"And you think: ‘This is the song I have always had inside of me. This is the thing just waiting to come out. My unrealized potential. The part of me that makes me special, which justifies the ugly parts of me. This thing inside of me, this talent, this idea, innate charisma, good genes, this special goodness. I have this thing and it makes up for everything else. It’s different, it distinguishes me. It transcends the rest of me, my body. It is my soul. My gift. It’s what makes me me. It makes me immortal, it will never die, it will always be there.’
So that’s what you think. And you want to keep it to yourself, but you know you can’t. Not forever. You know that in order to believe in it, to keep believing in it you have to say it out loud, to someone, in some way. You have to know the sound of it to keep remembering and believing and in order to maintain that faith, you’ve just GOTTA let it out. You’ve got too much light, you’ve just got to LET IT SHINE. And so when you go inside to find that light, when you get up on stage to let it out, when you turn on the television it is yeah it is really a big disappointment when you realize that nothing is there. You remember that that thing does not exist. And how wonderful this is, yeah supposedly supposed to be. Wonderful, and it is.”
“How would I even begin to create the paradox of masculinity in a naked body with a vulva? Can dance even be masculine? How badly do I need my movement to seem ‘masculine?’ Why do I care so much about how people will see me? In the end, we came up with a sense of speaking for the possibility, not the problems of what we are. I got to be bigger than the questions. As awesome as that is, it is still a daily struggle.”—The awesome Becca Blackwell, interviewed by the Village Voiceabout performing in Young Jean Lee’s UNTITLED FEMINIST SHOW.