I’m watching the film The Wild Goose Lake by Diao Yi-nan and there’s a scene about halfway through the that really struck me (this is not really a spoiler). The protagonist while on the lam, is hiding in a tent. This tent houses a women who has only her head visible inside a large box. The protag, perhaps realizing he can use her as a distraction, puts money in the jar next to her for which she proceeds to sing while the box she’s in rotates. The protag immediately leaves the singing spinning woman and she continues to perform, now without an audience. Watching this woman perform this song and dance to no one filled me with a deep sadness. Sadness for a rehersed act that will go unappreciated, sadness for worker who toils for no one, sadness for a woman who is trapped in this box unable stop herself from performing. I always find myself particularly saddened by any situation that was prepared for and reaped no audience: a lecture with no students, a group outting with a detailed itinerary and no friends to partake, a birthday party with a homemade cake and no empty stomachs… Maybe we can still find joy in the act, the act of performing. So long as we have outselves (often our biggest critic but sometimes our biggest fan) we’ll always have, at the very least, an audience of one.