poetry
to keep non-poets away
that is not for me to say
i am here to help you see
the arts are always welcoming
you need only find the place that makes sense
in your own soul
everyone can poem
everyone can paint
everyone can act/sing/dance/make/
do
if you want to
if your drive is to express yourself
[it gets complicated when careers and livelihoods are at stake,
but art for art’s sake —
that is always for
every
one]
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?]
i think my lot in life
is to fight fascism with
art
humanity
and softness
i don’t know how much of an impact i can make
but i can make you think about the fact that i don’t consider
fascists
humans
and perhaps that’s enough to get our brains working on critical thinking once more
i often forget
that the sounds of the birds
can be my morning page music
and the crickets and wind and rain
can replace my podcasts
i no longer use perpetual sound
to block out my own inner voice
[that sounds like some kind of growth]
but i think i have now found myself using any auditory distractions
as literal distractions
from boredom
and i do wish i was more on board
being bored
for creativity’s sake
there’s something i know about myself
that others may not
it’s that i can always find a bright side
as long as i’m sharing the story with
someone else
got lost on a path i didn’t know well?
i got the opportunity to see bunnies and deer and one cat and two horses
and enjoy nature in a way i haven’t since
i grew up in middle of nowhere ohio
stumbled upon some uneven ground?
i am reminding myself of my rural roots
clambering over rocks and holes and
hopefully not twisting my ankle
like when i was an awkward teen
didn’t sleep well the first night of a retreat?
honestly, i’m getting back to my roots once more
adolescence
and early adulthood
and never sleeping more than an hour at a time
and waking up to see what’s happening online
[just as slow then as my service is here]
and while my younger years were not a piece of cake
by any means
and i wouldn’t want to relive them fully
getting the opportunity to rehash them with a
stronger body
and more calmed mind
surrounded by other artists…
kind of a quiet dream.
art
and artists
are the only things making me
hopeful
right now
[perhaps my art
could bring hope
to someone, somewhere]
create
creativity
or you’ll die from
lacking
a human need
have you ever seen art
that makes you want to
be
a better artist?
that makes you want to
pry yourself open
and create the most honest art you can?
that makes you want to
be vulnerable
be truthful
be fully yourself
through your own art?
and
even though you don’t know necessarily how
you do know
it’s possible
because of someone else’s
great, honest, vulnerable, truthful
art
?
i feel my ability
to create
has been sucked dry
by a cabinet that has yet
to even take power
and i don’t want to let it
the universe deserves art
art is what makes life worth living
it doesn’t even have to be spectacular, world-paradigm-shifting/
perspective-altering/makes-you-see-new-colors-on-earth
great
art
it just needs to be art
because every human is creative
and every human deserves to look at something
and feel —
even if that feeling is
‘i want to do that’
for inspiration
or for competition
or for proving something —
art takes humanity,
splits it into a thousand pieces,
and connects every piece of us
back with each other
and even if we only ever see two or three pieces
of ourselves
connect with others in our lifetime,
those pieces continue on:
in your stories to the friends you make later,
in one audience member’s recollection,
in your peers’ inspiration
and on to making their own creations
we all continue to live through our art
because humanity
is connection
and connection
is art
and art
is humanity
and all reversed and back again
and we cannot survive
as a species
without our art, our connection, and our humanity
so please, as defeated as you feel, artists, keep art-ing
i will
i just need to stream these feels into my art
first
and then maybe this poem will reside in the heart of someone else
who will help someone else
continue on
and
on
and
on
it
goes
Contemplations of Memories of Musical Theatre College
(In Canada)
those memories i don’t quite carry…
i have the stories
(the ones that i memorized like monologues,
like i do all my important memories,
because i know otherwise
they’ll float away
into the ether
of my mind)
but i don’t have any memories
of egregious things said to me
or a teacher crossing a line in front of me
(though i heard some second hand,
and those do stick in my mind,
as general feelings about particular instructors
moreso than the words/facts themselves)
for someone who rarely understands what their feelings are at any given moment,
i pretty much only remember emotions from any point in my life.
(and unfortunately
the memories that stick out to me
are all pretty much ones that fall under the umbrella of
despair.)
i had fun
at Musical Theatre College
(in Canada)
and yes, there were some crazy things we did
(but i also knew of other colleges that did more [or slightly less] heinous things
said more troublesome things
made more problematic decisions)
but i’d already been in this industry,
and in classes associated with this industry
for over a decade at that point,
so i suppose i had already taken for granted that
this was how we were supposed to find our
‘voices’
as artists.
which is absolutely not to say that what was done is what should be allowed
or is the ‘right way’ to train young, impressionable artists,
i simply stuck my bony chin out
and accepted it as it was(is)
and perhaps that makes me complicit
and perhaps that makes me traumatized
but there HAS to be a better way.
…right?
kipventures 