sets up her milk crate stage four days a week and strikes a pose
that can only be broken by a tip.
She thinks the discipline she got at
the Royal Academy of Dance in London is what makes it possible
for her to be a "living statue".
friend, who is also a living statue, kind of talked me into
this. He brought me to Times Square the first time I did it
and it was horrible. I thought, "I just want to go someplace
secluded to practice," and I landed on this spot near the
Sailboat Pond on 72nd Street, and the afternoon was just amazing.
It was so lovely; all the kids loved it, and by the end of the
first week I had my rent, and I never looked back.
try to break my concentration all the time. Kids will actually
stamp their feet, as if that's going to make me move! Or they'll
start a joke, "Did you hear the one about the rabbi?"
and then they'll just stop! And I think, "Is that supposed
to make me laugh?"
No one's been able to make me laugh yet. Though I fought it
to the bitter end with one little boy. He cracked up the entire
audience. He figured out that I was alive, and declared it like
it was the only thing on earth that mattered, and as his dad
was trying to drag him away, you could hear him all down Fifth
Avenue, "She's alive! She's alive!"
I get nasty comments. But I brush them off, because I pay my
rent with it, and that's all the validation I need. I live in
Manhattan and have vacations and can afford to go back to visit
England, and I'm doing what I love: I'm performing!