31. Presentation Report
I should mention the knife play workshop I did this weekend. May and Dee have assured me that it went well. My initial reaction was that it was terrible, but after I managed to calm down and think about that for a little while, I realized I was being dramatic and worrisome. It was a solid presentation. It could have gone better, but it was by no means terrible.
It’s very difficult to recall a presentation once it’s gone from our heads into the ether of collective consciousness. It’s a situation a little like the worst parts of constructive criticism combined: an incredibly tendency toward negative feedback, and absolutely no chance to re-draft. It’s over, it’s done. I’m not satisfied with the outcome, and I have to go off and live with that obsessive perfectionist griping.
I think the makings of a stellar presentation are somewhere in the work I did this weekend, but I didn’t manage to access that this Saturday. I delivered something solid, decent, and raw. Had I been walking into Conversio Virium or a Floating World class, a place I felt comfortable and confident, maybe I could have bridged that gap and really made an excellent show of things.
Unfortunately, I don’t feel comfortable here in the Sydney scene at the moment. For many reasons, most of which are my own: that kink is taking a backseat to my career jumpstarting, that May and I have become increasingly private in our play, that we are focusing on each other almost exclusively. That I still, still, still feel awful and off-balance when I meet new people, that I still feel socially like an actress playing a role that doesn’t fit quite right. That I am lonely. That I miss the community I know and the friends I’m entwined with, and the scene here sometimes makes that worse instead of better. And that I’m having to fight the battles I thought I’d finished long ago, all over again.
I hate going backward in my life. In every other way, this move has been a great leap forward. My career is stronger, my relationship is better, my psyche is thriving. But in social spaces, and especially in scene spaces, I feel like I’ve been knocked back ten steps.
And more frustrating than the feeling of being knocked back is the logical part of my brain that just keeps on asking: Why do I care? Why should I?
