Something so raw and visceral that is art, an expression that has no start, nor end, but an at-present feeling. No records, no videos, just, now. I sit here absorbing the sight and sound of a 'performing artist', as vague as that description can be. I sit, absorb, recoil, resist, recline with a sinking feeling of anxiety and intense insanity crawling up my bowed spine. My hurt ears suggest my lack of belonging and yet I stay seated.
