from Augusta Scescke: "Don't-look-at-me is relegated to the punishment of her most dreaded fear"

In dance I find my look-at-me self and my don't-look-at-me self particularly at odds. It can be quite painful. Historically, photo + video-graphic evidence of myself (dancing) has precipitated days of brooding disturbance. My don't-look-at-me self is ashamed of the public audacity of my look-at-me self, who insistently dances on stages here and there year after year. When my mom came to my childhood shows, she said I always looked like I was looking within, like the audience wasn't there. That is what I was doing, what's instinctual to me. I've always loved dancing more than performing and understood them as distinct. I've learned from how it's shaken out that I can't grow a dance lifestyle without performance. I've had to confront the challenge of outward expression, of interaction with my stagemates and, more intimidatingly, innumerable viewers, mostly strangers. I'd like to disinvite don't-look-at-me from my shows. She has a terrible time. She burdens look-at-me, who nevertheless dances with all her might, grabbing attention and fighting through the deep, digestive anxiety of don't-look-at-me's inevitable acquiescence. Don't-look-at-me narrates a ghastly script of the consequences of being seen. Look-at-me can't refute her, but she can't be stopped either. Don't-look-at-me is relegated to the punishment of her most dreaded fear. She knows in due time she'll take center-stage in the comfort of my house, my bed, my shame cave. Look-at-me is favored by my existence. The persistence of time and repetition wears don't-look-at-me down slowly. When I look at my playback evidence now, don't-look-at-me flares her discomfort then sulks in the corner while look-at-me takes notes for improvement in plans to continue being looked at. Look-at-me is equally disturbed by the visual impression of don't-look-at-me, who can often be seen despite herself. Hiding her is the first task on our betterment list. We've decided don't-look-at-me can stay home with tea and cookies and live her most indulgent unseen fantasy while look-at-me and I venture out in the world and dance. Don't-look-at-me is tame at home, her phobias afar. There, she dances too.