The craft of the theatre artist creates the presence of the impulse. Weakness allows its fruition originating in decisiveness, in continual collision. Initially, always and among, the Character of Image collides with the impulse, colliding from and into an awed weakness that makes one the impulse and Character of Image. From that initial violence, which frees the oneness, the Character of Image becomes weak enough, vulnerable enough, to fall into the discovery of the impulse. The impulse makes vulnerable so it can be accepted. The initial acceptance of weakness bleeds into the continuance of the impulse in order to continually accept it and be borne by, along and with it. It expends mental and physical force. It wearies the soul.
The vulnerabilities of fear, of pain, of doubt question the very process of artistic being. It is easy to accept the impulse for a brief moment and then discard it, discarding the fear, the pain, the doubt, the very process of artistic being. The initial instinct of artists, and humans generally, is to be rid of these vulnerabilities. The craft of theatre demands them to be prolonged. The difficulty of the craft must be accepted.
The sustaining of weakness becomes vital. It is the heart of the theatre artist’s craft. To sustain it, the artist constructs a foundation from an idea that examines character eventually shaping it into an image that unites itself to the character, consistently birthing images into movements and unmovements sustaining the image among the story itself. The strength of the creation relies on its ability to shift, to break, to be made new, to revitalize its ancient structure, yet still weaving within the foundation of the Character of Image—conflicting, paradoxical weakness.
To discover its shiftings, its shapes, its breakings, the Character of Image relies on the truth of its construction, the foundation that gives it strength (strength unto weakness) to fling itself into the impulse (the collision). To sustain it, the inner core, the soul, must be constantly and willingly flung. It must be willed. The willing sustains. It is a releasing of tension so that the tension of the Character of Image can be discovered in its changeable, unified, conflicted form. It is a rising from the body with the eye of a holistic disembodied picture willing itself into the being of the impulse back into the specific necessity of action. The impulse is a being, the Character of Image itself. These practices can be made into an organic process whereby the choice is already present. The theatre artist merely steps into it, as if it is effortless, which belies the amount of effort actually put into it. If the craft is meticulously formed and consistent, constantly refreshed and examined, it will create the habit, or the technique, of weakness, revealing a seeming easiness—the craft disguised. The trust of its construction must always be its foundation. And it has boundaries. It is not free-flowing. It is decisive. It creates freedom.
The impulse is simultaneously outside and within the Character of Image. It must be seen in its totality so the Character of Image can be the particularity of it. To sustain the weakness, the Character of Image must be constantly freeing itself into choice (decisiveness)—the confines of freedom. The sustained weakness distinguishes itself among the Character of Image and its impulse within and without it, constantly unifying them seamlessly, enduring the weakness and vulnerability in order to find the great joy of expression. And it is great. Its perfection is impossible, but achievable.