bread head

April 28, 2003


montréal, 2003

we all have blind spots. we all make mistakes. sometimes we think we are doing “good” when in fact we are doing “bad.” maybe it is a form of comfort. this “not seeing.” an act of denial, but an act involving effort and attention all the same. i guess this is o.k. but it always seems to hurt. i mean it hurts when suddenly we see, and what we once thought we were, or knew, or believed, turns out to be false. that’s when we need compassion for ourselves.

this performance, the bread head performance, enacted in the wasteland of the turcot yards before spring turns everything green and lush, was performed during a period in my life where i could not bear to see what i knew to be true.


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