The last you heard from me, I was happy-as-a-clam trying new stuff as a mythical creature on the Santa Monica Pier. My experiments continue. Several times I invite tourists to do the Macarena. (It’s fun when it works.) I also offer whimsical bits of fortune-cookie wisdom.
I learn things about myself:
– I love playing with the public.
– Dance is my easiest mode of creative expression.
– I never tire of making ridiculous faces for the camera.
And…I thoroughly enjoy cash. I create a sign to make it clear:
TIPS FUEL THE UNICORN!
Ready for a bank deposit.
I also notice something else. The sublime moments in costume punctuate long stretches of time with no interaction.
I come to the conclusion that in order to generate more engagement and tips, I must dedicate myself to the art of crowd work. I observe with admiration how the breakdancers gather groups of fifty people or more. I study them and know my next step: I need an amp.
I research which amplifier and microphone is portable, has good sound quality, and positive reviews.
I arrive to the pier with my new equipment. I have a headset that fits under my costume, and I’ve practiced how to toggle between the mic and bluetooth functions.
Performance-wise, I try lots of things that mostly fall flat. I picture, however, the possibilities. I can gather fuure crowds with choreography, edited music, and well placed jokes. But something has changed. It stops being fun.
It occurs to me that just because I can do all those things, it doesn’t mean that I want to. It also doesn’t mean that I have to.
I’m super proud of my next move: I don’t force myself to continue.
I take a break from busking to reflect.