A Strange Blog: Authenticism

During the last few weeks a question occured to me – though no one asked it, so far –

am I authentic? Are we?


I am now a fresh member of that what I at the moment (in lack of a better expression) am calling the Steampunk Scene. And as always when I am going somewhere I was not first (i.e. the world) I am asking myself if I am fit to intrude, or if I might be a shame and, worse, a laugh, or a nuisance.

What makes it easier this time is that I did not push myself -or ourselves- there, but people told me that I was Steampunk already and I discovered that huge subculture afterwards, when the second album was aready in post production and our costumes approved for over a whole season, Rosinante had done her metal duty, and doitmyselfmedia had done its own.

I still refuse to wear gears onstage, although I, indeed, possess a huge collection of metal devices and materials since I was young. But I enjoy the feeling to have a definition for my ways and, more, an excuse not only to wear corsets and big skirts at almost all times, but also to use the vastness of my vocabulary in English and German, to speak and write politely and even poetically, and, all the time, not to take myself all too serious.

But as I don´t do devices, don´t wear leather or brass, love not only aether-, but spaceships, and keep on dancing Salsa, I can´t get rid of the lingering fear that someone, someday, will point a finger on me and yell: YOU ARE A FRAUD!

This fear, honestly, is following me all my life, and never proved to be an indicator. It vexes me, though.

I mean, I felt like a fraud when entering stage school because I felt like a director in  disguise in the actor´s class. And later on when I was the first to get a real job on stage I kept that feeling (because I was engaged as a singer, too. Doesn´t that mean I am a bad actress? Nonsense, but nightmarish.)

Strangely, I didn´t feel fraudish at all when I was doing Tango Argentino: Well, it´s Argentinian and I am not, so why? Maybe it was because the people whose opinion counted (the Argentinians) didn´t mind at all. I only ever heard the word “authentic” from Germans, by the way, now I mention it!

Lastly, the decision about AUTHENTIC lies in the eyes of the beholder. For me I have to be satisfied with what I define as my own subculture. What about:




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