[She had worked on this piece for the last two-and-a-half years, with her sister-in-law and her husband, who were also art makers of their own unique personalities & styles. At the time of her performance, people left; a room that was more than half full suddenly became empty. No one stayed because nobody had heard of her name before. They were not sure if it would be worth the while for them to stay.]

Shadows do exist even on a sunny day. Although we appreciate the vibrant art/dance scenes in Seattle, we have observed some of their murky sides – some have been resulted from people’s lack of care. By pointing out and reflecting on these aspects, even though they are not pleasant, we hope that it will bring to people’s attention how to better foster an art community and how to support artists all around us. The closer we stay together as a group and the more we are able to give each other our support, the stronger and happier our future will be.

– Their cold, indifferent faces, when they turned away without considering.
No, we didn’t offer them our support completely without expecting some forms of appreciation or acknowledgment, but it was a draw of friendship and companionship that had connected us in the first place.

– They said they were busy and that they had other things to attend, and that
our room was too hot, too stifling, and too small. There was something more
important – something that would make a better use of their time.

A. What do cliques want/seek/try to achieve?
Safety. Security. Confidence. Self-esteem. Pride. Sense of Belonging. Sense of Superiority. Bigger than one drop in the sea. Working together like a man-of-war, which is not actually an animal but a bunch of colonies/organisms working together. They cannot survive alone but are still their own organism, not one part of a body but one worker bee in the hive. Buzzzzzzzzz.

– There was no point for those people to stay for an event except for when they made their own very significant appearance. They were of a higher class. They were obligated to so many performances and occasions, that they even struggled making time to build their network of celebrities and important associates. They didn’t have time for a nice, cool sip of Chardonnay in the sunlight of a late afternoon. “What do you want!!?” they asked.

– They thought that they were the best of all, and that the others should evolve around them. That’s how they self-prove their importance; by ignoring the needs of the others, they showed that their needs were of a higher priority. No – they had absolutely no responsibility to take care the needs of the other people. They were not the ones in debt – we were. We, as a world, owed them – big.

B. How do you distinguish a clique from a group of friends?
Sense of superiority. Exclusivity. Lack of open friendliness. No eye contact. Closed hearts. Our way or the highway. A group of friends is happy to expand. It says, “hi! What are you all about? Want a drink? a laugh? an idea? a conversation?” If you are a shy outsider, you are made to feel warm and welcome. You are allowed to be shy and to blossom at the slowest pace you like. Cliques expect you to enter at their level of familiarity and comfort, if at all.

– After they performed for an hour with everyone in the room supporting their
process, they couldn’t spare half an hour to see other people’s work. They walked out without saying goodbye.

– I guess showing your curiosity on an artist who is less worthy is degrading
and embarrassing, especially in front of your friends. Or – maybe it is just too pointless and too boring, not compatible to your intelligence and sophistication.

[The Ridicule of Cannon]

In the beginning there were 12 artists in the room, lined up for an evening of open mic.

The first artist, Joe, went up and played a love song. The monitor of the sound didn’t work well and there was buzz and interruption when he sang. Joe left right after his singing.

The second artist, Amanda, went up and sang a song about her travel two months ago and her ex-lover. The color of her lipstick was full of burgundy passion.

The third artist, Deniva, showed a dance of beans and lights. She and the Amanda left the room after the dance.

The fourth artist, Jeff, came with the group of his artist friends. In their group, Chris was the birthday star. They were visiting Seattle from South California. Jeff sang with his deep, heart-felt voice like a long stream of water calmly flowing over the soft side of the river bed.

The fifth artist, Eric, played a song that he wrote with a ukulele. After that, he played another song that was popularly loved by his fans. He walked to the back side of the room and settle down by a high table after his play.

The sixth artist, Lynn, sang two songs with her beautiful, long-projecting voice that seemed to softly penetrate and weave in and out of the fabrics of the curtains.

The seventh artist, Chris, was the birthday star from the South California. He worked as a tech in a corporation in the day time and played music and wrote songs in the evenings. He sang a song about the adventure, discovery and his learning in the journey as he travelled through the middle America. Jeff, Lynn, Chris and their friend left after Chris’ play; they were heading to a big wild celebration for Chris.

The eighth artist, Gail, had a reading of her poem that gave a good kick and gear-switching to the audience’s brain after two hours of music. The poem was simple and cut open another imaginary space in the room. Gail was an event organizer for the evening; she invited everyone to stay for the circle-up after the open mic.

The ninth artist, Jeanne, and her wizardly percussionist, Mark, performed two songs that were purple, effervescent, heart-trembling, and linked to an untamed mysterious desire and drive. Jeanne and Mark left after their songs.

The tenth artist, Andrew, was in his self-made cloak and Indian-styled long boots. He sang two songs accompanies with hand bells. The second song was nonchalant and soothing as if someone had sung after a meditative ritual. Andrew, after his songs, quickly walked out of the room into the bright sunlight of the late evening.

The eleventh artist, Pavel, had a gentle and timid manner on stage. He performed three songs that he wrote with deep layers of hope and longing. His voice was so warm and calming, that one had to lean forward to get a fuller wash of his subterranean emotion surge and to get more out of this subtle daintiness. He and his friend left soon after.

The twelfth artist, Cooper, were left in the room with Gail and Eric in the end of the evening. They smiled at each other. While Gail and Cooper were the two event organizers, Eric was the new comer. Gail and Cooper welcomed Eric and told Eric that they were happy he enjoyed the evening, and that all the artists had the chance to perform and to share their art with each other.

Print Friendly