Performing: the bigness and smallness in all of us

By Party Nails

Performing: the bigness and smallness in all of us

In moments like right now, when it has been a year since I released new music, a new single and album years in the making are set to release but I have yet to receive a press clipping or or send out an email to people to pre-save, this time between creativity and feedback, I am empty. The song is not mine to birth or nurture or tend to. She is adolescent, in college, about to graduate, soon she’ll have her own kids. The literal release of music from my person has always brought me great excitement and joy. I love the sense that it is beyond me and forever imbued with meaning I could never have anticipated. Every listener has their own relationship with a song. The labor entailed in getting a spark inside me to become a full song with all of the instruments and parts working together is massive, and in some cases can take years, but once it’s over it’s gone forever. The time you spent together with your songs (or insert any art practice here) ceases to exist, because you have both grown. As you intended to. 
It is in this space that I find myself now: full of promotional tasks instead of musical ones, full of email copy instead of lyrics, full of social media trends instead of melodies. I’m not complaining. I’m just pointing out that this is different from how I will feel in a few weeks and months time. Right now I am small and little, in the quiet of the transition. Soon I will expand.

Worried, hunched over a laptop, and proofreading.
Unwilling to wear proper clothing whilst performing original music about my inner demons in front of a live audience because it’s too restrictive.
How are these both me?
When I feel small, like I do now, I don’t understand.
When I feel big, like I will in 2 weeks after this song comes out, I will understand.
I’ll try to guide myself, and whoever is reading this, now: there is no big without the small.
Without the small there is no rehearsal, no budget, no goals. Every big thing you do will start with something small.
As tempting as it is to focus only on the creative process here, I think there’s plenty of writing already on just getting started and continuing to lay your bricks day by day. Instead, let’s look at the act of performing itself. I’ll use my experience performing as a literal example, but this train of thought can apply to any type of real-time human interaction that you find yourself in. Also, I need this self pep talk real bad.

I remember watching a video of me performing back when I was just starting Party Nails. During the performance, I felt like every movement I made with my arms was obnoxious and massive, and every facial expression was over the top. But in watching the video I could see this wasn’t the case—these things I was self-conscious about OVER doing were barely intelligible as gestures. How could I feel so silly while I was still making myself small? Would I ever feel as BIG as I wanted to be on stage?
When people see my show they almost always comment on the BIGness of the performance. I am flattered because I truly feel like I am still at the beginning of my journey as a performer, and I appreciate their positive feedback. I’m always quick to tell them: I practiced a lot. I am not just “like” this. One must practice taking up space. Before you practice, it feels ridiculous. You must practice making the facial expressions as wild as they need to be in order for the people in the back to feel them. You must practice walking, running, rolling while you are singing or playing, so that you know what it feels like to do. Each time you attempt a bigger gesture, you are doing something you have never done before. You are literally getting bigger. Making your smaller gestures into bigger ones. One by one by one by one they expand.
Every stage and every audience is different, but YOU will always be in charge of how you want to perform. Do you want to be small? Or do you want to be YOU? Performing will ALWAYS feel silly. You are a clown. Be proud of your clown! No one else can clown like you. It takes practice to be good at being your clowny self on stage. Anyone who seems comfortable is simply used to this balance.
We all have big versions and little versions, stage versions and nap versions, clown versions and human versions, of ourselves. The range is fucking cool. Honor yours! Spread your light! Don’t stamp out the light of other people just because you’re not ready to honor yours yet!!
Fall in love with your range. Fall in love with practicing. You will never be done growing, changing, making, preparing, presenting, observing, creating, connecting with yourself and others who need your art.
Be small, be big. Be you.