If you destroy my body right now, it would be an inconvenience, but that’s it. I am not here. My consciousness, my sense of self, is somewhere outside this Tonal. I project myself from someplace else, and I move my hands and speak and allow something to come forth from a remote distance. This body receives impressions and I sense them; and sometimes, when the connection is turned off, what remains is a human body with a personality, with the same concerns and fears as anyone else’s; with a little more information, training, and abilities that I wouldn’t have otherwise; but nothing beyond this realm.
Just like with a video game, the player is outside the game and moving that character about. I am not in the service of the person you see. This body of mine is being created, maintained, and directed in the service of something else, something that to this realm is like the player is to the computer. And I can be here or I can move away. I am the screen upon which the story of the works is projected.
Koyote was a name given at some point, and then it became active, and it began to eat my heart and penetrate every nervous fiber on my body, like a root canal. It was that painful, an it burrowed into every nerve and gland until it ate the body all up. Now, my essence looks like my vehicle.