The Fat Joke

I’ve been wanting to perform to spoken word for as long as I’ve been an entertainer. I’ve been hesitant, because I can’t shake the nagging feeling that anything I write myself isn’t ready to be read or heard by other humans.  Like the majority of the population, the sound of my own voice gives me strange feelings and I don’t have the right situation at hand for someone to voice my words without it taking more time to partner than I have available to get it right. With these perceived obstacles in my way, it went on the back burner for years, until I experienced yet another doctor-patient encounter to add to the life long list of ailments and injuries being dismissed because of my weight, causing my brain webs to light up.  I recalled poetry from Rachel Wiley. The Fat Joke. The creation of this act happen with great speed and passion.  One of the most beautiful and powerful aspects of the art of burlesque is the ability to make the audience feel something and to connect.  Evoking some kind of feeling should be a core objective of the art. Knowing how many people would be able to relate to Rachel’s words, I instantly felt that I needed to perform to this fantastic piece and reached out to obtain permission to share her work.

joke 1

Creative costuming is one of my strengths and it was a challenge for me to keep this as simplistic as I felt it needed to be. I knew I had a white lab coat from when I was in nursing school many years ago. Tried it on. It was too small.  How serendipitous and pertinent to the content of the act. Rather than modifying it to fit me, I used it. A simple beige slip I already owned became my choice over other costume pieces I had that could have worked.  I added rhinestones to make it a “stage” costume, but practicing restraint from the typical ostentatious glamour was the right choice.

joke 2

A couple of the burlesque movement workshops I’ve taken were centered around expressive choreography. They were the support and push I needed to move in a way that I yearned to move to tell my stories.  Special gratitude has a place in my heart and memory for the classes of Rebel Vitale and Gabe Gabriel.

My physical limitations for movement may exist. The limitations society puts on bodies and how they should move are maddeningly absurd.

Art and performance often tell an emotional story.  It is a weakness of humanity to dismiss any story, any voice, any pain, or any person. My hopes are vast for how this act will evolve and where it will go. It has already brought several people and myself to tears with simplistic and striking nature.  We carry around so much hurt that often rests just under the surface and connecting on an emotional level can be all that is needed to release some of it.

joke 3

Madam Hatter: Maybe she’s born with it? Maybe it’s mercury!

What has become one of my favorite acts, started when I selected a character to fit into a Wonderland themed show. Lady Grey’s Lovelies was so kind to have me be a part of their production and I thought, “I could pull off a Mad Hatter” and then I can perform it at my home venue as well.  I was originally envisioning using pieces of costumes I already had and filling in with a matching coat and hat. What I ended up doing was starting a journey, weaving threads of my life into a story and costume that is more ‘me’ than any other thus far. Madam Hatter has delighted many over the past few years, and I am excited and eager to continue to share it with audiences and my fellow entertainers. I’ve been fortunate to perform this act in many places and for many people. Tea parties have popped up in Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Canada, Ohio, DC, coming soon Vermont, and literally underground (being part of a TBD Immersive production in the Metro Underground). Madam Hatter has the honor of being the 2019 Winner of the Pennsylvania Burlypicks. I’m looking forward to seeing where else I may be able to share this wonderland of a act.

SPOILER ALERTS – don’t read this if you don’t want to save the surprises for live action.

CoatMy creative and thrifty essence is tied into the costume so tight, that it is exactly the ingredients from which it is made.  I wanted to utilize as much scrap and existing supplies as I had to put this together. Both because I’m in a chronic state of financial strain, and because I felt like it connected with what I would do if I was a milliner, building fantasy with findings. While the costume has evolved and I have purchased a few small supplies, I am staying as true to that vision as possible throughout the life of this artwork. The coat started as an inexpensive purple coat that I used as a base upon which to build my coat-of-many-colors veneer. Rows of silk sari scraps were sewed onto the coat,  one by one, until I had a rainbow of re-birthed beauty and no more patience. I dug through my bucket of scrap and managed to find enough trim to give it a mismatched finishing touch around the edges. Topping it off is a tassel that came as a “free gift” when buying rhinestones online.


hatter 4The waistcoat used the bulk of what remained from the silk scraps, as well as some beautiful red trim that didn’t make it into a previous costuming endeavor. The base was parts of a thrifted vest that I had laying around, which was too small for me to wear, a scrapable bra, some hope and a dream. Even when I have a plan, my sewing projects tend to just happen as they happen.

I had already made this yellow skirt for a Snow White act that had a free spirit style underlayer. It was made from fabric remnants and vintage doilies and handkerchiefs I used at my wedding. The skirt was perfect for the Hatter costume.

boaI can’t remember why I thought I needed a boa, but thank goodness I did. Everything in the boa was from my fabric pile. There are pieces of fabric from projects for my children, remaining scraps from other costumes, remnants people donating to me, cuttings from thrifted curtains and scarves that had just been waiting too long to be made into something, and even some pieces from my grandmother’s fabrics. This boa has lovingly become what I call my “Stripper Quilt”. Imagination lead to a surprise reveal when I decided to bustle the boa up into a bountiful rump. This serves an extra purpose of hiding my sugarbritches. More on those later. 

The first hat was formed with some foam sheets, paper plates and a stapler. I then ripped strips of my old bed sheets and Mod Podged them bit by bit, until it finally stopped looking like a pile of things a toddler made for a proud, yet underwhelmed, parent. (The sheet was worn through from it’s intended use, previously harvested of it’s elastic, and had been laying in my fabric pile awaiting a new purpose. No waste. Never.) I removed as much as I could of the staples and paper plate. I keep vowing to “finish” the inside of the hat, but until then I just make sure nobody sees it while on stage. Little silk scraps from the coat were added, and eventually some rhinestone edging.

I wasn’t thinking ahead when I made the first hat and made it too big to function as a headpiece, but too small to fit as a hat. Thus, a hat in a hat would need to solve my problem.  It was fortuitous, because the necessity to make a second hat created a reveal for the act that seems so obvious and cliche, yet so strongly loved by many.  The second hat was made with a souvenir miniature sombrero, an empty Talenti container, carboard, piece of a curtain and other various crafting scraps. Once completed I had to cut parts of the original hat so the new one could fit inside.

Hat Hat 2 hats.jpg

cage-bottom.jpgThe original undergarments consisted of a cage style body suit made from excessive amounts of pink glitter elastic I ordered and never used. I made abstract design on the panty part and matching pasties with whatever rhinestones I had on hand.  This layer didn’t see much stage time. Upon performances scheduled in Frederick Maryland and Tennessee for the Smoky Mountain Burlesque Festival, I needed to make blue law compliant coverage.

Instead of just bulking up the under layer with extra pieces and slapping something on my underboobs, I decided to make my coverage purposeful and specific. It became too perfect and I never went back.  The granny panty bottoms became my “Sugar Britches” with the help of felt and marker to represent a sugar packet. Easy peasy. Now what? Well… if my bum is sugar, what should I do with my front? It is my… Sweet and Low. My sweet and low people. This act is ultra pun and I couldn’t be happier to have a new euphemism on standby. More felt, more marker, rhinestones and done. I have since salvaged much of the original sugar britches and revised them to be more permanent and less bulky to hid under the layers better. I have also found a new use for my original cage underlayer. Never wasted. Always re-purposed. BraA bra was added with tear-away teacups.  Madam Hatter wears a size T cup brassiere. The puns can’t stop. The puns shan’t stop. I decorated the cups with warm colors on my left and cool colors on my right, a subtle throw back to my rainbow coat. My pasties are as close as I could get to looking like tea bags and doilies from the bits of things I had.  I thought the yellow looked like the Lipton tea brand tag, but at least one person thought they were eggs without the rest of the costume to give context. Just to make sure there is no confusion and doubt that they are tea and not chicken ovum, I dip them in my cups at the end of the act now.


The shoes also came as a secondary phase and I mimicked the warm/cool color separation. I did splurge on a cheap pair of shoes from eBay to devote to this act, because I was unsuccessful finding any used ones that fit. Curse these beautiful arthritic ten wides.  I dyed each shoe and the strings with homemade dye, made  from alcohol and sharpie innards, then sealed with the sealer I use on leather work. I don’t know if that worked, but I figured it’s a step I should attempt. These shoes were a great canvas to use the scraps too tiny for anything else. I dug to the bottom of the jars, buckets, and bins and glued together my masterpieces.


glovesThe gloves were just a pair of burgundy ones I already had. They only became devoted to this act after a piece of feedback I got from Burlypicks was to “maybe decorate my gloves”. Back to the craft hoard. An extra doily and a vintage glove that would never fit my large size Rock-Biter hands both got a bath of pink dye and then became part of my weird and wonderful costume story. The glove-on-glove is fun because I can burlesque the burlesque world by using my teeth on the extra glove fingers to remove the main glove.

The most recent addition is a pair of fishnets with holes I stitched and covered in a few flowers and rhinestones.  I could have done the entire leg in decor, but i thought adorning only the area around where the repairs were was appropriate. I’m aware so many of the details of this costume are lost for the audience, especially at a distance and short timeframe. I’m content and even passionate about having these details for myself.  This costume will continue to deteriorate, especially the silk pieces, and the repairs will slowly make it evolve into something even better and more special, a visual representation of the hours of work as I pour myself, my time, my patience, my creativity and my heart into.

Since I am not a good seamstress and often constructing my costumes with the Frankenstein method, the insides aren’t always pleasant to view. The inside of the coat is still purple from it’s former life, but with light thread stitches all over from adding the Sari scraps. I had no intention of changing this look, but it did make me think of something fun to add to the inside. If I’m going to open up and remove my coat anyway, why not have something to show you? or maybe to sell you? How about a selection of nice watches? But the watches are actually just things from my broken jewelry scrap basket. And if you’re going to have watches, why not a clock.  We need to know when tea time is.

clock.jpg hatter 2

I took a class from Blanche Debris where we built backstories for our acts, thinking about what lead us or our characters to being where they are when they’re taking the stage. When I was deciding what time I wanted my coat clock to show, things all fell into place in my head. Tea time is at 6:00. My song is about 5 minutes long. The clock in my coat says 5:55. When Madam Hatter takes the stage, she is intoxicated by her clothes and hat (completely plausible in this modern era and E6000 fumes), and then realizes it’s time to get ready for tea. The audience members are her guests. The tea cups come out. Then she’s ready for the sweetener. The song itself even has a line saying “I think I’m ready now”. Pinkies up. It’s time for tea!

hatter 3



Tear You Apart: in front of everyone and Dolly!

EE791333-030B-459B-8C81-948C2E850496Occasionally I am either gifted or find glorious dresses that would make fantastic burlesque costumes, but since my rack-ready body has never arrived, I’m unable to use them as they are built and have to get creative. The blessed day these beautiful vintage gowns arrived was actually years ago. That lovely little… and I mean little… blue number on the bottom of the photo waited patiently for several years before inspiration and motivation stuck on how to morph it into a haute couture Bearcat dream.

The Costume:

The original lining, shoulder pads, and poofy tulle sleeves were sent out to pasture and I also cut off one sleeve entirely to have some spare pieces of the sequin applique to spread around. I thought I would be able to just add a slit down the back and up the leg and that would be enough to give me room, but oops… I gained like 50 pounds since the first time I tried it on and it didn’t fit then so no amount of butter and wishful thinking would slide me into it now. I had to keep slitting lower and lower down the back, higher and higher up the leg, and add another slit on the opposite side to make space for my body. I was left with flaps of old beaded blue gown sadly flapping on my body like a shredded kite. Some spare “nude” fabric later and I was able to make some kind of structure happen.  I added some godet type features to the bottom to give shape.  I used a yard of fancy fabric to create “applique” by cutting the shapes away from the mesh, a cost friendly alternative to buying dozens of applique. I realized that my beautiful abstract dream dress had several peep show treasures where my body showed, which was part of the objective, but also a serendipitous feature of how much I had to reveal to make it fit on me.  I wanted to get the most of these parts, so I added tear-away pieces over a few fleshy spots. They aren’t the best in regards to construction, but since they were made with scraps and as an afterthought, I’m still pleased with it.

GloveGloves –  it’s a burlesque staple, so why not? I wanted another item to remove besides just the dress. But what do you do when you shove your meaty forearm into a glove and it splits like a hotdog in the microwave? Well… just make the glove as abstract as the dress I suppose. I had to trim the edges with extra pieces of the applique to make a purposeful peep hole on the side. Then I thought, “While I’m at it, I’ll just cut off some of the fingers since the entire finger area was snug on my rockbiter hands”. I was delighted with the beautiful absurdity of the glove. Not need for gloves.  One was perfect.

ShoesBy the time I got around to the shoes, I had no money to spare. I shopped around until I found a pair of used shoes online and spent my eBay bucks. I dyed them blue with a homemade dye of sharpie innards and alcohol, and rhinestoned them to the point of obliterating any recognition of their former selves, like they were entering witness protection. Lately, I’ve been replacing all buckles on shoes with snaps. it’s proven a valuable asset since I neither want to 1: attempt to contort my achy potato sack body to buckle shoes in a graceful manner, nor 2: ask for help (It’s a problem I have.  It mentally hurts me to ask for help. I’m working on it.)

I built the feather fans myself, so they aren’t perfect, but I’m pleased with how they turned out.  I didn’t have enough money to get feathers as long as I would have liked, but I had four layers worth, making these very full in the middle, better to hide me with my dear. (Feather fan building tips post will happen in the future.)

Goonies.jpgI wanted the under layer to be just as odd as the outer layer. I just started forming things together and ended up with a situation on the side that reminded me of the necklace from The Goonies I coveted as a youth. As it turns out, I did not grow up to find pirate booty, but I subconsciously built myself treasure panties.

The Challenge: 

Soarking OakI wanted to challenge myself to be more serious and sexy, or at least not to be funny or default to my usual self. I also wanted the challenge of pairing this glamorous costume with an unexpected song.  So shuffling through my music, I landed upon “Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge.  Perfect.  Also perfect because I had to tear the dress apart to make it and would be tearing it apart on stage.

The Experiences:

I have had the fortunate opportunity to perform this act for several different producers in the MD, DC, VA, PA area and I hope to continue to find opportunities to share it. I was able to use this act repeatedly in an immersive theater series.  It was a rare opportunity to do an act over and over in front of an audience to actively refine it. I am so fortunate to have been part of TBD Immersive’s Cabaret series, and will forever remember and appreciate the people I met, the unique venues where I performed with them, and the stores told within that series.



Bijou MarqueeBijouI was thrilled to have this act accepted to the 2019 Smoky Mountain Burlesque Festival. On top of that, I would be performing at the Bijou, a beautiful historic theater in Knoxville. Those feelings of excitement and terror jiggled inside of me for months. As it turns out, they’d be amplified by learning that DOLLY PARTON would be watching the show. We share a birthday and now we’ve shared space.  The festival is amazing enough, having Dolly Parton there was gilding the lily, and the magnolia. One of my favorite moments was backstage after the show, just before taking a group photo when she said “I haven’t had this much fun since filming Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” and hearing this subtle, but charming collective breath that the performers all took after she spoke. It was the audible evidence that this moment would be remembered and valued proudly by everyone huddled in that sparkly heap of entertainers, all with eyes glued on one of the best entertainers and people around. Thank you Dolly! Thank you SMBF!

DOlly 1Dolly



Let Me Be Cake

cupcake.jpgSometimes, you just don’t get it right the first time, or the second, or third. And that’s ok! This is the case of my cake act. There I was, in my living room with Johnnie Moxie trying on a plain cheap white hoop skirt that I had other intentions for, when I pulled it up to my neck and she gleefully proclaimed that I looked like a cupcake. We both wore it and essentially reenacted the YouTube video of the little girl running around her room shouting, “I’m a cupcake! I’m a cupcake! I’m a cupcake!” and that’s why I now have a cupcake costume.

dc-front.jpgI have this uncanny ability to get in over my head just the right amount. That combined with my need to be thrifty, I decided that I was going to build this costume using hundreds of yards of ribbon from the Berwick Offray outlet nearby to represent icing. Let me tell you about the glorious bounty that is the Berwick Offray outlet!  It’s a little corner shop of the factory building in Hagerstown, MD filled with boxes of ribbon you can procure for pennies! You can buy a spool with hundreds of yards for a few dollars, or if you’re super stingy you can buy the bags full of loose ribbon for like a quarter or less and just wind it up at your leisure. I had a completely different color scheme in mind, but as true outlets go, you have to work with what they have. I settled on purple, pink, and white. Thus began the tireless and frustrating journey of turning a hoop skirt, corset, bra, garter and old slip into an icing-ed dream. I made the ruffle trim using the ribbon – a monotonous, but not difficult task. Then I had to painfully sew layer upon layer of trim to the base pieces. I used silver wired ribbon to make a “wrapper” on the bottom. One particular day, I was crafting with my pal Lady Bladie. I was about 90% finished this delicious monstrosity when I abruptly stopped and just had myself a quiet tantrum moment. “I don’t want to do this anymore” was my sweaty, tired, teary mantra for at least ten minutes before returning to my machine.

Sewing complete (for now). How did I get it wrong? I tried to make an act. Nothing fit.  I performed as cake to several songs, adding some cute sparkly oven mitts at one point, and it just didn’t fit.  The glitter goddess felt pity on me and my pile of ribbon and fed my brain an idea. I decided not to start as the cake, but end that way. I mean… that’s all I wanted anyway during my living room laps, just to be a cupcake. Let me be cake! Let them eat cake. Good job brain. Back to the costuming to create a new way to start the act. Fortunately, because this happen in phases I had had plenty of time to get over my stitching and bitching. This latest version feels like the right recipe. Like always, it has costume and choreography repairs, but it’s a better product than it was. I performed it the 2018 DC Burlypicks mainly for the opportunity to do the new version and ended up placing second runner up. This made me proud and I’m hoping to finish some more work on it and have the opportunity to perform again sometime next year.

With the new storyline, I needed some Rococo hair. I loathe wigs and also needed the ability to remove the hair to place my cherry at the end.

My solution: Build a hat that is hair.

My dilemma: How do I do that?

My problem: How do I do that and make it secure for much of the act, but easily removable?

My other problem: How do I do that without money?

My other other problem: How do I do that at 2:00am when I should be sleeping, but I’m building costumes instead.

I rummaged around until I decided that I would cut up an empty plastic pretzel tub and use Modge Podge to build white curls, one layer at a time. Well, sure. This is what’s in my brain. I also decided that I would solve my problem of fastening and removal by cutting holes on opposite ends and using a stick passed through one hole – through my real hair in a bun – then through the other hole. It worked. It’s Sturdy enough to stay and I have the ability to remove it with just the sliding of a stick. What I don’t have are progress photos. I color my hair with temporary white spray and use a wrap I made out of ribbon that clips on the back along my lower hairline.  This hides my hair when the “hat” is on and leave something pretty for after I take it off. Problems solved! My good feelings about this one started to replace my bad feelings, which was enough to motivate me to make matching shoes.


SUCCESSES: I made a unique costume and powered through the lengthy process of continuing to upgrade, add costume pieces, and finding the right music and meaning. I got over my need to have multiple uses for footwear and made a specific pair of shoes devoted to this act.

faceOOPS!-ORTUNITIES: There is a tear away ribbon skirt attached to the corset that is done in such a way that the corset needs to be a specific width to match up to the snaps.  It’s a bit of an annoyance, but more importantly… I’m not the same size. Until I have the time to change it, I’ll be trying to put 10 pounds of sugar in a 5 pound bag. The costume itself is cumbersome and does not make for a quick costume change as a second act. The white hair somewhat prevents it from being a first act.  This act must come as a solo performance or with enough time for costume or hair changes.

You Don’t Own Me: My Cabbage Patch Kid Story

When people ask how long I’ve been performing, I tell them I don’t like to count the first couple years.  It wasn’t that I don’t value them or that I wasn’t putting forth effort. I was unskilled and inexperienced, cranking out a lot of work that, as it turns out, was not connected to me. I was trying to get things done and it may have worked on the surface, but it wasn’t working in the depth of my soul. I’m still evolving and learning, frequently discouraged by not having the time, energy, finances and physical abilities to execute my visions. I pause sometimes and remember to appreciate the entertainer I am in this moment, even though I hope to become better every day. Present-me needs to look away from future-me and past-me long enough to feel worthy of my own love right now.

Even in those early years I was making a mental list of ideas, songs and concepts that I wanted to do.  The list grows every day. I can’t turn off the burlesque Rumpelstiltskins wobbling around in my brain that see a tiny straw piece of the world and wants to spin them into act gold. I will never get to everything on my list and it is constantly being re-prioritized. Something beautiful happened when both a song and an idea that had been separate on my list, both waiting until I felt I was more worthy of each, collided into burly magic and I realized they belonged together like hot glue and regret. Shortly after this I started taking my first burlesque workshops. It became the right time to believe in present-me enough to put together this act. It was time to go the garden and hoe a row for the Cabbage Patch Kid act to take root in my repertoire.

Smoky SmileRewind to 1981… I am a child of the 80’s. My mother wouldn’t wait in the lines of crazed, Christmas chaos waiting to adopt a beloved Cabbage Patch after being trampled by Tupperware mothers in corduroy and hairspray, but I did eventually own one.  He was bald and had a single tooth.  I lost his certificate much as I lived on to lose the certificate of one of my actual offspring. (I have a safe now, this is no longer a problem. If nothing else in life, I’ve mastered important paperwork.)

Xavier RobertsFast Forward to 2013…  I won a small gift certificate for a tattoo at a charity auction. I joked with my husband that it would probably only be enough to get a tiny heart on my tush.  Somehow, this turned into me deciding that in my appreciation for humor and as a tribute to the 80s, I would get Xavier Roberts signature tattooed on my rump with the year of my birth. I knew it wasn’t an original concept, but I didn’t have money at the time to get anything larger and in my forever state of frugal, I didn’t want it to go to waste. So, the tattoo came years before the act.

Smoky CertificateRewind to 2000s…  For a decade, I was in an unhealthy marriage. It was emotionally and verbally abusive and my walls had enough holes to pass for Swiss cheese. I was in a dark cloud and walking on eggshells. A story for another day, but I touch on this topic ever so slightly to show that this personal part of my life, complete with trauma and triumph, is a foundation for everything this act is built upon.


I paired Lesley Gore’s “You Don’t Own Me” with my Cabbage Patch tribute, because it made complete sense in my mind that my feelings of empowerment, independence, and newfound ability to be myself since 2009 merged well with a doll freeing herself from being owned and becoming who she is. I could be light and fun referencing a character, and simultaneously unburden and uplift my soul. I haven’t reached the full vision of the act, because I have some costume upgrades to do and prop building in order to birth myself on stage from Bearcat sized cabbage, as well as overall choreography work. Future progress aside, I am proud of the act and enjoy sharing it with everyone.


Smoky DressThe dress I actually ordered with custom measurements arrived in a size where I can only imagine they read my clearly labeled “inches” as “centimeters”. It took what felt like an eternity, but I finally found a used square dancing dress large enough to fit. I modified the dress to attach a crinoline skirt. The process felt something like trying to put a marshmallow in a sleeper hold and send it through a wood chipper. I also added a zipper the entire way down so the dress would completely split.

Costume ProgressI splurged on fancy beaded fringe, the kind you need to negotiate with yourself about, followed by mapping out a plan on how you’ll pay your phone bill now. Green. Like Cabbage.

If you had yourself a CPK doll, you’ll remember their luscious locks of yarn hair. I needed to build yarn hair. A soft brown cap, a skew of yarn, and a few curse words later I managed to form an easily removable yarn pigtailed wig/hat situation.

Cabaret Cabbage Layer

THE MOMENTS: (*Spoiler Alert*)

The two parts of the act that are the most important to me are reflected by the audience. Every time I tear apart my adoption certificate, my spirit does a quick little hiccup of affirmation that my decisions in life leading me to that weird and freeing moment have been right. Even those patrons who don’t know the CPK reference can gather that this character is about to break free. A significant moment indeed, but shadowed later by what is still to date one of my favorite reveals. Sidenote: I have a mighty affection for performance moments, either by myself or others, that generate reaction and impact greater than anything involving the exposure of a body part. Although greatly amazing and intimate, I feel like those moments of popping out a boob or bum are wrapped up in an easy to open package. Other moments can demonstrate the greatness of burlesque, because the viewer has followed you along the garden tour.  They understand, but moreover they appreciate and they feel something. With any luck it will be a package they didn’t expect to receive and will carry it with them always. After I’ve discarded my shoes, knee-highs, and dress I stand on stage with a shining green rhinestoned ensemble as a peeled version of my previous doll character, capturing attention with my newfound glamour.  The moment that matters: tearing off my yarn hair. That’s it. It’s the simplest of actions revealing nothing more extravagant than my natural hair. Hair I attempt to curl to look nice, but inevitably flattens into a heap of whatever box-color version of dark red I find on sale, usually with my mouse-fur-brown roots emerging. But that’s enough.  It’s me. I’m enough. I’m enough and I’m everything. The audience feels it and I am so happy they get to own that moment with me.