"stillness is like the speed of light"

Currents have taken me lately.  I have jumped back in the urban river of time, where the lights never fully go out and where energy concentrates so dramatically that sirens buzz inside our head, even as we sleep.  I have been busy, since I came back from Quebec, busy drinking from the abundant flow of san francisco.
Between butoh and modern dance classes, stand up comedy class, rehearsal with Harvey, and new gigs popping up for Johnny and I, I guess I can say that life is good.  The sun is out.  It's slackline season again!
Last weekend I juggled for money for the first time.  Jesse had asked me to tag along for his street show, and we ended up doing a lot of juggling while hanging out, trying to gather a crowd.  And it was fantastic for me because it took all the pressure off!  I could just hang out with Jess, as a sidekick but not claiming that I was putting on a performance.  I could just play, juggle and dance, while inviting people to take part in the fun and perhaps give a dollar for their appreciation.  I felt so grateful.
The next day was mother's day, and I went to Sebastopol to do another tea house show with Johnny.  We had worked a good amount on scripting and practicing for this one; and it was indeed a lot of fun!  Lots of magic, peppered with a couple of songs and some quality juggling; the patrons enjoyed it a lot.  I wanted more people at the tea house, I wanted a crowd and it wasn't quite that.  But what should I expect?  Mother's day in a small tea house of Sebastopol!  I was very grateful one more time, for the opportunity to share our passion with more people, children and adults.
Yeah, a lot is going on inside.
Friday I went to an evening of self-revelatory performances by the graduating students of CIIS' drama therapy program.  (It could have been me in three years!  That's if I had not decided to defer my inscription in the program once again.)  And as I sat in the audience, a witness to some deeply healing theatrical rituals happening in front and within all of us, I had a hard time understanding my decision.  "That's what I want to do!" The voice kept shouting in my head.  I want to create rituals like that, in which someone can be held by the community in order to delve into the wounds and fears that make up our individual and collective existence, revealing them for everyone to ponder.  For everyone to journey between laughter and tears, together.  "That's what I want to do."
I exposed my conundrum to a teacher I saw there, and she said "well, there are more than one way to go about this path".

I know something is forming.
I know something is transforming.

I have come to a new sense of being an artist.  I have read somewhere "The most important characteristic of a work of art is unity." (William Ball, A Sense of Direction.)  And you see, that's exactly what I'm seeking!  I am searching for a mean to be whole.  I don't want to sound presumptuous when I say that I do hope to be a work of art.  I believe we all are just that, naturally.  We are works of art, waiting to be conscious of this endless creative source we're all involved in!
So I am an artist, if it means that I have an aptitude for harmonizing parts; if I have an aptitude for transforming opposites through the creation of a third part.  If I have visions for a better, more creative and perhaps egalitarian way of life.
But that is also on shaky grounds.  I should admit that I have held space for the possibility of hierarchy as possibly legitimate politically.  For I wonder about mass mentality, I do.  And I wonder about leadership.  I'll forever disagree with hypocrisy and greed, but I do wonder about the laws of the jungle.

And where do I fit in with my dreams of sacred clowning and my human needs for acceptance and safety?