the day after a show
but so much happened
on top of it
a meeting
a surgery
an emergency allergy reaction
[not mine tho]
and i can hardly revel in the feeling of the show
[or
even berate myself for
not promoting it
more]
except for the moment
i stayed in the moment
afterwards
talking
with the lovely lovely people involved
i think they’re all so rad
and i’m so glad
i got to tell them so
i have had
quite the busy
busy week
and today is the day for
resting
and chores that have been waiting
for at least a week
if not more to
be done
and this may end up being my week
from now until
who knows when
but i’ll keep trucking
i’ll keep doing
until i find myself
trying
something different
[i still want to write more than anything
but i can never think of anything
to actually write
about]
they say to be a good actor
you have to live some life first
is the same true about writers?
they say “write what you know”
and if you know shelter and
safety and never worrying
and never feeling anything
won’t your writing be…
kinda beige?
but as a writer,
as an actor,
as a poet,
we feel things with the intensity of a human being
thrust into the sun a thousand times over;
we take our [possibly mundane] lives
and crank our imagination up to eleven;
we seek experiences to suck life from
and try to make art from the remnants…
is simply living life too much for an artist,
or is it exactly what the artist needs?
[or am i over-thinking everything]
[and isn’t that what creatives do, too?]
perhaps my desire is to educate
perhaps my destiny is to entertain
perhaps i just need to make folks aware
that the issues seen here and there
are systemic
systematic
and sometimes
on purpose
because the problem with conspiracy theories
is that there is a fine, fine line
between a theory about something crazy
and a retelling of something
that has actually happened
to a non-white person
in the past
[and, honestly, today]
so tired
so sleepy
so nervous
so alive
i’m standing at a precipice
a precipice of my own making
and i think i’m
excited
here we are
working[auditioning]actor
less time for
writing
more time for
figuring out
[im]perfectionism
performing
anxiety
anticipation
excitement
fear
hope
acting
for better or worse
it was my first training
it was my most training
it is the time that i feel the most myself
on stage
even with the
anxiety
and fear
there is always still
anticipation
to excitement
to hope
[if you’ll be in nyc
tomorrow, may 17th,
come on out!]
creativity streams from me
from my fingertips to a computer screen
from my acting choices to an audience’s eyes
from my body on a circus apparatus
and i feel
almost
creative
i really don’t know
what i should be doing
when all is in limbo
and my mind flails out for
something
anything to do —
if i should be going out for roles
clearing out those spiderwebs and
putting my acting brain to task
if i should be writing more
and speaking up against power
with the words my fingertips
help me find
morning after morning after morning
if i should be using my body
in the ways i’ve learned
so recently — power in muscles
consistently picking up my own bodyweight
for fun
for art
for staying fit
in imminent societal collapse
but when i can’t figure out what i should do
i tend to mend things that need mending;
i darn my own and my spouse’s socks,
i close up a hole the puppy has torn in her
cheaply-made and roughly-loved toy,
i patch up jeans
and other pants,
and make art out of scraps,
and maybe that’s the “should” in all this
uncertainty —
make sure we
are not as beholden to consumerism
as we very well could be
kipventures 