April 8, 2024

the world turns
rotates
and expected bright and dark
bright and dark
bright and dark
interrupts
the brightness of the dark
blocking out the daytime
for a moment
for a few minutes
the birds quiet
the spouse pauses work
and we look through two pairs of sunglasses
as the family group chat in cleveland
explodes
with iphone photos
and pictures of dslr cameras
alike
showing totality
showing what i could have seen
if i’d traveled for the experience

[still not quite as cool as a few years ago
when i observed even less totality
while flying on my moon-shaped lyra
outside and sunglassed and free]

July 22, 2023

the nerves
of all this past week
seem to melt away like butter
the morning of the show
just because
i’m so tired
and achey
and sleepy
and in pain
that i don’t even have the capacity
to feel much
of anything else

…hooray?

July 21, 2023

have i pushed myself
too far
too hard?

will i last
until
just past
the show?

can my body
ever
recover?

or am i making a big deal
out of this body
i have no idea how to deal with?

June 3, 2023

if only i could put all my hobbies
and helpfuls
into one basket of poetry—
the focus that comes from embroidery,
the loss of time and self
and feeling of fullness of art
of acting,
the power
and grace
of pulling one’s own body weight
up to an aerial apparatus
and seeing the whole room
spin
just this side of uncontrollably
around me,
and the expression
of my deepest most inner
mind
in a single poem
(or two)
(or three)

this is how you get to know me.

March 24, 2023

the thing they don’t tell you
about using your own body as art
is that some days
and even some weeks
things will feel harder/
take longer/
not align the way you’re used to/
but
if you push through
build the strength/endurance/technique you need
you’ll survive those times
and come out the other side
even more artful than you were

(at least that’s what i’m counting on—
i might still be in ‘one of those weeks’
even now

we’ll see
we’ll see)

December 4, 2022

how
can i constantly feel
like a novice
in all i do?

i’ve performed all my life,
but i still feel second/
third/
fourth/fifth/sixth/
end of the line
when it comes to opportunities
for the stage/screen arts.

i’ve had six plus years in the air,
but i’m a perpetual student
here.

i’ve written
every
single
morning
poetry
for over a year and a half,
but i’m still too scared to submit,
to hear the possibility
that i’ll forever be
amateur;
living only for the love of words,
never ‘going anywhere’ with it.

and what’s so bad about that?

capitalism/colonialism/white supremacy
forces our minds to find some meaning
out of what we can produce/expert the field
in a way that makes money—
churn out content/
content/
you need to create more content…

where is the place for creating for the sake of creativity?

and why can’t i find my own balance?

i think
it’s because
i just want to feel
like i know
something.
i want to feel adept/
professional/
expert/
master/
ace/
like i don’t have to second guess every choice i make—

that’s what i want out of my crafts.

August 7, 2022

an ode to circus bruises

you browngreygreenpurplebluesometimesred
indication that a new skill has been unlocked
and unlocked
and unlocked again
continued practice making more marks
but eventually
in a week
or two
or month
or so
you’ll fade to skin
and the skill will be rote
and the bruises no longer pop up
because my body
now knows
that pose

and on to the next one