''I want to cram as many lifetimes into my lifetime as I can," says Laura Dare, barely pausing to catch a breath as she talks enthusiastically about her involvement in the upcoming Carmel Performing Arts Festival.

Dare will debut her solo performance art piece, "Yelling Theatre in a Crowded Fire" at Cherry Hall on Friday, Oct. 13.

"It''s about the crowded arena of what is theater and how sophisticated a palate we all have now, with TV, cable and the onslaught of information," she says. "The way I came up with the inside-outness of, it was by asking, How do I, little ol'' me, yell theater in the midst of it?" But most of all, says Dare, "It''s my take on various friendships, love, family. We all make choices every day and every minute."

The show combines "a few little stories on tolerance, to see how much I can take." It''s a very personal piece, in which Dare says she is not trying to be liked, which has been a challenge for her. "I''m a person who likes to be liked," she admits with a laugh. "Maybe I''m just old enough not to care. The difference between a performance piece and theater is that a performance piece doesn''t have to be popular. Or entertaining. Not that it''s theater of the assault or anything. It just needs to make a statement, to be thought-provoking."

This piece is not neat and tidy, she adds. "I''m taking the art of the play and just some shit I want to throw out there and see what sticks," she continues. "It''s really about truth--which sounds hokey--but it''s about stepping up to the truth."

Dare was invited to perform with the festival after producing artistic director Robin McKee heard her sing several of her songs, including "Cover Girl Rap," at Ocean Thunder. Dare, whose bluesy pop and breathy, clever lyrics are reminiscent of Ani DiFranco, has produced her own five-song CD. "I do sell it," she says reluctantly, "but it''s time for me to do a new one. I could use a really good producer."

Dare gives off an air of self-deprecation and realism without beating herself up, and has a sense of groundedness about making it, as they say. "I''m not into the ''I''m paying my dues in the honky tonk bar'' thing," she laughs, strumming an invisible guitar.