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
still on the high from the retreat
trying to connect with my own creative vibe
outside of all the wonderful folks
i got to know
over three long/short days
i think [my] lesson of the retreat is:
everyone has such different methods of storytelling
and modes of writing
and even within one person there are
worlds and citizens and characters and genres
and everyone listening is so, so supportive
i think i may be able to bring something
next year
[better start writing/planning
now!]
[and that is the first time that has felt exciting
and daunting
rather than daunting and a laborious struggle]
how quickly we get used to things —
lack of sleep
un-flavored coffee
living in the woods
being around people
and how quickly we end up missing it
when, inevitably, events end
what i’m trying to say is
i miss this retreat
already
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.
fascinating
to be so devoted
to encouraging folks
to join the circus
because, for me, circus means
a place where our human bodies
are the art — they become the
strength and ability we never thought we’d have
the magic of human feats
and humanity
is how i see
the circus
but i know
that’s aerial circus
modern cirque, if you will
traditional circus
[though i do love the music and the costumes and the vibe]
has a horrible history
of exploiting animals
[and people, honestly]
in troubling conditions
[to say the least]
and the word “circus”
to an elephant
may be
complete
and utter
trauma
when i think of an elephant, i see giant gentleness, i hear the stomps of their feet and the flapping of their ears, and i feel a sense of peace and safety
~~~
when i think of an elephant, i see mammoth past, i hear calls for connection for the present, i feel uncertainty for a future for them all
~~~
when i think of an elephant, i see a being, i hear a whole herd, i feel the lifetimes of their ancestors and descendants all around me
~~~
rsvp to The Elephant Play here
seeing other folks’ art
is always so cool
and makes me want to write too
but i feel like i either
have nothing specific to write about
or too much in my brain
ready to all come out in some sort of
cacophonous stew
[but the brilliance of this metaphor
is that stew still has discernible parts
that can be picked away from the whole,
so maybe i should just try
and maybe one vegetable
will grow
a garden of a play
someday]
a play
made of poetry
an art experience
guided by the muses
turning the mirror back on
the artist himself
a connection
with a group
who might just make new york
worth staying
if
we’re staying
kipventures 