feedback from the last show
A few days after the last show with the drags, my friend texted me this:
you kinda killed to be fair
killed it :D
not sure if you killed also, but seems kind of up your alley :D
I've been feeling proud of my performance ever since. And I responded with:
Well. The poem never really answers who killed whom :D But the implications are there.
Amongst the drags
2 weeks until my next appearance at the drag show. I've finally written the first draft of the show. In all fairness, both of the poems are already done.
I'm slowly starting to feel some sort of excitement about it.
If it wasn't for the allergies that have totally killed my voice. Even breath support exercises are not helping too much, it's still weak and somewhat croaky. I can only hope Mother Nature will ease up with the allergens by mid-Aug, and just keep practicing breathing.
summer update
Today I got the confirmation for the next date when I'm performing at the drag show. I'm rather pleased to be invited back.
Thank fuck this time it's not all love, lace and Prince, but everyone can pick their own theme for their act. So, I'm going all in and bringing my distaste for this capitalism malarkey and how religiously people take it.
But this weekend it's all murder mystery poetry recordings first, tho.
In other news - yes, I'm still alive, for better or worse.
2 sleeps to go
Me freaking out 2 nights before I have to do a (solo) performance: tell me again that I'm allowed to fuck up.
Bandmate: you are supposed to.
Me: huh? You want me to fuck up?
Bandmate: yeah, otherwise it's kind of boring - you'll come, you'll say your piece, who'd remember that!
Me: when you say it like that, you have a point.
Bandmate: you should work it in your show. towards the end. if you haven't naturally fucked up, do the scripted one.
What do poets do on staycation
Forget going to Paris to write in café's with all sorts of traditional pastries (and I can't really drink a lot of coffee anyway). Especially when the poet in question also does spoken word, aiming for rap, playing the piano and the bass. The best place to be is where all the gear is, y'know.
I have spent the weekend mostly writing, some house work, some just doing nothing.
Today I finally felt like getting my yoga mat out to spend some time on it. That was after I did so much vocal practice that all words stopped making sense to me and became just an alphabet soup, but made of sounds.
It's raining outside.
The magic of the potato salad
I've been working on a new poem with a slightly new concept. I was really stuck with it. And then I decided to make potato salad.
Now, the salad is almost ready, and I have an amazing idea for the poem.
Tbh, you wouldn't believe how much of my creative work has happened thanks to the potato salad making ritual.
I am also abnormally glad that potatoes don't have too much Nickel in them.
Only so many words per day
I know I've been a lazy blogger recently. But my excuse is that I've been writing lots of new stuff in my notebook.
But I'll tell you one thing though - knee rehab is exactly what I didn't imagine knee rehab to be. But as long as it helps
Why poetry, why
Why did I start writing poetry? A choice I made when I was just a young thing, and never questioned afterwards. Until today.
I was reading this article by Doc on common writer mistakes (like spending time sharing self deprecating memes instead of actually writing), and then my cat sighed when I was somewhere mid way through it. As my focus was pulled out of the article and back into the practical reality, it lead me to a realisation. Something that I should have known about myself, but in a stupid meta way I didn't because that's the whole point of it.
Do you know why I started writing poetry as a teenager?
Because I didn't know how to talk about the stuff that was happening inside me. I don't even want to use the word "feelings" as it wasn't just that. I didn't know how to talk about the things I was *thinking*, let alone feeling.
I was born and grew up in a complicated place during complicated times. Not saying things was a common survival technique. Politically and socially.
But as a new human being on this planet, I had to cope somehow. Even more - I had to figure shit out. So, I read. I read a lot. I read books given to me, books I found, books that were being hid from me. Anything with words in it (which includes a book on preserving fruit, and let me tell you, it was a bit of a downer as far as expectations about cool stories with cherries go).
I tried writing my own stories. But I wasn't ready for that yet.
So, I kept reading and it worked. I was starting to see and realise that human non-tangible inside stuff. But the more I read, the more I felt the need to also get to know my own self. Who am I? What kind of a person am I? What do I like?
Amongst the books I had devoured were also plays and poetry collections. For some reason I decided to try and write a line. Followed by a different line, not necessarily logically and chronologically related to the first one.
Before I knew it, I was buying more and more notebooks. Turns out that there was (and still is) a lot to process in lines, verses, and free form formatting or all those words. Not explaining myself, but sorting my more elusive shit in a way it makes sense to me.
Not having to coherently and logically explain and prove my arguments stated was the relief I found in writing poetry.
All the things I never learnt to talk about, all the observations about the world that I don't know how to voice, secret thoughts, unexpected feelings, reasons for my anger, all of that goes in the poems that I can't stop writing.
And as far stories go, I'm learning to write those, too.
Two book summary in one
It suddenly struck me that the shortest possible summary of both of my books would be:
“People make no sense to me, but I tried to get along, then I gave up, also angry.”
Chronologically speaking: Book1 being the trying to get along, then Book2 - giving up, also angry.
Out of control by flesh prison
One of the things that make my voice recordings hard work, is me tensing my shoulders and kind of pulling them up. This is making my voice sound not good.
I really need to get back to practicing yoga on regular basis. That stuff really helps with having more control over my own body movements outside of the practice as well.
Ah, what we do for art
For "research purposes" and "to practice rhythm", I find myself watching Aesop Rock live performances.
(Yes, me and my designer are working on something tremendously exciting. We love this new hobby.)
Time for Marlowe (and I mean L'Orange & Solemn Brigham duo) videos now.
I can assure you, this is all in the name of science.
Micro fiction based on tonights movie
Police officer: Miss, why are you walking?
Me: Oh, I don't have a driver's license.
Police officer: Miss, _why_ are you walking??
Me: Don't worry about it. I can't drive and my boyfriend says he won't drive me around any more because I'm too fat and I need the exercise.
Police officer: Who is your boyfriend, miss?
Me: Ah. His name is, err, Ricky. He's white. Err. And he's the pillar of our community.
Police officer: Sorry for troubling you, have a nice day.
Too many hobbies
Since the little show I did, quite a few things have happened in my life. One of them is being busy with Pangea Press editing. Because of that I find myself having less time for my other hobbies. So, I prioritise.
I don't plan, I manage priorities.
As far as my hobbies go, I tend to get on with the ones I feel like doing at that particular time.
I have written one and a half new poetry books (known as Book3 and Book4), but when I sit down with my coffee on a Saturday morning, I find myself opening audio recording editing tools. Instead of the writing ones.
Which can only mean that the podcast episode 5 is progressing, but the books stay as they are for now. And that is not a bad thing. I am also in talks with some music performers about some of the spoken poems. My designer whom you all know and love, has also been tinkering with sound production, instead of the Book3 website. Which I also find to be very exciting at this point.
I know that I will pick up the books again, they will see the light, and maybe even some reader's faces. But as it stands now, here on the 14th of February, I seem to be more enthusiastic about spoken word poetry. And making real life appearances at local events.
It thrills me to find new ways to be a poet. Taking my own advice and being brave.
Oh ok, sure
I've been writing a lot of new poems lately. Just that when I look at all these things I've written, I feel like a total psychopath. I mean, I am aware of my ability to rationalise and overrationalise all that can be called emotional or human. But all of this...
I guess Book4 is going to be a bit of hot and cold, and even colder. If I ever brave finishing it, that is. All things considered.
We'll see.
Either way, I also did some work on the next podcast episode. And that's almost human! :D
New year, new poems
I might have mentioned that Decembers tend to be a bit harder on me mentally. I don't even fully understand why. There's always the feeling of rushing to finish things, combined with all the spam inviting me to shop, and my natural state of not really wanting to do what I am told to do. So, all in all, Decembers usually tend to be a bit less productive, and a bit too weird for me.
But today is January, and I have already written quite a few new poems! Woo to me.
And it reminds me, how being somewhere in the late stages of finishing a book (in this case Book3, but it also had happened with Book2 as well), I decide to Not do another one. No more, enough, all those determined to stop words. And then I obviously find myself just writing, writing, writing more, and knowing that there will be another book. There's a theme, working title and everything (this calls for a 'lol' at the end :D).
I'm doomed :D
Be brave and have fun, folks.
P.S. I've recorded a new podcast ep. It just needs editing, but I got myself a new software to edit it in, so it might take a while as I need to learn the soft as I go :D
