Hi y’all. It feels so good to be in this space with you again. I’ve realized that in cultivating this writing practice every week, I’ve begun to look forward to the time when I get to sit down to think, reflect, and write to you. If you’re new here, my name is Tatiana and I’m a multidisciplinary theater/filmmaker. I have a company where I make/develop new performance-based work called Experimental Bitch Presents. You can read more about us and what we do at our website www.ExperimentalBitchPresents.com.
We’re nearing the end of Experimental Bitch’s 2020 season and with it brings a potent mix of emotions. My therapist would point out that I am averse to moments of being in between, at the nexus of one thing ending and the next beginning. Gig-based arts workers will tell you that our livelihood and career often depends on juggling multiple projects at once; a necessary reality to keeping our work steady. Usually, I thrive on this. There is nothing I love more than creating, directing or producing a new play, experience, or event. The more I can line up at once, the better I feel. But since the pandemic hit, I’ve been painfully aware of how this competitive mindset in which I reduce myself, my creativity and my ideas to an output machine of cruel efficiency perpetuates neoliberal capitalism. And I am a human not a machine! (If you’re looking to learn more about this, watch this excellent video)
If you’re someone like me whose brain is usually thinking five steps ahead and is prone to anxiety, these necessary moments of pause can be, well, anxiety-producing. And since COVID hit, there have been a lot more of them. On the one hand, this brings a welcome break to rest, recover and recharge. Slowing down brings time for reflection, to celebrate the moments of collaboration and success and sit with the moments of difficulty. On the other hand, it can lead to judgement and feelings of inadequacy. So, I’m going to look back at my year with you. I will celebrate the beauty, love, successes and joy. I will acknowledge the difficult. And I will make space for my discomfort, for my awareness that I don’t know exactly what comes next, and that I haven’t yet achieved in my arts practice what I dream about for my future.
This year has been a monumental journey with loss, grieving, resilience, and innovation. Here’s a look back at some of the projects I did this year and the moments that have mattered most to me.
JANUARY
FEBRUARY
MARCH-MAY
JUNE
JULY
AUGUST
SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER
NOVEMBER