The Watcher is that part of us that critiques us from without, the one who makes us self-conscious, the one who says "don't" and "be careful".
The Watcher can be helpful in some cases, deathly in others.
I find myself living as The Watcher these days, while the Artist just takes over and does her thing when it's time to do so - and surprises The Watcher with her audacity, her strength, her ability to stay focused, her enjoyment. It's a strange out-of-body existence.
Articles keep popping up over the internet about the Artist, and she is due to call a public radio station for a live interview tonight. Then it's a piano tech, immersing herself in Lucia once again - chipping away at walls, enjoying those that have already fallen down.
The Watcher tries to calm the hysteria by convincing herself that no one outside of the Bay Area cares about this - but the Artist seems to know better.
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