Ive got muse out the ying-yang brother.
Sometimes I think that all I have is muse, that I'm just some rare almost afflicted super-saturation of muse with a pulse and legs. ( and even they are Muse-y , elongated unreal Muse bourne conceits.)
But I fInd for me at least if I muse right out to the borders I find I'm like at the edge of an inclosed floating paddling pool of muse bobbing on the surface of an infinite ocean of the as yet unmused.
Whoa look out muse alert
Strangers don't as a rule look each other in the eye long enough for much to be transmitted. It's just not safe and it doesn't feel natural. I'm impressed that performers do this as a primary part of their jobs. They might not recognize how primary it is. They might think it's about their funny lines or their skills but it's my opinion, after much observation, that it's about the eye contact or in the audiences perception and/or approximation of it they can amplify and personalize .
I'm working on the theory that more is communicated in a profound glance than in any singular verbal or written statement. Tale your significant other for example. Sometimes a shared look conveys as much as a book written by each about the other.
And whether an audience member receives what you design your gaze to transmit or simply uses the contact like an empty palate to invent what they need to hear the point is more or less the same.
That is why theatre will never die. Every chattering ego in the room or street corner focuses on something outside itself and in so doing rests it's elbow on the shovel of it's own self regard.
I've got to a point in my mimehood where I risk simply looking at people trusting that given what you perceive is what you want/need to, that they will see in my interaction with them and others what they need.
I don't know how many people would agree with this but it's my muse and I'm sticking to it and a lot of what I do is this very experiment.