I came here to be real, not to be famous. [but while your waiting for that video to load - why don't
When a clown joins Clowns International in England, which claims to be the oldest clown society in the world, they can register their individual make-up. An eggshell is decorated as a miniature version of the clown's head and added to the "Egg Gallery" which then acts as sort of clown copyright. I thought that here on the west coast of the Americas we could do the same thing, so i started a little blog to share not just the final result of a characters inception, but the process and context of that creation.
'Will Workforf Ood; human target' was drawn from the work of classic clowns, the indie culture of circus that was always on the move, and protest clowns of CIRCA [or BIRCA]. As time passed the name and face had their own public life and a reputation to uphold. In the flesh alot of this formulation happened at the crossroads of 25th and Alberta street in portland oregon where i meet a loose family unit of other performers. if it weren't for them I probably would have kept moving and gotten into sync with a more transitory crew, but the centrality of the clown house made for a grounded point of reference, a cause. I likely would have gone on playing the fool but never have stopped to appreciate just one neighborhood or ever bothered to put a name to a face or have made a brand-name out of a foolish character.
My every intention was to bolster and celebrate the precariously balanced cultural hub that was the clown house. It was all the fun of a traveling circus tribe without as much of the bridge burning and running from the sheriff. I brought new ideas, fresh energy, and qualified human beings into the fold and they kept up the house. Every thing was tuned to a standard set by some material held on to by the crew. Things went well and as we got to know each other we talked about stepping it up and finding a permanent clown house. This never happened because the crew was centered around a couple who were due for a separation. I still believed we were a reputable bunch whos main interest was celebrating life and taking care of each other.
BOY WAS I WRONG. The character assassinations spared no one. Anyone who might have followed this drama in it's making [either online or in person] knows that people still wanna blame their problems on me. Really, i should have seen it all coming, but i wanted to believe we could make it happen. Portland, afterall, is a unique place and america needs it's rugged individualism and publicly known critic-entertainers. I made a full time effort to provide any and all resources available to either the show or the actual house and home that hosted it and in return i've been called alot'a rude things, and threatened outright by the very same person who was fishing for help. I was bailing out a sinking ship or sticking my hand in the middle of a dog fight, and i wasn't the only one. Anyone who hadn't kept a safe distance was at the very least publicly insulted. So, alot of people know what really went down.
I think i've focused on the positive stuff and stuck with it; providing support for my friends, sharing my experience, learning new tricks, following my heart, challenging social constructs, et al. I really just wanted to show you pretty pictures and inspire autonomy and community- turns out i've also got to occasionally make a note of a trash talking former partner in art-crime. Lots of what he says doesn't make sense so i'm not to worried about it, but occasionally i still catch wind of the stink this guy conjures up for others. Even after he called off our partnership I thought were of similar make but have since learned otherwise. IT IS RATHER EMBARRASSING to say the least.
The thing is - i played the fall guy in that show. I'm pretty well versed in both fall guy and scape goat. The fall guy not only knows when he's about to get floored but why. He knows whats happening off stage and that his duty is to keep the crowd looking at the scripted action and not the man behind the curtain. TURNS OUT I WAS so IRREPLACEABLE that the catholic church has asked me to officially become the saint you can blame for all divorces, car wrecks, and erectile dysfunction.
So if your having a long messy divorce, or a hassle with the insurance man, or you simply can't get out of bed in the morning; BLAME THE REVEREND SAINT WILL WORKFORF OOD and you can avoid finding the fortitude to address the real issues. AMEN.
'Will Workforf Ood; human target' was drawn from the work of classic clowns, the indie culture of circus that was always on the move, and protest clowns of CIRCA [or BIRCA]. As time passed the name and face had their own public life and a reputation to uphold. In the flesh alot of this formulation happened at the crossroads of 25th and Alberta street in portland oregon where i meet a loose family unit of other performers. if it weren't for them I probably would have kept moving and gotten into sync with a more transitory crew, but the centrality of the clown house made for a grounded point of reference, a cause. I likely would have gone on playing the fool but never have stopped to appreciate just one neighborhood or ever bothered to put a name to a face or have made a brand-name out of a foolish character.
My every intention was to bolster and celebrate the precariously balanced cultural hub that was the clown house. It was all the fun of a traveling circus tribe without as much of the bridge burning and running from the sheriff. I brought new ideas, fresh energy, and qualified human beings into the fold and they kept up the house. Every thing was tuned to a standard set by some material held on to by the crew. Things went well and as we got to know each other we talked about stepping it up and finding a permanent clown house. This never happened because the crew was centered around a couple who were due for a separation. I still believed we were a reputable bunch whos main interest was celebrating life and taking care of each other.
BOY WAS I WRONG. The character assassinations spared no one. Anyone who might have followed this drama in it's making [either online or in person] knows that people still wanna blame their problems on me. Really, i should have seen it all coming, but i wanted to believe we could make it happen. Portland, afterall, is a unique place and america needs it's rugged individualism and publicly known critic-entertainers. I made a full time effort to provide any and all resources available to either the show or the actual house and home that hosted it and in return i've been called alot'a rude things, and threatened outright by the very same person who was fishing for help. I was bailing out a sinking ship or sticking my hand in the middle of a dog fight, and i wasn't the only one. Anyone who hadn't kept a safe distance was at the very least publicly insulted. So, alot of people know what really went down.
I think i've focused on the positive stuff and stuck with it; providing support for my friends, sharing my experience, learning new tricks, following my heart, challenging social constructs, et al. I really just wanted to show you pretty pictures and inspire autonomy and community- turns out i've also got to occasionally make a note of a trash talking former partner in art-crime. Lots of what he says doesn't make sense so i'm not to worried about it, but occasionally i still catch wind of the stink this guy conjures up for others. Even after he called off our partnership I thought were of similar make but have since learned otherwise. IT IS RATHER EMBARRASSING to say the least.
The thing is - i played the fall guy in that show. I'm pretty well versed in both fall guy and scape goat. The fall guy not only knows when he's about to get floored but why. He knows whats happening off stage and that his duty is to keep the crowd looking at the scripted action and not the man behind the curtain. TURNS OUT I WAS so IRREPLACEABLE that the catholic church has asked me to officially become the saint you can blame for all divorces, car wrecks, and erectile dysfunction.
So if your having a long messy divorce, or a hassle with the insurance man, or you simply can't get out of bed in the morning; BLAME THE REVEREND SAINT WILL WORKFORF OOD and you can avoid finding the fortitude to address the real issues. AMEN.