Publishing as performance: an editor’s perspective
Pulse Perspective by Katherine Camarata
Whether you are sharing the mind-gnawing life story of somebody you interviewed or sharing a story entirely from your own perspective, creating an article for a magazine or publication is a collaborative and multi-step process that is not too unlike the (at times literal) balancing act of performing for an audience.
Of all the varieties of performance one can dabble in, I have chosen to devote most of the past decade to fire performance and circus arts. When I first began spinning fire, the experience was surreal. I remember it as though it was this morning, emblazoned upon the eye of my mind.
A dip of the fuel, a flick of the lighter, and she was up in flames. Winding snakes of raging fireballs extended through the fingertips of my dear friend as she created a circle around her in the empty cement driveway, spinning her pair of fire poi. The swishing roar met my ears for the first time as she weaved miraculously through each move.
“Your turn,” she laughed as she handed me the fading fire props and I experienced holding flame for the first time. I never felt the same knowing that something we are told to avoid from fear could cause so much delight.
Fire moves through us like blood in a vein, like light dancing with shadows, permeating ideas of day and night, walking a line between the conscious and unconscious, in and out. As the flickered dance reflects off the faces before us, the roar of the flame deadens the fear, the inferno spits singed ash over hair particles. The smell of hot, white gas flares through the nose, like a shot of adrenaline.
When the fire blazes, the inked sky is painted with strokes of white-red blaze, circling until smoke billows from the lifeless kevlar wicks. Those watching tend to smile, cheer or simply watch in silence.
Now it does not feel exactly quite so engulfed to write an article or publish something personal, but it does produce a type of similar inward flare. It shows a belief in your own perspective, that you value your own work and ideas enough to share them. It can be difficult to traipse over the edge of doubt and into the depths of being published or having your innermost thoughts be public. It opens you up to scrutiny, but beyond that, it opens writers and artists up to connection.
At times, this connection is fading in modern society, like an ember losing its pulse. Concepts like the Seattle freeze, where introversion in Seattle often leads to a lack of executed plans to socialize, are not as present in rural areas like Ellensburg, however we could all use more connection, more eye contact and care in the wake of the pandemic.
Sharing performance art brings us connections in the same way. It allows us to collectively appreciate vulnerability and relate to the emotions of others. It allows us to create communities focused on this outward speaking of truth, whether the truth is sinister or joyful in nature.
Listening to personal stories and interviewing sources has been a joy. Conversely, I have held space for many intense and heart-wrenching stories that I am grateful people felt comfortable sharing with me.
The interview itself is a dance, trying to stay present and be a solid listening ear while delivering your questions in a way that is not too rigid, while staying professional. There is a delicacy to the interview that I have come to appreciate. No two interviewees will be the same, in the same way that no two audiences will be the same. Everybody reacts at their own pace and according to their own feelings and desires. I find the variety comforting and it keeps me at the ready.
After the interview has been collected, weaving the words of others into the tapestry that becomes an article is a puzzle of its own. Then comes the editing process, performed by a team. A re-weaving of the tapestry to rearrange the colors and flavors and ensure the integrity of the stitching.
Taking what you write and finding the drive to share it with others often comes from the same place as performance art. At the root of it all, humans want to feel seen, valued and worthy. Publishing articles and performing on stage are expressions of this innate desire at their core, and an archival way to express purpose.
What can come of sharing within our campus community, downtown community and with the broader world? Perhaps you befriend people who feel similarly to you, or perhaps you come to understand people who feel differently from you. Maybe you spark a discussion among readers, or maybe you make somebody feel less alone if they resonate with your writing. Maybe it will make some people angry or- even more unsettling- maybe some will be indifferent.
Despite any feedback, keep this in your heart∶ No matter what happens as a result of publishing, the end result should begin and end as a marker of freedom for the individual.
My hope is that we share because we follow what makes us passionate and what helps us grow, so that the external outcome does not impact our work. Not every piece of writing or performance is understood or appreciated. The common factor between the two activities is that they are both done for expression, for the healthy activity of creating and connecting with ourselves and others.
Putting yourself out there to receive comments and judgment can be difficult, but very rewarding. The alternative is hiding inside, afraid of making a wrong move. The option to perform and publish, with all my own faults on display, has been limitlessly freeing. I hope this same freedom comes to anybody who is considering publishing or performing, but does not know if they should take the cold plunge.