Who are we without an audience?

 

This week was my daughter's Drama performance. She'd been practicing for months and the performance had already been postponed due to our recent lockdown. And then on the weekend, we were notified that the play would go ahead but as a live streamed performance.

The next day, my son's band was notified that the gig they had booked for next Sunday afternoon had also been postponed due to restrictions.

And once again, my weekly dance practice was a Zoom affair. Instead of dancing with a room of friends and strangers, the option was the living room, alone. 

The whole thing left me all feeling a bit flat.

And longing. 

Longing for others once again. Reflecting on the role that an audience plays.
Seeing that empty auditorium on the screen while my daughter performed her play, or watching boxes of dancers in their separate rooms - while it serves a purpose, it doesn't satisfy the ultimate goal of an audience. Of being witnessed.

I'm talking about people. Humans in the same room as you. Sitting. Standing. Responding. Seeing you. Listening to you. Breathing the same air as you.

The arts thrive on this - people laughing in the crowd, people cheering and clapping at the end of a performance, people singing along to their favourite songs. People interacting and giving feedback. People weaving around each other on a dance floor, both in solitude and in connection - the fluidity of choice within each moment. 

And how does this translate to our largely insular lives that we have been living for the last 18 months (if you've been in Melbourne anyway)? Who are we when we are not being witnessed by our friends and our families regularly? Who are we when we don't have the mirror of strangers in our everyday interactions? When our interactions become online shopping and 'leave parcel at the door'?

I know I've become even more self-reflective than ever - maybe bordering on self indulgent in the ways I am lost in thought and looking ever deeper into my internal make up. I don't have the same amount of interaction with the outside world as I did.

But I love having an audience! I miss it. 

The casual conversation with the person next to you as you're ordering a beer in a bar. The opportunity to have a random chat with a person on public transport. The loud and raucous mess of a dinner party with friends, interrupting and taking tangents and coming back around again. I don't know if I even know how to do it anymore. I feel self conscious if I talk for too long, or question my ability to hold an easy conversation. 

I read somewhere the other day that we can never see ourselves as others see us. Our mind is too clever (?) to let us see ourselves impartially. We layer our stories about ourselves as we glimpse ourselves in the mirror - too fat, too loud, not good enough (insert whatever your story is HERE) and we taint our view of ourselves without even trying.

Sometimes I try to imagine what it is like to know me. What the audience of my friends and family see when they look at me, experience me? I can partially visualise what that would be like, once I get past the body dysmorphia. I can imagine what might be enjoyable about my company but find it easier to find the faults. Which brings me back to the same question - who am I without that audience? Just a collection of self perpetuating stories that feed themselves...

Dark but true. I truly think we need an audience sometimes to remind ourselves of the way we are seen. Whether it be one friend seeing you in your vulnerability, or by your friendship group when you're dancing on a table at a party, or even having the opportunity to hear yourself in conversation - I exist in your world. I exist beyond the confines of my own stories. 

Even for a brief moment, I get to be seen through your eyes and be something else. It's not always what I want to see, but it is refreshing to see something different nonetheless. 

So thank you. Thank you for reading this and seeing this part of me. It's only a small part but I don't take it for granted that you're taking time out of your day to witness this part of me. I also know some of you read this because you know it matters to me. That's huge. What a gift.

Because let's be honest - without anyone reading this, I'm just a penniless writer sending thoughts into the ether. In writing this, I'm asking to be heard. To be seen. 

And in turn, i hope you know that with your reflections and comments and private messages that you send me, I see you too. Your reflections are what makes me do this. That's why I don't just write this in my journal. 

I see you in my reflection and you see me in yours. 

What more could I ask for?

Thank you

in gratitude

Anna

xx