lend me a
bit of a
repose
jump in and then
jump out for a
moment
i can run and run
and get things done
but i need a break every
now and again
even if it’s just half an hour
to write my morning poetry
[and then back to grinding]
lend me a
bit of a
repose
jump in and then
jump out for a
moment
i can run and run
and get things done
but i need a break every
now and again
even if it’s just half an hour
to write my morning poetry
[and then back to grinding]
i thought i was busy
before working
five jobs
[six if you split up
the two i’m doing for this show]
and while the theatre gig is taking up
so much more of my time
than all the others
combined
it is the place i feel
most at home
and like i kinda know
what i’m doing
and i’m trying to listen
when my own guts
and the universe
say something
the pull to listen to
my high-school-age sound-track
is so damn strong
helping to direct a play
set in 2003
in two boys’ high school careers
and high school emotions
and high school coming-outs
[comings-out?]
it reminds me so highly
of my own story in
2006
the first love
[though mine did not last]
[thank goodness]
the self-hatred and
fear of the world
as you find your own footing
in your own community
[though my church was not a christian one]
even as that shifts to a different community
perhaps a community
of two
“we’re keeping it alive”
“what?”
“each other”
is one of the truest moments
i’ve ever heard on the page
and i hope it still rings so true
to a public audience
on the stage
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]
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
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!]
there’s something that i’d love to capture
in words and poetry
that i don’t know if i ever will
because i can’t really explain
even in sense memory
the vibes of the car ride
through protected valley park
and up into the city/suburb
that was my second home/
that i knew was my grandparents’ first home/
that my whole family had worked
or played at
or seen
at least once,
and how it kept that vibe
of excitement
and homecoming
for so long —
long enough that i can remember it
as an early early memory
riding in the backseat/
riding in the passenger’s seat/
driving myself/
knowing where i was going to
was where i belonged
even if i felt just a little out of whack with everyone
it was more like a phase shift
than a whole different universe
[like most of my life]
and i could get lost
in the flow of acting
or dancing
or singing
or hanging with friends
or creating something
or everything
and simply the anticipation
of arriving at a place
that i knew so well
and felt
was mine
that even the drive felt like
home
[and it’s actually very different now,
but last i was there
it still smelled the same]