he smiles at me those perfect ivories i try to tickle but tangle frozen fingers in careless hair anxieties coarse with giggling notes that mock me in dotted dark eyes with each page turn sheets of ice to sweat trickl i n g into pits of an inferno under stage lights red hot on my neck. rehearsing triad scales turn to slithering reptiles that spiral into depths coiling around the songs i knew in my prison i mean practice room whispers to withdraw run away give up to quit when a trance of strings tune me out of my nauseous state to focus my wild mind on the spotlight of the magic wand that lifts me out.
By: Katy Claire Funke
The webs we spin and get caught up in can truly hinder us from our passions and our jobs, but we have to let the love of our art overcome. I’ve been a performer since I was four years old and have always suffered with some degree of anxiety. Even after being on a stage hundreds of times. Most days I can harness that nervous energy and turn it into a more exhilarating and authentic performance for myself and the audience. Other days, it gets in the way. Nevertheless, I need to perform because I can’t do life without it (I’ve tried and been miserable), so I take it one performance at a time.