CATANIC PANIC

SELF PORTRAIT
by Alexis P. Goco

Within the stench of my adulthood and gazing steadily toward appropriate integration of myself into the world, I grimace before the glory of social consciousness coming to light, when formerly its flame ignited in me a defiant spirit that fueled my intent and gave allowance to reclaim youth. As I sit here before a camera wearing a gown and harnessed with a tiara, I realize that everthing I learned and experienced in the past is everything I have become, contend with, and live for. There is such irony to be found being under the disposal of complacency contrasted with taking the role of a man embellished in effeminate ornaments! Under these layers of senslessness and gaud I find myself even more disclosed than the conspicuous innocence of my childhood, and of course since before indulging in this egocentric artform I call Catanic Panic. Beside this dismal outlook characterized, I find my cheerlessness evoking hope and my expectations direct and centered. For instance my perception of reality has been assimilated - understanding that what I persoanlly attest reality to be is not a common world view. I realize a shared reality of this world and it seems to devoid me from humanity but yet this vacancy abets indisputable awareness that I occupy and observe as irrestrainable. The pursuit frequently subjects me to change the palpable features of Catanic Panic and I begin to recognize symptoms of my craft that are more artful than other attempts that may have lacked artfullness. I recollect a game where one person hides something of value, and the other closes his eyes until the object is hidden and then leading the seeker by giving him clues restricted to several tepreature gauges - hot, warm, cold and sometimes freezing - in reference to how close the seeker is to the general location of the hidden object. In the mare's nest of Catanic Panic - appeal seems to be the hidden object, and a discretionary audience cautions me if I am getting hotter, warmer, or cold. This journey is diagnosably a boundless continuum and mutating perpetually. It is more likely conceivable to me as a novice to public esteem - that inevitably this quest to idol heights inspires a sensory phenomenon and challenge rather than classifications of narcissism or symptoms of behavioral afflictions. I find that the staging of experiences rather than a display of my personality or "soul" is more appealing like the assembly of ingredients to a scripted scene.

Brian Eno said it best in his video "Brian Eno on Voices" - "I could be more like someone writing a play and designing a character in that play, than a person presenting their personality. I don't want to do that, I never liked that about singing - especially in pop music - it's so much to do with the presentation of the personality of the singer."
The design of Catanic Panic is staged with emotions, memories, and experiences which I conduct. Through this process I feel I am without resistance and actively suggesting a vision. Whether it is something I am writing, or images I am designing - the ideas seem to originate from, so to speak - a ball of light or celestial knowledge that was mine even before the dawn of my birth. Whether the concept I produce is intuitiveless or "castles in the air" I can confirm that it is something I have previously thought of. I feel as though I have retrieved the starting point, and reconcile my purpose in life from one moment to the next moment.

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