Late Thoughts on Fame

Tonight I read fiction at a performance space not far from the East River in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I read two fiction slivers I wrote last summer during my birthday week. Writing them and the others that came that week was supposed to keep me from feeling anxious about my birthday, and I think it worked. On the bill tonight (the theme was collaboration), among others, were some women who I would have long admired and that I would even call famous,a cinematographer, who I know personally (and whose film she screened was unbelievable, amazing), and a performance artist/dancer/circus emcee, who is one of my personal heroes. (Other performances: a trapeze artist performing with a bearded singing drummer, the host and curator dancing with her friend in San Francisco via Skype, film, and more dance. I've posted the pics here.) It thrilled me to be sharing a stage with these women (much like it did to read with Lara in Dec of 2010), and it made me remember that I have long dreamed (since I was a kid, actually) for some kind of fame, which is odd, because I also am uncomfortable in the spotlight and can be annoyingly (I'm told) self-effacing. I've been wondering what fame would look like on me, and if it was something I'd enjoy. I do know that I loved reading my fiction into a microphone for an assembled audience of mostly strangers in an interesting venue (with an awesome deejay. The Modern Lovers were played during the intermission.) Also, speaking of Fame, it's the super duper famous David Bowie's birthday today. And it's also the one week anniversary of this blog--Thank you to the famous Lara--for your collaboration.