… And here I am, my heart breaking, forced to glitter, forced to be gay! I DESPISE writing. Don’t you just love this hook?
For someone who is so unabashedly opinionated, I really can’t stand putting pen to paper. Or rather my freshly manicured glossy red claws to keyboard. Perhaps it’s simply a personal preference or perhaps it’s years of song and spoken word that have made me a sycophant for physical and verbal expression. But any way you cut it, not my medium of choice.
As I countdown the last few days of my 30th year, I have some (really evolved and important) thoughts I want to share. If you made it past the photos of me making love to the camera while splayed out in a million layers of tulle, then thank you! I’ll do my best not to bore you to death with this article.
This seems like a good time to divulge:
- My name is Sarah and I absolutely HATE attention. Please don’t stop me on the street when you recognize me, I’m really shy. I absolutely loathe compliments, melodrama and having my photo taken.
- I’m an Opera Singer, Actor, Comedienne, Model, Sexy goofball, Diva & Interdisciplinary Artist based in Manhattan.
If you made it to my second point, I’m sure you gathered that the first was a big ol’ lie. I’m sorry, I had to be sure you were paying attention.
I experienced quite a bit of writer’s block drafting this article. I crack myself up because I have the audacity at 30 having never truly written an Op-Ed of any kind, to throw my hands up in exasperation and declare unsuitable writing conditions. And you know what? That’s my right as a Diva. My article, my rules! I could get used to this…
My Prima Donna thought process goes a little something like this “You mean to tell me that I woke up from a hundred year slumber, painstakingly styled my hair and applied my makeup, curated my wardrobe, posed for the photos (and ate), and after all that I STILL have to compose an articulate, intriguing and witty take on my artistry and the world at large!? The world is never enough for you people!”
Alas, I shall persevere. So here’s me venturing into the written word. I’ll keep it brief, or will I? Nothing kills the mood like too much exposition!
I thoroughly enjoy being a mystery. Two of my most (un)favorite questions I’ve ever received remain “What’s your fach?”(If you know, you know.) and “What’s your type?”
God, how depressing is that? Please wrap all of your artistry and humanity up into one teeny tiny answer so I know how to categorize you and make money off of you. We see it everywhere as artists. Grant application questions asking you to categorize your project from a drop down menu, instagram requiring you to choose one word bio descriptors, tired character breakdowns with vocal and acting ranges that read like instruction manuals.
A very wise person once told me that humans have an affinity for fitting everything into a simple little box. If we can categorize it, then we can understand it and therefore accept it. I empathize with the fervent need to process and designate. Now more than ever, answers, particularly good ones, feel like the first drop of rain after a year-long drought. But I wonder if this survivalist tendency we’ve been forced to sustain is robbing us of the artistic ingenuity and freedom we so desperately need right now. Which brings me to the climax of my soapbox speech. Can you imagine the ecstasy we would all feel from being uncategorized?
The Dream, I hear you ask? Follow every impulse, chase every rainbow. (I know, I know.) I want to bring every idea to life. Change us from a “what do you do?” to a “why do you do?” type of world one project at a time. To challenge the confines of traditional programming. Is it possible? Who knows! But I’m sure as hell going to try! Who says a performance art piece where I sing Vissi D’arte and do all my best Family Guy impressions while reading palms in front of a live screening of Tombstone can’t change the world? Don’t even try to steal this piece, it’s already copyrighted. If by trying (and maybe failing), I can inspire even one person to challenge the status quo, it all will have been worth it.
As artists, we display our highest highs and lowest lows for the public. We showcase the human experience to help others process theirs. It’s a beautiful dichotomy that leaves us exhilarated, full and utterly exhausted. I’ve come to not only appreciate but deeply cherish the privacy that comes from people knowing my artistic persona while keeping the artist herself under the veil. Albeit, that veil is a lacy, embroidered mosaic with satin trimming and rhinestone detail but a veil nonetheless. It screams look at me, but not too closely and never through me.
Back to KARJAKA.
What I love about these photos is the high contrast, the hard and the soft all at once. Sounds like one of my performances, no? How you feel like the subject of my gaze but my intent remains a mystery. It’s as if he read my mind… I’m honestly a little annoyed at it. How dare he capture my essence so perfectly?
However, you’re only as close as I want you to be. There’s that veil. During our session, Aleks would push me to give him more. He told me I’d get to 88% and then pull away. And he’s right. It was a conscious choice to protect the last scrap of secrecy separating the art from the artist. But that last little bit is where the real magic lies. The most legendary and idolized artists of all time were the ones who left every ounce of themselves on the stage: Callas, Carlin, and Coltrane to name a few. Aleks’s window into my self-assured mystique and enigmatic aura quite honestly strips me of it and lays me bare. That brilliant bastard. He got that 12% and I didn’t even know it.
I figured I might as well throw my hat in the ring and stake my claim on some of that precious percentage. So I’m coming out of retirement (having never started in the first place) to write about it. Because I can’t let him have all the glory, damnit! And yet, would I ever have volunteered that last bit of hidden magic without a little push? We’ll never know. But the beauty of it all is the enduring testament of collaboration.
Perhaps at one time or another, we’ve all been the artist pushing or being pushed. “Am I seducing or being seduced?” Thank you Robert Smith. Imagine a world where we’re all acting as both. Artists for ourself and others simultaneously, allowing ourselves and others to create with total commitment and reckless abandon. I believe that’s the art that will be just as delicious to indulge in as it is to create. If this stubborn Cancerian crustacean can be the first domino to fall, I’m eager to see and support other creatives in their endeavors and celebrate the fruits of our collective labor.
