Work in progress

Hello friends.

I am in the thick of it. Opening our new work in progress show on Friday, which is always a peculiar mix of terror and thrill and humiliation and pride -- clearly a mix of emotions I'm drawn to though every time we hit this part of the process I question my devotion to the art form, and question my judgment and mental health and clarity in general. You've got to be a bit of a masochist to embrace showing your work when it is purposefully -- nay, DEFIANTLY -- undone. I guess this fits in with my theme of late, thwarting perfectionism, but damn is it hard. And not for everyone.

Yesterday was actually not too bad -- we were all so tired we hit the slap happy zone which was a blessing. That's the only way to handle the extreme stress of a room full people all trying to weave their separate threads into a beautiful crazy quilt at light speed in 36 hours.

If only I could enter that slap happy zone every time I reached the exhaustion point! You just never know when your sleep deprivation will lead you down a path of giggling silly dancing stupor and when it will send you crashing into furniture or crying over a burrito that is not to your liking or snapping I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING in response to someone's concern over your mishandling of an electric drill.

All imaginary examples.

Anyway: we're always writing and rewriting the show constantly up to the last minute which means we never run it fully until 3-4 days before we open (which is pretty stressful for the actors and the director but REALLY stressful for all the designers and tech crew we work with). I've experienced this vertigo countless times in the last ten years, so at least when I feel that panic I can call it what it is instead of associating it with the show itself and with doom and failure and self-doubt.

I know that the day before we run the show in full (and sometimes the day after) I always ALWAYS have a crisis of faith (double meaning acknowledged) and think that this time we're going to crash and burn. And every single time it pulls together in the days after that, and the show may vary and we may want to change 75% of it, but it will be a show. And I can remember the worst case scenarios, and recognize that this scenario is a much better one and rationally know that it's going to be fine.

Still, every time that peculiar, gaping fear hits me: that we will stumble blindly about the stage in un-unified chaos until we shuffle and mumble off the stage leaving the audience in stunned, horrified silence. And every time I console myself by saying this has never come to pass. (Unless we wanted it to).

It's never come to pass... YET.

Because that is the thing: for all my confidence based on past experiences, every time the terror is fresh, because every time could be the first time it's ever happened. Maybe THIS is the one we can't pull off!

Anyway. I could go on all day about it. But we've pulled above the clouds now, we've reached cruising speed. I think this sucker can fly. I once was blind but now I see. I believe the children are the future. You gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em. Etc.

Perfectionism in Space

So as you know, perfectionism and the way it can stop you in your cold, dead tracks (did I just mix metaphors or invent a new one?) has been on my mind.

Then today I came across this post on IttyBiz which basically nails what I in my meandering way have been trying to get across. The topic is starting an online business (something else I’ve been edging towards in my sidelong fashion), but it is equally applicable to creating a solo performance, making art with a group of people, marketing your work… basically any activity you might do, alone or with others. Well almost any activity. Let’s keep this clean, people.

I love this section:

Let me put this another way: In my experience, if you want to do business online, you’re going to have to be willing to do your thing to the best of your ability even if it doesn’t feel like you’ve defined yourself and your value proposition and your website perfectly enough yet. You’re going to have to accept that the way you’re doing things in six months may well be totally different from the way you’re doing them now. You’ll need to realize that just because you’re writing about how much you love explosive pies today, you may be organizing courses to train explosive pie disposal units in half a year. That has to be okay with you. You have to go with your gut, and go where the market seems to be taking you. You have to let your voice and your method of operation evolve with time.

This really gets to the heart of the quandary: what I’m working on is always far from “done” but I have to put it out there sometime. Ready or not. And I have to be okay with what people say, knowing that they will be legitimate to criticize it for not being fully realized. And in fact, that is the only way it can grow into its strongest, fullest form – by putting it out there. Before it’s perfect. Because if you wait until it’s perfect, you’ve waited too long.

This is the course Hand2Mouth has always followed, and that I have followed as a solo performer. It’s how I’ve learned everything that really matters as a performer and creator and (god help me) marketer. But it’s still hard to do, and hard to articulate.

God, speaking of marketing – I have such a love / hate relationship with it.

I’m trying to think of “marketing” as another creative outlet, a positive thing, an HONEST thing. On the love side I’ve got this and this and this to back me up. On the hate side: this (more on that here).

Maybe I should follow Havi’s lead and come up with a new term for the m-word (she calls it biggification) so I don’t feel like a sleazeball who’s trying to autohypnotize people.

Could I call it creative describing? That’s a terrible name. Creative telling?

What it comes down to is: telling people what you do in a way that condenses it and gets the feeling across. Right? Especially important for H2M since we can’t invite everyone to just come to a rehearsal and watch how we work (not that we haven’t tried), and there aren’t too many influences we can link ourselves to that people instantly recognize (saying our influences are Forced Entertainment, the Wooster Group, Teatr Usta Usta and Radiohole often leads to neverending explanation which is not the best way to communicate excitement and adventure). (not to be confused with The Neverending Story which IS the best way to communicate excitement and adventure).

How about creative space & time travel? Hello, I am the director of creative space & time travel. No, it’s too bulky. Creative communication? Well that kind of says it, doesn’t it? I’d still like to work space and time in there somehow though. Creative interdimensional communication?

Oh, as you may have guessed I’m in the midst of “creatively communicating” the new work-in-progress H2M show, Uncanny Valley (talk about being comfortable putting your work out there in an unfinished state). That probably explains why I want to work time & space into my marketing. The number one thing this show has taught me is that any concept, any theory, any activity of any kind, is VASTLY improved upon when launched into space.

Well. As often happens I’ve gotten off track. I’ll have more later on the many angles of perfectionism. And space. And creative interdimensional communication. And possibly my neglected little business plan.

Battling Perfectionism

I think of myself as a recovering perfectionist. The clearest insight I had about this came when I was seeing a therapist two years ago (back when I could afford the luxury of mental health) and told her that I struggled with perfectionism, but not really, because actually I wasn’t doing anything well enough to qualify as a perfectionist.

Wait, she said. So what you’re telling me is you would be a perfectionist if you could just do things a little more perfectly?

Well… yes.

Yeah, that still counts as perfectionism.

Because I was going through my actions as if there were a level of perfection that it was possible to achieve. Because I was comparing myself to mythical people (or the real people around me who I was remaking in my head as more perfect beings) and finding myself lacking. Because I was beating myself up all the time for not doing things the right way, the better way, the more thorough way, the more organized way. The perfect way.

So that Perfectionism -- damn, is she a tricky beast. She invades your thinking without you even realizing it. One day you’re taking notes at a company meeting, the next day you’re hunched at your computer taking an extra thirty minutes to get the font right so people can read it, the next day you’re taking an extra hour to organize everyone’s action items at the top of the notes even though nobody reads them (of course there’s a nice dose of Martyr / Victim Complex that always seems to crop up alongside Perfectionism. They’re sort of like that mean girl in elementary school and her super sweet best friend).

(Wait, except Peppermint Patty isn’t really a perfectionist, is she? Well, you get the idea.)

Anyway, in my epic struggles to not let Perfectionism boss me around, I have found a few techniques helpful:

• Leaping into things before I’m fully prepared -- leaping past that urge to be “prepared enough” (which is impossible) by jumping in when I know that I am in fact not fully prepared. A sort of “fuck you” to perfectionism.

• Laughing at the things I have done perfectly and not taking their supposed perfection seriously. As in: look at these amazing gleaming golden NOTES I took at the company meeting. Aren’t they perfect? Aren’t they an incredible shining example of what notes should be?

• Admitting right away when I don’t know how to do something or think I may have done it wrong. In effect, thwarting that perfectionist desire to know everything and hide all failure by being openly, publicly honest about my mistakes and what I don’t know.

• Remembering that a completed imperfect task matters more than a task that comes in late because I needed to know more, prepare more, edit more, etc.

Caveat: one undesired outcome of these techniques is that I sometimes overcompensate and use this as an excuse to NOT PREPARE. Which is not the same thing at all, and only gives the Inner Perfectionist fodder for telling me what an incompetent, lazy, unbaked fool I am. No: the trick is to prepare -- to take things seriously -- but to also leap in no matter what when leaping is called for.

I must admit, though, there is one aspect of Perfectionism I haven’t yet figured out how to handle, and that is other perfectionists.

Again I turn to Peanuts for inspiration. Of course Peppermint Patty isn't the Perfectionist, it's freaking LUCY! Watch, she's basically my Inner Perfectionist in cartoon form, and Charlie Brown is her poor misguided Martyr / Victim aka my SENSITIVE SOUL:

In the same way that recovering alcoholics find the company of practicing alcoholics to be the most challenging, and in the same way that recovering alcoholics can’t expect other people to change their drinking habits -- I have to figure out how to interact with people who display perfectionist tendencies, without giving in to perfectionism myself and without expecting them to change.

Because maybe they don’t have a problem with perfectionism. Maybe it works for them. I imagine that some people take great comfort and pride in their drive for perfection. In fact a lot of things in this world would not exist were it not for perfectionists. So I’m not knocking it. But for me it’s toxic.

So what I need to figure out is how to tolerate other people’s desire for attaining perfection, without letting it trigger my own toxic desires. It’s pretty tricky. Maybe I need to find the equivalent of AA for Perfectionists.

Hello. My name is Faith Helma, and I am a perfectionist. It’s been three days since I gave in to a desire to be perfect. (Ok, fine: three hours) (Ok you got me, I am actually obsessively editing this post RIGHT NOW. Fine, I’ll just post it.)

There you go.

Inspirations

I know I talked recently about being inspired by bad art, but that doesn’t mean I’m not inspired by good art too.

I want to mention some awesome things that have been inspiring me. BLOGGY STYLE.

Jenny the Bloggess and her funny ass descriptions of social panic and confidence wigs. Oh my god, I love her so much I want to show you her picture:


And speaking of social panic, I love this post over at Mommy Melee about freaking out at BlogHer. I love it when people are honest about their struggles with high pressure social situations. It’s always a surprise when you hear it from someone else.

You’re like, “what? But you have your shit together and you’re so articulate!” And they’re like, “what are you talking about, I’m having a panic attack right now!” And you’re like, “wow, that’s the classiest panic attack I’ve ever seen!”

I think that’s a beautiful thing for us neurotic introverts to aspire to: classy panic attacks. It worked for Greta Garbo.


Other inspiring things:

Shiva Nata, this crazy kind of yoga I heard about through Havi Brooks over at Fluent Self. I’ve been practicing it most mornings for the last five months (give or take a few weeks where I got frustrated and dropped it altogether) and though it is many times bewildering and seemingly pointless, I totally credit it with getting my mind out of a dark place post-NYC in August, and changing some of my habits without me even thinking about it. Of course I still have a lot of bad habits I’d like to get rid of, so that I can be a gleaming golden ice bodied icon of perfection. But my brain probably realizes that would actually be horrible. And honestly: the number one habit that trips me up lately is Perfectionism. Oh perfectionism, you cold-eyed, diabolical taskmistress. That is a topic for another day.

But let’s move on and talk about a lovely taskmistress: Dooce! This was the first blog I ever got hooked on. Whenever I check in on Dooce, I feel like I’m catching up with my cousin or something. And more often than not there is something that makes me laugh out loud, and then my husband looks over and I say, “Dooce poured bacon fat into a plastic bowl and melted it!” and he gets that concerned/horrified look on his face that means he thinks I’m spending too much time on the internet (he does not believe in using the internet for anything except finding artist residencies in Berlin. I think he thinks Dooce is my imaginary friend. Which... wouldn’t be all that far off, I guess, since we certainly aren’t real life friends). Anyway, I just love Dooce.

Jeff Hylton Simmons’ internet radio station. I just met this dude a few months ago and of course because this is Portland it turns out he knows every third person I know. He’s got broadcasts from people all over the world. Big dreams, big ideas. It's awesome.

And one more thing before I say goodnight, dear internet: the ultimate inspiration. I can remember my brother sitting rapt, 4 years old, in front of the TV watching this performance of Michael Jackson on the Grammys in 1988. I DON'T CARE, I CAN'T GET CYNICAL ABOUT MICHAEL JACKSON! I just can't.