This past weekend I performed at the Patti Pace Performance Festival, in Statesboro Georgia. Though I love to talk about my own performances, and probably will soon enough, what stood out for me at the festival was the last performance. Rather than explain why it stood out to me, or what it was about, neither of which I have a decent answer for, I’ve compiled the following list of words and images that may give some insight to the performer’s madness. The performer’s name is Amy Burt, and she is a communication scholar from Georgia College and State University. The first thing to note is that Burt is hilarious. She flows back and forth between a serious tone that draws us in and forces us to listen, and a comic tone that had me, at times, falling out of my seat. Nearly, at least. None of the images seemed poignant for the longest time. I wanted to find meaning in it, but she didn’t seem to offer any. We just rolled along, like a roller coaster out of control. About half-way through the performance, after the Thomas Kinkade image that frightened us all, bits began to emerge that revealed a
