter of time before strange animals come biting at my bark. The squirrels are no longer running, the birds moved on, the leaves have fallen. I fear this winter will not bring me anywhere but down. But down is only bad when you cannot get back up. 

Nothing to worry about. See you in the spring.

Saturday, October 10, 2009


I am not the man you know. From the moment we are together I am familiar, I am routine, I am That Guy. I become the things you expect and you tell yourself this is me. 

Its not. 

The moment I leave you I change. I become a person in the crowd, moving through the masses, exuding my presence and making first impressions with everyone and no one. Each person seeing a reflection of themselves in my face, my moves and my demeanor. They don't know me either, they just know what they see. It is only when I am completely alone that I am myself. I respond to things however I feel. I can think for myself and act without fear of judgment. And this person I hide is hidden from everyone. And That Guy I become is different for everyone. 

A crystal of personalities, the shine changing at every angle. 

Saturday, October 3, 2009

And I Am Home

I've been called back to that place...
That world that I know so well
The familiar feelings and songs
The power and the pleasure
Never quite getting what I need
Nothing like what I want
And yet I am still comforted
In my dissatisfaction
And I am Home

It's always cold in that place...
The spot I sit in is worn
Never holding the heat it is given
It is not made to appreciate
Just fashioned to take
It can only handle so much
The much is less than I have
So I am unfulfilled
And I am Home

I don't think I'll ever leave this place...
This emptiness built for me
Hard and hollow it bellows the dark
The only flame alight is mine
All others will be snuffed
Nothing else can thrive
It will never be seen as full
Of anything more than shadows and dust
And I am Home

And Today I Changed

I Tried to sleep early last night. Early for me is anything before 3am. I seem to have a light kind of insomnia that no matter when I wake or what I do, I can't sleep before 3am. I stayed in, had a small drink, watched a movie, had a snack and still nothing. I was just up all night. Whenever I try to beat the clock, I end up awake much longer than my usual 3am bedtime. I think I saw the clock every half hour up until 730 this morning.

So when I did finally get up at 830, I did something new. I opened the windows.

If you have ever known me or stepped into one of my rooms, you might have some clue to how different that is. But unless you've been to my newest surroundings you won't truly get the full weight of my drawing back the heavy dark shades that block out all light completely. Drawn, I have complete darkness 24/7. I Can be isolated from the world to the point where I don't even know what the weather is like outside of the temperature. I'm underground and out of sight.

So today I opened the windows.

I don't know what its going to effect other than my morning routine, but maybe it'll do more. Maybe it'll shake my world just a little. Maybe I can take this little change and go somewhere new, not just locally but actually. Maybe something nice will come into my life. Things are going well right now but I'm barely satisfied. It's no one's fault, it just is. I guess that's another change, I'm actually giving thought to happiness again. So maybe I'll leave the windows open every morning. Let that light in. Maybe it'll warm up the room, make things a little more inviting.

Yesterday was normal. Yesterday was awful. I opened the windows. And today I changed.

The Choice Is Not Always Yours

Sometimes things suck. Most people don't wake up hoping the day is going to suck. But they do expect it. And, they damn well should.

If you're not going to put any effort into making things better for yourself than your day should suck. Your life and goals and dreams should burn out and die and you should pull over and let everyone else live there lives and move on without you.

Sorry...that's insensitive. Let me put it another way. Shit rolls downhill. Having this common knowledge should be reason enough to head uphill and beat the fuck out of whoever is shitting down the hill. At least move up and out of the way! But if you'd rather stay in the lane and get shat on, then at least have the decency to admit its your fault.

But you won't and you don't have to. Its your choice. I choose to move ahead. I'll try not to shit until I reach higher ground.

A Letter To The Most Important

Hey man,
Its been some time huh? Where the fuck you been dude? A lot has happened since the last time we hung out but if you asked I'd probably say "not much". It's weird cause the distance never seems to grow or diminish, it just stays there. Ever since you left and came back, you're still on the road to nowhere, looking for yourself but now you seem content to travel solo. Which is cool lol. It always has been. Everyone's gotta do it eventually. I never really minded. Maybe I just always understood. Sometimes I wish i didn't, but that'd be selfish and I was always careful to not be that. That was never what you needed. So I hope to see you sometime eventually, but if not that's cool too. I know your road to nowhere is the most important place for you to be. Nothing could ever hold you back but you. Rock on man.

I really wish we could stop this. All the back and forth has never been good for anyone, but least of all you. Sure we all know I'm the big tough guy who doesn't feel anything and doesn't need anyone and blah blah. Been around so long, even new news is old news. So it doesn't surprise me that I'm still saying the same things and still knowing they're falling on deaf ears. The time when you gave a damn about anything I had to say is LOONG past. I guess years of telling yourself how stupid I am finally paid off. You can block my voice out all you want but the fact remains the same. I still love you, but you and me just don't fit and I don't know if we ever will again. We did once, but that too has gone. If only we weren't so vehement about keeping it that way, maybe we could at least crawl back to friends. I've always been the one to blame, and thats always been fine. I know in my heart, if I was always wrong then I was always wrong for the right reasons. It wasn't for me. If I was doing it for me, it would've ended worse. Maybe one day the good times will still seem as good. Maybe one day I will be gone. And maybe that'll make all the difference. I guess we'll just have to see. Come what may right? eh, you're not reading this anyway.

I really wish you'd shut the fuck up sometimes. You're an insensitive bastard who can't do anything right. You're fucking happy when you're ruining things. Who does that? No one but you. Sure, everything is planned, everything is scripted. Nothing surprises you. Even surprises dont surprise you because you knew you weren't paying attention. I wonder if the justifying everything thing is what pisses people off the most. Answers for everything, reasons for everything. Spontaneously strategizing your next spontaneous action. Maybe if you spent a little more time outside your head you'd actually find someone who wanted to join you. Oh yeah you've got skills. You can do things others dream of. You can make the most mundane into magic, you can bring a moment in time to a crawl and be so damn impressive. But can you be normal? Can you get embarassed?Can you be klutzy? Can you seriously fuck up? Like seriously? How bout this, an easy one...can you put your life in someone elses hands? Sure you talk about giving up control but can you do it? Can you lose at something you're passionate about? Can you be mortal? I fucking doubt it. All this mystery and splendor, surrounding yourself with smokescreens and fantasy. If you said people didn't know the real you, you'd be emo, but you're too clever for that. If you said you were the best, then if someone ever bested you, you'd be a liar and a loser. Can't have that. So you call yourself awesome. Can't really argue that point huh? define awesome in some term that isn't completely relative. Can't do it. And so you win. Your trick is an endless array of tricks. Recycled and replaced with every new face. When you begin again, you just upgrade to a new high and make it seem unique again. You will never end. Even when you're gone, the mystery will continue as legend because no one can tell where the truth is. And here's the real rub of it all. You're probably one of the most truthful and open and honest people you know. And that doesn't leave anyone any less confused about who you are. But you know. You know damn well. You are controlled chaos. And there is no place in this world for people like you. So fuck off.

...For Your Trouble

Tipping is an interesting notion. You pay for services, and then you pay the server for serving those services. As if to say, thanks for the effort. Thanks for giving a damn about what you do.

To me, that's what affection is. Its tipping a person for their love. Thanking them for giving a damn about you. The more you give, the more you appreciate them.

I'm usually a pretty big tipper only because I don't like to go out unless I've got the money to spend and I've worked in many service industries so I know every little bit helps. But not everybody is. I understand the feeling of being taken advantage of and the fears people have of giving more than they can spare. But give and it will come back to you.

I've never been afraid to give to anyone. Even people who don't look like they deserve it. But usually, they're the ones who need it most. Feel me?

Before It Is Over

If humans are made from divine design, then like computers we must have a basic operating system. This would be our "religion", the reason for the way we think and act. The code by which we live. Some of us are Linux, logical, original and constantly changing to suit what we see as our need at the time. So independently made, it ranges from magical to rigorously scientific. Some of us are Macs, the new wave of believers just waiting to prove the world wrong. Always looking for another way through and another way to make things work. But most of us are Microsoft. Our beginning will be our end, this is how we started and this is how we think it should be. Easy to use, hard to fix.Vulnerable to all types of plagues and assaults because we're just going with the flow.

I'm beginning to wonder if maybe somewhere in the programming, we got it wrong. If you teach a child to speak and spell incorrectly by using bad grammar in the home, how do you expect them to get better in school? And if they become teachers themselves? A new generation of bad speakers and spellers sending skewed signals throughout the schools. Until eventually lol and stfu are integrated into our social consciousness as "words". Are they words just because we say them and write them?

This is just another way to look at what religious teaching has done to cultures over time. If you've never played a game of telephone(one person gives a whispered message to the next, seeing if it will stay the same) then maybe you can't see how even written words could be misread, misused and misinterpreted. I tend to think over thousands of years, imperfect machines may mess it up. What makes humans any different?

For everyone who believes in anything.

Forgive Everyone Everything

I've recently made plans to return to the roots of my childhood.
No I'm not going back to live in Marblehead, though I wish I could afford to. No I won't be calling up old friends and seeing where they are now, though that might be nice. 

I've recently made plans to start storing up my negative energy again.

It has been a while since I could just blink and be full of such rage and power for whatever situation I was faced with. Bike riding for hours a day used to give me the endurance to be able to conjure up such wrath and emotion without warning. Physically I was faster, more alert and had more clarity when there was one road to walk, violently forward.

But now I think my plans will have to wait.

To be that person again means I can't let go. I can't let go of the slight offenses, the unkind words and gestures made by those I care about most. I can't let go of the disrespectful conversations that I overhear or the silent nights of wasted time. 

Dwelling in that anger was a childish thing, and I can no longer afford to be that person. Luckily for me it has always been a choice. So I will go farther back, and be the person I was before the anger and hate and rage. I will return to the kid who sang and danced for everything and forgot everything soon after. The kid who could forgive everyone everything.

One Line Magic

Much like cocaine, I've found my favorite feelings stem from one line, stumbled upon in the obscurity of observation. Barely heard, barely noticeable and just enough to peak the attention, peek behind the curtain, follow the tunnel. 

"Doesn't it make you feel better"
The beginning of my love for Nine Inch Nails.

Back when I had cable, back when MTV was about music, back when the MTV News would talk about relevant topics, they had a TV spot that would be all types of sounds and parts of songs that would end in the sung phrase "doesn't it make you feel better". I found out through some searching, not on-line since I had no computer back then, that it was part of a NIN song. The first song I heard was "Perfect Drug". From there came "Closer", "Deep" and many others. Until I finally found "March of the Pigs". All it was, all i wanted, was just one little line in a song that was completely different. And it was good. And I felt better. 

"Goodbye Lament"
The Re-Education by Grohl.

Being an avid Nirvana fan, watching MTV and seeing the man I recognized as the former drummer in a new band was cool. Getting the CD "The Colour and the Shape" was cooler. And then I heard a song, that I knew was Dave Grohl's voice. The radio station didn't say the name of the song or who it was by, but I knew the voice. I bought every single Foo Fighters CD that was available and searched for that song, to no avail. And then one day at Faneuil Hall in Boston, I came across a music store. It had such a wide selection I figured it had to be in here. After searching all Nirvana's CD's, all the Foo Fighter's live CD's and coming up empty I resorted to asking for help. I explained my issue and even sang the lines to the lady at the counter. She suggested maybe it was on a compilation album. Ever hear of a man named Tony Iommi? With that name in hand I found a way to download the song and I've been listening to metal ever since. Which led me to Probot, the Dave Grohl metal project. Which kept me looking around basing my searches on single artists instead of whole bands. One thing led to the next and now I have all of the Queens of the Stone Age albums and I'm working on finishing up the Eagles of Death Metal CD's. The most important thing I learned was to trust my favorite artists' favorites. 

Dig and you'll find gold. Skim the surface and you'll scrape mud.

Streets At Midnight

Walking these streets, these dangerous streets at midnight. Interacting with smokers looking for a light, thinking how I should have brought those matches. Addressing young ladies looking for a good time, asking where there can find people like me. I wish them good luck. Finding old friends in new bars, asking how they've been. I wonder how the world ever got on without me. I wonder how it gets on with me. I'm so very drawn to the life I no longer live. And yet I fit in the life I have. It is as though I can keep living this double life, as long as I don't tell myself it is happening. Live the life of want and the life of need simultaneous. Indeed I can but should I? Why not. Nothing has ever gotten in my way before. I don't suggest trying now. Walking these streets at midnight is easy, because I am the danger. And I am on my way home. Sleep tight.

Rain Walk

A good time to think is always when you're most distracted. Light becomes so important when Your vision is blurred. Little drops of liquid catching eyelids can cause the biggest diversion when footing, pace, stature and balance are goals to be maintained. It'd be easier to slow, but the longer you take the wetter you become. Sometimes it is best to accept the consequences and have them done.

We can be impressed with the impressive, mostly because we are told to be. Promotions, achievements, gold stars are all things that say "I did something worthy". Worthy of what? The last time I was truly impressed was by a dancer named Kassandra in a very unimpressive place. Her gold star was a twenty for showing up.

That would be our eventual ending, in this world of all inclusiveness. Everyone gets a trophy, everyone is special. Everyone is the best in their own way, best at being themselves. What if I was a better you than you? Can I win your title? Would I get your trophy? Can I compete for your life? If I lived up to all your expectations for yourself, I should get something for it right?

A wall full of gold stars on frames of strangers. With a placard above reading, "World's Best Dream thief" Stealing all those lives already being tossed away. Picking them up as I go like drops of rain.

Understanding Why

Today two young boys are late for school. But they are always late for school. They know all the names of the ladies in the front office of their elementary school, they know all the procedures that are involved in signing in and they almost never make it before first bell. A normal, everyday occurrence. 

But today, two boys are late for school.

They awoke to a frantic mother, launching around the project house they live in on their one way street. A lot of things around here are one way. Never their way. Rarely a good way. They ready themselves in the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen. Making their way through the normal routine. And as in part of the routine, they are not completely ready when the bus comes, so it passes them by. 

This day, like many others, the clothes they were to wear were not dry. Either by rain or merely not being hung up in time the night before, they had no clothes to wear that morning. Underwear in the oven, cooking to a soggy warmth they would sit in for hours. The only solace being the dark colored denim over it. A fate they knew and expected by now. The sort of thing you deal with when you are always late.

On this day, like many others, the TV was on and cartoons were playing. Being a young boy at home and already late, you begin to fall into a slower momentum knowing you cannot catch that bus, or reset that alarm. You slow down and just glide through. Maybe you would eat a bigger breakfast, or sit to watch some cartoons as your pants dried on a kitchen chair. Habits just reinforce with time, and this was the habit. Slowing down. 

On this slow morning, two poor boys were late to school. Sitting in the parlor, watching cartoons, waiting for clothes that were unknowingly ready, teeth UN-brushed, bags unpacked, simply sitting. The frantic mother rolled in. And stopped. Upon further inspection she notices the unclothed boys, UN-brushed teeth and unpacked bags. She leaves the room. She returns with an old black cable cord wrapped in her fingers. She stands the boys up. And she threatens to beat the fuck out of them with it. 

On days like this your mind stops to record the world around you. It takes note of the salmon pink window blinds drawn down so no one can see inside, the dark tile on the cold floor that offers no sense of comfort if you were to land on it, the thin cotton garments that cannot shield you or offer any protection, the empty sounds of screams reverberating from the walls of the sizable room. The complete irony of being held accountable for habits impressed upon you. Held accountable by your oppressor.

On this typically slow morning, two poor boys pleaded for their skin. For the first time, and most likely the last. They screamed and sobbed and yelled for help and screamed some more. Tears running down their partially clothed bodies, making stains no one would notice in the rest of the day. A terrified look in their eyes that no one would see in class. Stuck in a one way life that no one else had a clue about, and wouldn't believe if they were told.

On this day, these two boys were not beaten, but they were not spared. They were not hurt, but they were injured. At least one was. At least one left the house that morning irrevocably scarred. At least one left that house with an unshakable knowledge of what violence was, and what violence could do. At least one of them has never had to beg for his skin again. He watches and waits for the patterns and habits to return. He slinks back like a snake and waits for the moment. The moment where the threat begins. And he strikes first.

Violence begets violence.

Moving Forward Means Leaving Something Behind

If you watch something grow over a long enough period, you'll see it has changed. Trees don't become longer, taller sprouts. They gain leaves, bark, roots. They ditch their protective shells and emerge into something that needs a lot less protecting. They grow a tough outer skin that regenerates over the seasons. They grow shade giving leaves that also regrow after animals use them for food and shelter. They start small and become something larger, self-reliant. They become more useful over time because they let go of the things holding them back. 
Like caterpillars outgrowing the slither and squirm stage and becoming free floating butterflies. They shed their old selves and become something better.

If bugs can do it instinctively, then why don't humans catch on so naturally? Why do humans dwell on the past and let it stop them from moving forward? Forgive and forget. Said so often it must be a good idea. We love it when people forgive us, and when they forget our mistakes but we feel obligated or even justified in holding them to theirs. Like a paperweight on a notepad we feel like it is our duty to hold someone grounded in their past and former selves. How can you grow from that?

You can't. You cannot be a better person and hold onto bitterness. Sorry, not gonna happen. I don't care what it is, you do not get a free pass on "I got hurt" street. As though your pain or your struggle was the most dire struggle in the world. Even worse is when you talk to people who have moved on and survived from ACTUAL trauma and horrific lives, the first thing they tell you is how they had to let it go and move on. Whole countries of people moving on from terrible, preventable things like war and genocide, all saying the same thing. Move on and grow from there.

But we don't like to do that. We have an asshole card we like to pull in sticky situations, usually when faced with our own shit. We pull the card and go,"remember when you did this? that's why i'm being a dick now. because of back then. this is my reasoning. this is my revenge." That's cool. As long as you realize and admit to yourself and others that you are in fact, a dick/bitch/asshole and there isn't any REAL reason other than your disability. Yes, bitterness is a disability. Being unable to emotionally mature and grow past a certain point because of a stubborn, pigheaded nature sure sounds like something they'll be making drugs for soon. Might wanna jump on that train early. I know a few people in need of a prescription asap.

Define Brother

A male that has the parent or parents as another. One who shares a common ancestry or allegiance. One who is there when you need him.  

Last night me and my brothers walked into a situation to help some other brothers. The brothers I was with knew the brothers we were seeing, but no one knew they weren't being brothers when we got there. One fought to save his brother, the other fought him to save face. The brothers my brothers were trying to help were the best kind of brothers. Brothers who could do anything if only they would do it together. Just like me and my brother.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Male vs Female Part 1

Equality means nothing in the realm of gender. To measure the differences and similarities between two objects, there needs to be common ground. Even apples and oranges have enough characteristics to compare significantly. They are both generally round fruit with an outer skin that keeps the softer guts in and both can be pressed into juice. People, not so easy. 

Sure we are humans, so all the basic similarities are there. But it isn't our bodies that make humans so special, it is more our minds and emotional states that give us our spice. Many would argue men are stronger than women, but then there's the argument for childbirth and the pain females can endure. A counter argument would be the disproportion of police involvement in a physical domestic struggle between a man and a woman. The man always being seen as the aggressor even when the woman is seen doing the hitting. 

Then there is the situation that brought about this line of thinking today. What do guys and girls want in the world? I've heard girls answer; a good man, good woman, more shoes, more money, nice house, servants, a crown, everything etc... basically everything and anything they've ever dreamed possible. Typical man answer? Nice car and a hot girlfriend(s). 

Why is this? Is it because men only think about sex all day and that's all that is important? Maybe. 

As a guy, I can tell you that from day one I was told one thing. A man should be strong, self reliant and a gentleman. From that piece of advice i should be able to provide for myself, cook, clean and be a generally good guy right? Add to that the education speech and the bit about the importance of family and what do you have? A complete person. 

Then the sky opens and your hormones fire up and suddenly you notice the differences between you and women. They're naturally softer, smaller, smell nicer sometimes. And suddenly your mind wonders where to put these strange creatures that seem to be taking up more and more of your time. Why do they plague you and what are they good for? Anyone who knows how to organize knows there is a place for everything, so what is their place? 

Fortunately today we (most of us) know better than to try and determine someone else's spot especially across gender lines, but it would seem if you as a man can be everything you need then what else do you need? Sex. Once you have it you find it is what you've been missing. Ya know unless its awful, then you might want to try it again to get an improvement. Like rolling the dice you win some you lose some. can't win unless you play though. 

So in a perfect world, men and women are sentient beings who don't need either party unless it is for companionship right? Naw no thanks. 

Once you get past the human thing and get into the hearts and minds, men and women are miles apart. I blame emotions. They hit hard and always mean something even when it seems they come from nowhere. Men are told to suppress while women are told to express. After 16 years of that, no wonder we find it hard to see eye to eye. We've been growing apart since pink and blue. 

So back to the point. If women want a lot of things in a man it is probably because they want a lot of things in life. Girls just want to have fun right? They want to have new experiences and make memories and live a full life. Men want to get laid. Women may judge a man by his job, his house, his car, his hair, his clothes, his appearance, his hobbies, his demeanor, his past and his perceived future. A man may judge you on your appearance and desire to lay him. 

::shrug:: Worse shit has happened. Granted it is a sliding scale based on looks and ability depending on the first girl he ever had sex with. But it is still a pretty simple way to find a mate. Easier than having to google her life before deciding whether you'll date her or not. 

I never understood why girls would get offended by this. It's like a pass fail course. Either you want to sleep with us or not, drop a small bit of info why on your way out and keep it moving. Men can get conversation and companionship from friends, family and assorted pets. You can have roommates that cook and clean, or if you have the funds pay people to. But sex is something that is said to be shared between people and it is supposed to be special and all that stuff. It brings babies, keeps you feeling young, gives you a good workout and feels great. Sounds like a wonderful way to pick a life partner. Just saying.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Shot in the Dark

Walking onto an empty stage is easy, when there is no one in the audience. 

The moment you see someone watching your body changes inside, even if it is just a little change. You tense a little, straighten up a little. You focus on the fact that someone is taking notice of what you're doing. 

If it were past tense, it would be less of a problem. Being watched on film can unnerve you the same way, but you can always close your eyes or leave. Separate yourself from the situation, distract yourself from what they are thinking because it already happened and that gives it a distance.

On stage the distance is measurable. And strangely miles are worse than inches. Up close you can be sure of what they see. See their eyes, see their reactions. But from afar you cannot tell where they are looking, just that they are looking. 

So you call out. Ask them what they hear. 

"Can you hear me?"

Reply or not you have your answer. So you speak up.

"CAN you HEAR me?"

Self expression is all about angles. How light hits a photograph and the objects in it. How a camera catches a figure or movement. How air or force form a note. How people can see or hear through a medium. In self expression, the key is where you are when you do what you do. Whether in the crowd or above or below, millions strong or face to face, it all depends on where you are when you do what you do. And if you do it the right way, you should never have to ask.