I feel like my music is just an extension of my acting. I treat

In the depths of the human spirit, there lies an undeniable drive to express oneself, to communicate not just through words, but through the art of storytelling. Grey DeLisle’s words, "I feel like my music is just an extension of my acting. I treat the songs like scenes that tell a story... it’s very similar," illuminate the timeless connection between the act of performance and the art of narrative. Whether on stage, in front of a camera, or through the strings of a guitar, the essence of storytelling remains the same: it is the soul of the artist that speaks through the medium, drawing from life’s vast experiences to convey deeper truths. DeLisle’s music and acting are not separate pursuits but different manifestations of the same creative force—the desire to share, to connect, and to move the audience with emotion.

In the ancient world, the Greeks and Romans were well aware of the power of performance to move people. The theater was central to their societies, not only as entertainment but as a means to express the complexities of the human condition. Sophocles, in his masterpiece Oedipus Rex, did not merely write a play for the sake of storytelling; he sought to provoke the audience to reflect on fate, free will, and human vulnerability. The characters in ancient dramas were more than just roles—they were vessels for deeper philosophical exploration. Much like DeLisle’s approach, these performances were designed to evoke emotion, inviting the audience into a shared experience that transcended the boundaries of the stage. The art of storytelling, in both music and drama, is rooted in the ancient tradition of making the audience a part of the story itself.

Consider the example of William Shakespeare, whose plays are a cornerstone of world literature. Shakespeare did not merely write lines for actors to speak; he created worlds that came alive through the performances of his characters. Much like DeLisle’s connection between music and acting, Shakespeare’s works were intended to be immersive experiences that reached beyond words. His actors did not just recite lines—they inhabited their roles, becoming the very essence of the characters. Shakespeare’s audience, much like DeLisle’s cartoon fans, was not bound by the usual conventions of high society. They were free to express themselves, to laugh, cry, and participate in the shared human experience. The connection between the artist and the audience, then as now, was both cathartic and transformative.

In DeLisle’s words, there is also a recognition of the genuine nature of the audience’s response. "My favorite thing is when cartoon fans show up to my live gigs! They are always the most kick-butt audience members because they’re not trying to act all cool like a lot of the music fans do! It’s refreshing!!" This observation speaks to the authenticity of the connection between performer and audience. In the ancient world, audiences were often expected to engage fully with the performance, without the self-consciousness that often comes with more formal settings. The Athenians celebrated their festivals in honor of Dionysus, where revelers were invited to not only watch the play but to participate in the collective emotions being portrayed. DeLisle’s admiration for her cartoon fans is a modern reflection of this ancient tradition—where the audience is unafraid to show their enthusiasm, their genuine love for the art, without worrying about appearing too cool or distant.

The lesson from DeLisle’s reflection is one of vulnerability and genuine connection. The most powerful performances, whether in music, acting, or life, are those where the artist and the audience are not separated by barriers of pretension. The ancients understood that true art required the artist to reveal their soul, and the audience to engage with it openly. Just as the actors of old would bare their emotions on the stage, so too should we, as artists and individuals, invite others to see us truthfully and without pretense. The connection that forms when we are authentic is a source of power and strength, whether in the performance of a piece of art or in the everyday encounters of our lives.

In our own lives, we must cultivate the courage to be genuine, to engage with the world and the people around us not with the mask of coolness or detachment, but with the openness and vulnerability of someone who is unafraid to share their true self. Like DeLisle’s cartoon fans, who can appreciate the art for what it is without concern for societal expectations, we must seek to live in a way that allows others to see us as we truly are—flaws, dreams, and all. In doing so, we forge deeper connections, both with others and with the work we produce.

Let us embrace the spirit of honesty and genuine participation in all that we do. Whether in art, in relationships, or in life, the true power of our actions lies not in pretension or the pursuit of superficial approval, but in the authenticity with which we engage with the world. Like the great actors and musicians of the past, let us take to the stage of life with courage, willing to show our true selves and, in doing so, inspire others to do the same. Through this, we create not only art but a world of deeper, more meaningful connections.