Last week one of my videos was used in a mashup that I was not consulted about by the person who made the mashup. I was upset about not being consulted. And, well, I’m not shy about expressing my opinions.
I write and make art about things that people used to get burned at the stake as witches over. I have performed hourlong, autobiographical solo shows about mental illness. More than once after my show I stood at the theater door, for 2 hours, twice as long as the show was, while, one by one, people from the audience queued up to speak to me privately about things people like themselves or a loved one (and I) are supposed to feel stigmatized and ashamed about.
That secrecy still makes me sad, which is why I blog as a mentally ill peer and make most of my social media posts public. I have nothing to hide and people who are interested in what I’m saying shouldn’t feel obligated to be open about and or “friend” me.
Theater is collaborative. I am grateful for my 20 years in it. But I am a solo artist now with probably not much more than 20 years left. I intend to spend my last years doing my own thing my own way, answering to noone. That’s the way it is.