performance_art raze there was nothing musical about it. it was spit and sweat and teenage angst packed into a cask we called a stage. every indignity and imagined slight amplified and repurposed as gun powder for the blasting cap to sink its tired teeth into. my hands shook so hard i had to punch the piss-poor digital piano i was saddled with. i blew my voice out before the second song and coasted to the finish line on pure adrenaline. when i screamed, the whole world screamed with me. when i was finished, they stood. i didn't think i'd ever dig that tape up. after i'd tried everything i could think of and come away with nothing, i gave up. and it fell right into my lap. it took me twenty years to find it. twenty years of fruitless searching for a chance to relive ten minutes. unearthing the footage after i thought it was dead or discarded or choking on dust in a basement somewhere, when there was no reason left to believe it still existed, made the homecoming of that formative moment even more meaningful. it felt like getting a piece of my life back. some things are worth the wait, and whatever amount of despair the waiting might bring. some people are too. 220525 what's it to you? who go blather from