Abstract Poem II

Exercise dos
Take a poem by you or someone else and change most of the words:
Count the nouns, verbs, and adjectives. List these parts of speech in numbers equal to that in the poem. Replace the corresponding words in the poem. You can play around with the choices and modify the verbs appropriately.

(from ee )

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

--
(verbs(12): grow, find, search, greet, hate, heal, snuff, reach, teach, grasp, cut, quit
nouns (20): blanket, queen, perfume, alligator, novel, feather-duster, scythe, prayer, pain, top-hat, passageway, nation, steamboat, snowflake, ladybug, amulet, talisman, wrinkle, timepiece, swirl
adj (14): gray, withered, stooped, crunchy, stiff, lackadaisical, carefree, ephemeral, caustic, roundabout, grand, lofty, equivocal, soft)
--

i find You God for most this stiff
top-hat: for the searching crunchy passageways of scythes
and a withered soft steamboat of pain; and for everything
which is grand which is equivocal which is yes

(i who have taught and am caustic again today,
and this is the nation's talisman; this is the amulet
queen of prayer and of ladybugs and wrinkles: and of the stooped
ephemeral feather-duster carefree timepiece)

how should greeting hating grasping cutting
healing any—growing from the blanket
of perfume--alligator merely reaching
snowflake lackadaisical You?

(now the swirl of my swirls roundabout and
now the novel of my novels is gray)

Poetry Forms

(I am going through my mom's book of poetry forms. I was doing this before, in the US, but lost my disk with them on it. Woe was me... Luckily, I had posted many on this blog. Since moving halfway across the world lends itself as a nice fresh start, I decided to go through the forms again, from the beginning.

Feel free to take the forms and experiment with them. High heavenly rankings to those who post their poems in the comment section...)


1. ABSTRACT POEM

Experiments of pattern and sound
The meaning is secondary to the sound of the word
Can also be abstract based on density of images

Exercise Uno take a word and say it over and over until it loses its meaning so then the mind is focused on sound. Then write whatever comes to mind because of the sounds.

(Word choice: peanut)

The Plexiglas crack of finery
spews gross pleas into cherry tree smiles. The girls
forgot to love the sticky canvass of personality
and whisk the brisk bunny away. Many swish
across the velvet mud; the whole of happiness
stirs pudding in wooden hate, crying out to woven
pitfalls. Stopping. Cursing
the swords of saints,
generosity seeps deep into bowls of lemons.

saai can mean left, sand, or late, depending on tone * the cup i'm drinking out of says: If you want a wicked time/then Amy is the one/Because she's really funky/and flippen loads of fun! * There is a blue flower painted on the back of the cat Joel sent me from MexicoTOWN * I can still wear flip flops * I always buy the wrong drink because I don't read labels carefully enough to find that the contents are written in English somewhere on there too * Eating Thai pineapple is a sort of rebirth * P'George spelled Sinderlela like that * I have my own room * My mind is expanding * I'm eating a chocolate covered bread stick and when an officemate handed it to me she said, "pock-EE" because it's called Pockey * I have a blue ink spot right above my writer's bump because I had a leaky pen when I prayed this morning... through ink * I don't have to impress anyone * I'm not driving and don't pay for car insurance * I eat Indian food everyday for 20 baht a plate, in someone's front "yard" * P'Nui always says "closely" when she means "close," so to her, something is always "closely to" something else. * My friend May has the most mischeivous laugh I've ever heard and it is loud * Pink is not a feminine color in Thailand * Being a transvestite is perfectly acceptable here * I don't have to prepare for auditions anymore * I have three poetry braids going on at once and they are good for me * My relationship with God is not abstract * Thais believe that if your spoon hits someone elses at dinner (when you're both taking soup from the same bowl because everyone shares the same bowl) that means you will have a visitor and for some reason that's a bad thing * I have enough

Song For Joel

(guitar picking includes what sounds like a clock chime... hurray)

I wait for the clock
There are better things to do
learn the language, or sleep
write a letter to you

I wait for a prayer
confirmation song, a dream
Walk across an ocean
wake a faithless scream

I wait for the silence
when words are not required
just a sigh, from time
a whine: I'm tired

I wait for surprise
hope I'll not expect
so much I'm disappointed
and don't want what I get

I wait for a selah
a break into a twist
when nothing can be questioned
when no one can be missed.

This is for Bose. And anyone else who is cool enough to appreciate it.

INTERVIEW GAME

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better ! If I already know you well, expect the questions may be a little more intimate!
3. You WILL update your [online journal] with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

These question are from my cousin:

1. Do you find yourself gravitating towards/exploring any particular subject matter in your writing lately? Say a little about that...

I wish I was more disciplined in my writing so I could answer this better. I’ve noticed that disappointment—in others (particularly leaders and mentors), in the protagonist’s self—comes up quite a bit. I’m haunted by what the English language means to the rest of the world, but I’m struggling with a way to express my thoughts about it. In my songs, the idea that God is everywhere keeps popping up. In free writing, these ideas of what the blues means to me are brought about three or four times per session. I don’t know how to write about that because everything I could say about it, James Baldwin has already said better in Sonny’s Blues. I’m not really working on a particular piece at the moment, so this question is a bit hard to answer.

2. How do you and your brother relate differently to your parents?

He might disagree, but I always figured Ian could relate better to my mother than I can and that I relate better to my dad. I have a lot more in common with my dad and ha, know how to get what I want out of him. I’ve always been able to put the cute on so he’d run out the door to buy me a pack of skittles. My mom doesn’t operate that way. I’m being silly here… Actually, I think it’s because my personality is more similar to my dad’s. Even though I don’t talk to him as often as I’d like, I find that he pops up all the time in my actions and reactions. For instance, the other day an Indian gentleman tried to sell me something at the market--like a lottery ticket or something--by buttering me up, saying, “Hello Beautiful. Where are you from, Beautiful?” And I looked at him straight in the face and said, “India,” and walked away. That’s the kind of gruff thing my dad pulls on salespeople. Also, when I come up against something that hinders productiveness—people dallying around trying to make decisions, I tend to get overly frustrated and grumpy. Not to say that all that I get from my dad is being gruff and grumpy… we’re both quick to act, looking for ways to be wise, apt take adventures, prone to talking a lot and too loud (something that separates me from most Thais. Ha.), sociable, and uninhibited. I think we usually attack assignments in a similar way and that’s why we can communicate well. My mother is a dear, but we misunderstand and misinterpret each other a lot.

As far as how my brother and I relate to our parents as a contingent, well, I guess that is always changing. He sees them more than me now, but when I lived with my parents, Ian coming was kind of a phenomenon. I think my parents have been trying, for the past few years, to figure out how to relate to me as I am not really living with them, but they still believe I am under their authority (from a Haskell principle I was reminded of many times about a woman being under the authority of her father until she got married…) Ian never had this kind of philosophy to factor into his relationship with them. So, though I’m not sure of the specifics, I know that Ian and I relate to them quite differently.

3. How do you think other people see you; is that something you think much about?

Whoa, what a question. I have had a lot of relationships with people—blame it on years and years of theater friendships, when I’d have three weeks to try to spend enough time with someone to feel comfortable on stage with them, the performance-run time of feeling like I’d gained a new best friend, and then another two weeks of show-friend with drawl. In this context, I am quite used to the fact that people see me as quiet and mousy at first. Maybe even ditzy because I get quite nervous and stammering when I am with people I don’t know. Then, they hear me say something like, “that shit cracks me up!” and they know I am cool and have a naughty sense of humor. As a short person, I will probably always try to compensate size with volume—and I don’t just mean verbal volume.

Those are the generalizations. People who know me well probably all see me quite different. I think at the office they think I’m the loud American who never stops playing around. I’m not sure, but that’s what I think. I’ll always wonder what my Christian brothers and sisters think of me—they are the people I whose opinions I think about the most.

So I think about this stuff a lot. I will admit that people’s opinions of me don’t factor into my actions much. Ha.

4. Your experience of coming to faith seems much different than mine, but I've only heard scraps. Can you talk about that--give your "testimony," in a nutshell? What made you follow?

Coming to Faith. Right. I guess my testimony would be just an account how my faith has grown… It’s all in phases, you know, but I do believe it gets bigger every time. Some people would condemn my story as maybe an account of “roller coaster faith” but get real… resurrection requires dying and being brought back to life. Okay, I’ll try to stay nutshellish.

I can’t remember a time I didn’t pray regularly. I do remember a time when my mother and I prayed for me to receive Jesus. I’ll be damned if I was older than four. As a child, I always talked to God and God got out of all kinds of messes. When I was about seven or eight I told God that I felt pretty comfortable with him but I didn’t know who Jesus was. Around the age of 11 I heard Jesus talking to me around a campout fire and pretty much made a deal with him that if he let me do theater, I’d follow him. Two years later I got baptized and my mother started bringing me to Haskell’s Weds. Night study. I noticed that it spoke to me and that was probably where I learned how to use the Bible—as an opportunity to listen to God. After a break-up and what my HS teacher called me “hitting rock bottom” (I would later find out to be my first major fit of depression) I gave my life to Jesus again, this time no strings attached. That was on my seventeenth birthday, the day I decided to hate the world and find life in Jesus.

Then I went to college and my faith was tested, but it didn’t take me long to find out that God was a living creature and not someone that could just disappear if I decided He didn’t exist. I did decide that a few times, but it didn’t last long. It was as ridiculous as saying Erinn didn’t exist. I’ve known them both for about as long.

Then I got out of depression and had a lovely phase of “no condemnation” that some might call my Zooropa days… Ha, you know, “the greater the fall the greater the grace.” I joke about that, but it actually happened. I’m probably still in that phase but honestly, I know it is necessary and that God is in on it with me. Because of it, I have been able to be more vibrant about the gospel, fall in love (not in a romantic sense) with tons more people then when I was trying to be a careful Christian, and be all together more alive. So, the current phase of my faith is God showing me how to actually live it… you know, Living Hope type stuff. Eternity starts today, type stuff. This is the best phase yet. I have learned how to ward off depression with solid, life-giving truths. I still have a lot to learn, but the best thing about learning to follow Jesus is that there are no deadlines.


5. How have you changed during your travels?

Each travel experience has been it’s own beast and changed me in different ways. I’ve only had three major experiences. Here they are:

a) Traveling around the country basically taught me that I am a human. It’s the kind of stuff I’ve heard most learn after being married for a year or two—all of our own annoying qualities. If you sit in the car with someone (who is not involved with you, romantically) for two months and only spend about 6 hours away from them the entire time, you get the crash course self-horror… and you don’t get the make-up sex to help you deal with it. Ha, I mean, the romantic euphoria.

b) Going to South Africa felt like a major failure. I learned that the world is full of terrible people and most of them are Anglos. You’d think that 13 years in Detroit Public Schools would have taught me that, but visiting Post-Apartheid South Africa was like the icing on that white-guilt cake. That said, I look back at South Africa as being the most beautiful country in the world—the astounding landscape, the misery, and the beauty that has come out of the misery. I’d go back there in a heartbeat. Plus, not a week goes by when I don't think of the wonderful friends I made there.

c) Moving to Thailand has given me a lot of confidence; I have better sense that God is leading me. I feel that everything in my life was necessary so that I might have ended up here … it’s a really solid feeling—all the bad things that led up to me wanting to leave the states, like that horrible van with no heat in the winter, being in debt when it was time to pay taxes, getting bombed with huge medical bills for a misdiagnosed eye--all of that bullshit has just paved my way for this fabulous experience. On the material end of things... From Thailand I've learned so much about globalization, about asian culture, about how to tolerate chili peppers (and how once you start eating them you must apply them to your food, lest you eat a tasteless meal...)

Overall, I've learned how to travel. It's a skill, ya know. You only learn it by doing it. Like Tai Chi.

Kid's Cartoons - Dave Chappelle

something Ben might call hiLARious

Barack Obama

Okay, so most of you know that I have adopted a new form of entertainment: Keeping track of Obama. His words of uniting the American government has helped ease my cynicism that our government is just two sides trying to win some terrible game. I have been informed of a critique that "for all his talk, he comes down liberal on every issue." Though it took me a little while to work through that, I have come to terms with it: Of course he comes down liberal on every issue. The man is a liberal. But that is not his point. He's not asking the American liberals to be more conservative or conservatives to be more liberal; he's asking us to listen to each other, even though we are conservative or liberal.

Okay, so after reasoning that out, I asked myself, "Yeah, but is the man listening to the other side or is he only saying that he's listening?"

I put the question aside and then got my answer in this article:

No Music to Their Ears
By: David Yepsen February 13, 2007 07:58 AM EST
U.S. Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., smiles with his wife Michelle at a rally on the University of Illinois-Chicago campus. (AP Photo/Charles Rex Arbogast)
url:

Barack Obama is a different sort of presidential candidate.
Yes, we all know he's the first African American with a realistic chance of winning the presidency. But he is also downsizing the pandering.
In appearances, he often tells Democrats things many don't care to hear.
For example, at his rally in Cedar Rapids on Saturday, he was asked about cutting military spending to free up money for other priorities, something liberal Democrats have been after for decades.
But Obama said "in terms of the overall military budget, I will tell you that we are going to have problems making immediate cuts, because one of the untold stories about this war is the way it has depleted our military.
"The fact of the matter is, we are going to need more troops than we currently possess" because of the pressures Iraq has placed on the National Guard and reserves, he said. "We're going to have to build up the size of our active regular forces. We're going to have to replace the equipment that has been depleted ... There's probably going to be a bump in initial military spending just to get back to where we were."
After that, the United States can reprioritize some military spending. "If we do those things, potentially, over time, we can see some savings. That doesn't mean, by the way, that we're still not going to have to have some of the conventional military forces that we need to protect ourselves from more potential attacks or threats." He cited North Korea as an example.
Obama got virtually no applause to that answer.
Later, he took a question from a teacher about the No Child Left Behind Act. That law is hugely unpopular with many teachers and their unions. Bashing it is popular with Democratic politicians. (No applause line is left behind in attacking it.)
Obama didn't disappoint: "No Child Left Behind left the money behind," he pandered.
But then he talked about "the things that were good about No Child Left Behind," like high standards for students because American children will have to compete for jobs with students from countries with more rigorous schools. The act also identified groups of students who need extra help in school, such as minority students, he said.
Obama told one teacher questioner that teachers deserve more pay to attract people to the profession, a line that drew whoops and applause. "I have to say though, there's got to be a bargain with teachers in terms of more pay," he said.
"They've got to get more pay, but there's also going to be more accountability." (There was audible rustling and mumbling in the seats at that.)
"Now, the accountability can't just be based on standardized test performance only, but that has to be part of the mix, and there has to be assessment tools that are developed in concert with teachers," Obama said.
"If teachers are underperforming, we're going to get them the help they need. But we're not going to pretend they are not underperforming, and that is something we're going to have to make happen," the senator said.
Such candor is refreshing, and it may contribute to his initial success in attracting voters looking for something new in a politician. He said in an interview later it's one way to end voter cynicism about politicians.
But can a candidate win if he tells Democratic constituency groups things they don't want to hear?
"We'll find out," he said. "If you go down that path of trying to tell everybody exactly what they want to hear, you can't actually build a consensus to govern. And I'm not just trying to win an office. I'm trying to figure out: Can we build a consensus to actually solve these problems that are complicated? I've got to make sure that I'm taking the voters through a process whereby when they vote for me, they know, 'Here's how he thinks.' "

David Yepsen is a columnist for the Des Moines Register. The Register and politico.com are sharing content for the 2008 presidential campaign.
---

Some final words about this and then I'll give it a rest. I have really been blessed by his mentioning that teachers will be held accountable. I am discovering that my politics are really based on the education system. I am not a one issue voter, but as some people are drawn to abortion politics and some others are drawn to the environment politics, I find that it's education stuff that really hits me the most. This is based on my upbringing, no doubt, and the anger instilled in me about DPS. I joke about how little funding we got at DSA, or how awful some of the teachers were, but seriously, Obama is the first person(I've noticed) to really hone that problem down into productive and reasonable ideas.

Tom Waits- Letterman interview 2002

another great combo

Latest song

I wrote this when I couldn't sleep the other night because of my backpain. It might go on the gospel album, if the others like it:

No title yet, but if I was held at gunpoint about it, I'd probably say it was called "You Are Alive."--it has a slow, traditionalish gospel tune.

If every moment is a renewed blessing
If every choice is a chance to progress
Then Lord, take this day, this very hour
Teach us to live out your righteousness

You are alive. Our hands are open wide
You are alive-- and faithfully dwelling inside
You are alive. Our hands our open wide
You are alive. You are alive.

We give you our plans. Our every idea
We think that we have as direction from you.
We give you our longings, our lacks and our fears.
All the lies that we cling to, we exchange them for truth.

And we believe-- our hands are open wide.
We believe-- you are faithfully dwelling inside
We believe-- our hands are open wide
We believe. We believe.

There is nothing we could do
To be worthy of this gift from you
Beautiful giver of life
You desire mercy, not sacrifice.

If every instant is a renewed blessing
If every choice is a chance to progress
Then Lord take this day, this very hour
Teach us to live out your righteousness.

We believe. Our hands are open wide.
We believe you are faithfully dwelling inside.
You are alive. Our hands are open wide.
You are alive. You are alive.

Most shocking statement I've made in a long time:

"I spent a week with a Mormon family.

It was the closest to God I've ever been."

Pandora Observation II

Ani DiFranco: No, thank you.

Talib Kweli: More, please.

This Pandora.com thing has really blessed me at work. But today I "discovered" for myself a genre that I hadn't realized I loved so much. I put in Lauryn Hill. As a result, they made a radio station of acoustic guitar R&B. THAT, I decided, is where music is at. It's what the Blues has become.

One of the delights of living in the days of miracle and wonder, is that we have exposure to so much music and we will never get to the bottom of it. Good music (bad, too, but let's focus on the good, right?) is being put out every day. Yep. Another reason to smile.

Johnny Cash on Sesame Street

Vocabulary List

shit
Thai people use the word "shit" alot. It sounds like "sheet" when they say it. I am starting to believe they don't know that it's a curseword. It has made me start to wonder, myself, if it is a curseword.

curseword
I just invented (perhaps) this word, "curseword." I think before this post, it was two words?

invention
The definition of "invention" should be explored. If someone has a thought that came to them on their own, is it still original? Or does the rank of "original" thought go only to those thoughts the first time they were thought of, by the first person who thought of them?

farang
Thai for foreigner. Perhaps it is only Thai for "westerner." It was invented when the french came to Thailand, then Siam, during the Ayutthaya period. Thai people couldn't say "French." They said "Farang" instead. Farang is not just Thai for "westerner," it is Thai for everything westerners do and everything westerners are about. Blue eyes are farang eyes. Low tolerance for prik (chili peppers) is farang. I have to investigate this, but farang might never be Asian. In the world there are Indians, Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Malaysians, Thais, and Farang.

emergence
That's the name for a religious movement. The ideas behind this movement (perhaps outlined in The Velvet Elvis?) came to me one year and a half before I read that book. Reading it made me think "Oh good, I'm not the only one who thinks about this stuff this way." I read some stuff the other day on this webpage that is called something like "apprised truth" or something? Something apprised. Anyway, the guy is vehement against the ideas outlined in this emergence thing. But reading through that webpage made me appreciate the ideas outlined in the book even more. If I had to choose between seeing beauty in the world in all things or living at the dead end in a tunnel of exclusiveness, it doesn't seem like I've been given much of a choice.

pridesource
It's the webage for the gay pride magazine from Detroit (or probably really from Ferndale) and I have been reading it quite regularly since I've arrived in Bangkok for Donald Calamia's theater reviews. From it, I learned about a tremendously interesting show going down at the UDM theater... Starring Arthur Beer and James Bowen. I wish I was in the D to go see it: The Sweet Trials Apparently, it's about a trial that happened in 1920's Detroit that dealt with a black man and his family who moved into a white neighborhood.

ex-patriotism
It's a heart condition.

John 4:1-47 "Jesus and the Bad Samaritan"

1-3) Jesus has celebrity status--people are talking about Him. He’s ticking Pharisees off because a carpenter is drawing more attention then their theological degrees and qualifications. Jesus is constantly on the run. Jesus is probably pretty tired.

4) “He had to go through Samaria.”
There’s enough in those six words to keep me fed for a long time. Because, actually, Jesus did not have to, geographically, go through Samaria. (According to a British theological scholar named Arthur Pink who died in 1952 haha) Jesus could have crossed the river and went through another land (Perea). So He took a route that was longer and out of his way. But still, John writes, “Jesus had to go through Samaria.” This shows us something about God’s ways… he doesn’t take the easy route always. I’d say he seldom takes the easy route. Jesus does a lot of things that seem unnecessary but in His eyes they are required. There is no other way.
We also know from those words that Jesus doesn’t act in response to what the Pharisees have outlined for him. Sometimes it seems like Jesus is a fugitive, but Jesus never bowed down to them—held them in reverence in the way that he would let them determine, through fear, what to do next. Jesus had one god, Jehovah…
To sum up: Jesus, hot and tired, goes out of his way… he must be up to something.

6) “It was the sixth hour.” Noon. Jesus walked an extra stretch in this hot land and the sun is high. Our Jesus could be exhausted, too. We think we have busy schedules. Imagine what was on Jesus’ plate.

7) Taboo. Jews weren’t really supposed to speak with Samaritans-- especially not Samaritan women.

(8-9) Also, his disciples had left him so he was alone with the Samaritan woman. What a trouble maker. The woman is quick to point that out to him. “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan and I’m a woman…” Our Lord doesn’t let that stop him. He knows this woman needs His life… Jesus never lets cultural differences stop him from doing what he’s got to do.

10) “If you knew…” Jesus has got something so incredibly wonderful for this woman. Something that cultural boundaries, the walls this world his put up around this woman (and as we will see, she put up for herself) cannot stop from reaching her.

11) Jesus mentioned living water and this woman still has her mind on the boundaries of this world. “You don’t have anything to get water with.” She’s thinking about one part hydrogen, two parts oxygen.

14-15) Jesus is obviously (to us) speaking in spiritual terms but he woman is still interpreting this as H2O water—she’s thinking he is talking literally (and why should she not?)… She’s seeing this water as something convenient. But there is more to it than just that. Maybe she thinks Jesus is going to whip out a magic potion from the fountain of youth.

16-18) Jesus then broadens the discussion to another level. “Go call your husband.” She says “I have no husband.” This might actually be true. She might not, technically at this point have a husband. But Jesus isn’t looking at her with the “technical eyes of this world.” He sees her for what she truly is (if he were looking through the world’s lens, he probably wouldn’t be talking to her, as we already established.)

So, she says she’s got no husband and then Jesus tells her something about herself that she may or may not know: “You’ve had five husbands.” Whoops. So then this interaction is really going into the dangerous waters… Not only is she 1) a Samaritan (taboo) 2) a woman (bigger taboo) but now we know she’s a slut (run, Jesus, run!!). So Jesus went out of his way for a woman that was, culturally (to a Jew) at the bottom. This is our Jesus. “While we were still sinners, He died for us.” That statement permeates all that he does.

19-22) Okay, so now the woman is starting to understand that there’s more to this conversation than H2O… She first recognizes Jesus as a Prophet. He is clearly from God. But she’s still blind in the area of what Jesus is truly offering here. She brings up “Well… you worship over there and we worship over here…” Jesus says he’s from God and the first thing she thinks of is “church.” This happens to us, right, when we share the gospel? At least in America. Someone finds out I’m a Christian and they say, “Oh, are you catholic or protestant?”
Jesus is not offering the woman a nice church. He’s offering her something that goes way beyond “church.”

23) He tells her, “The time is coming and has now come when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kinds of worshippers the Father seeks. God is the spirit, and his worshippers must worship in spirit and in truth.”
This is a message for a Samaritan prostitute. To God, there is no Jew or Gentile anymore… that is huge. It’s as huge today as it was then. God doesn’t care what our background. I look around our “congregation”—a Kenyan fellowshipping with little white American women, a couple Indians, a Philippino, and a bunch of Thais. We can do that because we worship in God’s spirit. If we get away from God’s spirit, if we start to look at our “church” circumstances, we are lost. We are as lost as this Samaritan prostitute, who says, “well… you all worship over there and we worship over here…”

24-26) Praise God, because this woman starts to get it: “I heard there’s supposed to be a Messiah coming… He’s going to explain all of that to us.” Jesus says, “You’re looking at him.”
The world is waiting for a Messiah and this woman, this bad Samaritan woman is looking straight at him. The impact of that moment was incredible… especially when we see what follows

27) The disciples come back and boy are they confused… “Why are you talking to her!?” Are you trying to get us creamed? They are exhausted and tired too… and Jesus just made them go out of their way so he could talk to a bad Samaritan? When the Lord is leading our lives, we can expect moments like these. “What, you called me all the way to Thailand so I could have one three minute conversation with a Burmese girl at a bus stop and now you’re sending me home?!” Jesus works like this. Be prepared.

28-29) Jesus works this way because he sees the bigger picture. We see one Burmese girl but he sees nations of people through the seeds we plant. He tries to get his disciples to think that way. We see it in this account—the woman leaves her water jar behind and goes and tells people about Jesus. “Could this be the Christ? Check him out!” And now the Samaritans are all running to Jesus wanting to see who he is. Praise to God, because he does things that seem like a waste of time but he never wastes our time. God doesn’t work according to what the world thinks is practical or timely. We do, and that’s usually good… but God doesn’t. If God is going to be the one who leads us, we know that he will through us for some loops of confusion, but he’s He knows what He’s doing… We can trust him, like May trusts Him. “I can’t WAIT to see what God will do!” I pray I will never forget those words from her.

39) “Many Samaritans believed because of this woman’s testimony.” John acknowledges that in his gospel, that Jesus had the best plan. And that he chose a bad Samaritan woman to reach multitudes of people. And Jesus loves these people… They ask him to stick around and he does. He takes his time with them.

42)The real miracle of this story: The people hear about Jesus and then go see for themselves that His is, truly, “The savior of the world.”

nice combination...

In the light of night
In the dead of day
What are you trying to say?

Through the backdoor
Scratch of a flapping screen
What do you want me to see?

You’ve been here before
You’ll come here again
The beginning, middle, and end.

What are you trying to say?
What do you want me to see?
The beginning, the middle, the end
In everything

sometimes, on days such as today, i just need to do this

things that make me smile

free guitar lessons * p'george's MSN pictures * barack obama's teeth * twangy singing * hearing harry m talking referencing theology and greek and then remembering how much education he's had* the thai alphabet on my keyboard (example: ภรนวสุหรึถัดหคเก๗มฒ้นด) * the thai interpretation of "pizza" * ads that say "special bra for fun and dream" * bra vendors on the street * not always having to wear bras * talking about my bra in public * the mexican figurines next to my computer * my walk through a tropical garden to get to work * asian bangles on cell phones * running my thumbtip over my calluses on my fingertips * the fact that i told a pentacostal girl i thought i might have the gift of interpreting tongues * this youtube clip of the karate kid and steve vai in a guitar battle--no idea what the hell that was * flip flops year 'round * the fact that "porn" means "the best" in thai * jamaican accents * the fact that i wrote "thumbtip" * rolling r's * private businesses * utter nonsense

(1) Lord (2) Buddha (3) King

Summer heated Buddha tucked into a mountainside
Naga’s seven heads bare her fangs
You stand and watch, carefree as a war bride
The best part of this movie has been censored out
In the morning there are better things to think about

Prah jaw, Prah Jaw
The Lord, The Buddha, The King
Prah Jaw Prah Jaw
Most High.
Above everything.

You’ve traded yer tradition for ambition
Sayin’ Prah jaw is bigger than a Christmas tree
Ramkahmhaeng's a rousing superstition
Just a build a fort of blindness, keep the demons out
In the morning there are better things to think about.

Prah Jaw, Prah Jaw
The Lord, The Buddha, The King
Prah Jaw Prah Jaw
Most High.
Above everything.

Float outside the city and remember how to breathe
Drink a thousand rivers worth of words
Just when you’ve figured out what to believe
You fall asleep, end up on another route
Prah Jaw throughout

Prah Jaw, Prah Jaw
The Lord, The Buddha, The King
Prah Jaw Prah Jaw
Most High.
Above everything.

Another Buddha tucked inside a temple, cold and still
The people pray into his lifeless eyes
Prah jaw listens anyway, until
Prah Jaw throughout.
Throughout.

In 2006

I'm copying this idea from Lisa's blog.

Okay, here's what I did in 2006. (Not really in any particular order)

1) Performed at the Performance Network and Boorshead in "Moonglow" (and actually playing a dance role. I'm still wondering how that happened)

2) Formed the Elmore's with Alec (and left the band hanging. One day... in Chicago, where dreams come true)

3) Spent my very first "afternoon in a recording studio" as a musician.

4) House sat in an amazing house... across the street from an old acting prof.

5) Directed a childrens show

6) Served half a term on the Park Player's board

7) Babysat for the Vitales and Garretts

8) Worked at Greenfield Village

9) Lived with Erinn on Bentler

10) Manny Four? Five? Who the hell knows.

11) Moved to Thailand

12) Taught six weeks of English classes and basically chilled ever since

13) Spent my first full year in a relationship (with Joel)

14) Did another round of Anne Frank

15) Wrote one essay, one short story, and some songs.

16) Discovered Cliff's Bells and the Gypsy Strings

17) Saw Tom Waits in concert

18) Learned a fair amount of Thai

19) Found the loveliest church in Bangkok

20) Survived two muggings (one in the D, one in the B)

21) Housesat for a large amount of cats that i did not anticipate.

22) Endured that van

23) Spent more time IMing Lisa (and Xander) on my mornings then doing just about anything else since I've been here.

24) Expanded my tolerance for: spices, roaches, weird smells, pollution, and grime.

25) Met the Japanese Ambassador to Thailand

26) Sold my soul to facebook

27) Read The Science Trilogy (again), The Velvet Elvis, Harry Potter 1-6, 2/3 Godless Compass books, Night, and lots of poems. I think I read more. I can't remember.

28) Got to know my waterbee from afar.

29) Did six days of a lemonade fast. I swear it cleared my sinuses.

30) Learned all about Sanuk (that's a thai virtue of adding fun into every activity, or basically laughing every chance you get)

31) Volunteered a little with Night Light

32) Took the GRE after spending hours learning vocab words that weren't on the test

33) Saw a coup d'tat

34) Saw Thailand's biggest floods in decades

35) Saw the biggest Christmas Tree in SouthEast Asia

37) Went to sleep before midnight for the first time on New Year's Eve

38) Went to a US Embassy for the first time (not that exciting, though it was the day the dems took the house and senate, so that made it slightly more interesting)

39) Spent my first Christmas away from home (perhaps my last, perhaps.)

40) Saw the biggest Buddha in Thailand

41) Went to two weddings in Thailand, one traditional, one "western"

42) Recorded/directed a radio version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

43) Thai Karaoked. It's a lot different than American Karaoke.

44) Learned a lot.

My friend P'George sent this message to my phone today:

May the Bangkok bombs turn into explosive wealth and fame for you in 2007

Confused?http://edition.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/asiapcf/01/01/thailand.blasts.reut/index.html

oh man do i miss this show.

(Yep, this is what I did at work today.)

more onions

how much truth is in this article?

Art II

something to do while p'nui is on the phone

i may be paranoid, but it seems as if the majority of the words I have to learn for the GRE are about negative things: pusillanimous, harangue, fulsome, and vitriolic.

My guess is that the ratio of negative to positive definitions is 3:1

God bless the mouths that are fed off of all the money I'm dishing into this test...

Today's ee

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

A thing like facebook can be detrimental to one who has too many acquiantances. For instance, the other day I got a request from someone named Joshua. I did not recognize this guy but I figured that I must know him from

a) middleschool?
b) high school?
c) Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat when I was like, ten?
d)Was one of the munchkins in the Wizard of Oz but he's all grown up now?
e) My section for Anthro 101?
g) What about my Modern Dance Class in 2004?
f) In a tap class with me when I was eleven?
h) In Redford Youth Theater?
i) Someone I met at the Brothers on a particularly "Zooropa" -ish day ?
g) Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp in '94?
h) Mosiac Youth Theater?
i) On a soccer team with me when I was eight?
j) In the shoe dept at JC Penneys?
k) An audition?
l) From Marjorie's church youth group?
m) 5th Grade?
n) From the United Generation Council anti-drug summer job I had my soph. year of HS?
o) Dance class at James' house?
p) Michigan Opera Theater?
q) RYT when it was Tinderbox?
r) Gymnastics when I was pre-11 years?
s) One of the students I met in South Africa?
t) Someone I was particularly friendly with at a rest stop in Tennessee?
u) Applebees?
v) From InterVarsity?
w) Worked in the Animal Testing Lab with me?
x) How about the Bug Range?
y) A frequent visitor of the Jamaican Jerk Pit?
z) Preschool?

I accepted his request, as he could have been from any of those places. Then I saw that we had no mutual friends. Hm.

Days passed.

Today I got a "friend detail request." Thank Jesus! The mystery can be solved. Yep, it was Joshua.

He put that I was his "Facebook Friend."

What the hell is a facebook friend?

I don't know, Josh. You tell me.

...I just don't understand modern art.

i also miss my waterbee

i miss
dive bars that don't have prostitutes in them
redskinned mashed potatoes
cigarettes
sweaters
ebonics
having a kitchen
hymns
upstairs at the ant
jukeboxes that have songs in english. good songs, i mean.
meals that don't involve rice or noodles

i don't miss
plexiglas
cleaning the sink and around the sink
driving
boxed macaroni and cheese
the post-audition waiting period
socks

Janis Joplin covered St. James Infirmary. I guess that was to be expected. Oh well, it probably won't be the last song she covered that I will cover later.

Ha.

Back to this Blog

After some consideration, I decided that I miss my outlet for thoughts that I'd like to broadcast that aren't really intended for the general audience. I like my Bangkok blog, but sometimes I just want to be random and I am tired of hitting the "Publish" button wondering how that thought will go over... So I'm going to add to this one occasionally, for those find that they still check it. I guess it's going to be esoteric now and I won't be expecting comments.

Here's what I've been thinking about. I'm tired of feeling that there is restrictions on what I can say about my faith in my writing. Who am I writing for, I wonder? Are there enough people like me out there who will care about what I have to say about Jesus? About injustice? These thoughts are kind of discouraging to me. Maybe I shouldn't have so much of an agenda. In my latest story I wrote about working at a dying department store at christmastime. I tried to just write about my coworker, but I knew all sorts of things would come out. She was obsessed with racism, so that's in there. I can't write about her and not have her obsessed with it. Also, the people around her were obsessed with Jesus. Anyway, I don't want to have all these hidden agendas but I guess I agree with Natalie Goldberg, that all art is political. It's just unavoidable.

Maybe the same people who don't mind Bono might want to read my stuff one day... Because I think we have the same agendas.

Okay, with that aside, I have been listening to satellite radio online and been writing down some musicians that have really caught my ear:
--The HOLMES BROTHERS have a new album, Simple Truths. Actually, it's not new, I just don't have it yet.
--I think I would like to own THE BEST OF GEORGE HARRISON
--There is a guy with a great blues voice, named JC BURRIS. His album was called Blues Professor. I remember liking the guitar on there.
--I heard a guy named DAVID FORD today who was singing along with Kim Taylor. He was edgy and truth-seeking. I liked his voice a lot. He's from England and he swears a lot.
--Another blues guy, WARNER WILLIAMS was good too. His album was called Blues Highway.

I wrote those down so I can hunt them when I get back in town... I had an amazon fiasco lately so I know better than to order it from Bangkok...

I really miss music. Live music. My favorite is the blues, as you can see. I wish I could just listen to music and not feel like I have to reach for my guitar. I guess I miss playing for people. The Thais have a cool picking style. Maybe I can pick that up. Ha.

I think the next song I'd like to learn on the guitar is St. James Infirmary because it's about time a woman sang it and it always blows my mind. Joel brought it to my attention via the Gypsy Strings. Maybe I'd like to learn a bunch of standards to throw into my mix. Viva la Tradition.

So Long, Been Good to Know Ya

That's a Woody Guthrie song, for those that didn't know...

I'm off today. My plane leaves at 4:55pm. I will arrive in Bangkok tomorrow night around 11:30. (What will be 12:30pm, their time...)

My stomache is a bit upset this morning. I guess that's to be expected. But I had a nice send-off. I got to pray with Harry, Chuck, and my dad and then Harry gave me a Message Bible that he really likes. I'm liking it too. Last night I brought Joel to the Menczers for dinner and then we stayed for their study, so I got to see some people, like my grandma, for the last time in a while...

Saying good-bye is awkward; sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I just split outta sight without hugging anyone. Maybe if no one knew I was leaving it would be easier... I guess that wouldn't be right. It's good to know that people will be thinking about me and praying for me.

Last night, as I usually feel after Dave's teaching, my head was filled with good thoughts and Joel and I felt at peace about the situation. I was pretty happy about that. Nancy Kammer (director friend)pointed out that that the fact that we can trust each other while we're gone is a really big and important thing. So that was encouraging...

I'm sorry if these thoughts aren't reading well. I'm having trouble typing, i feel so nauseous. I hope it goes away soon...

While I'm gone, read about my adventures at NoraInBangkok.blogspot.com

Much love to my homies.

My mother bought me a massive blue suitcase. She thinks it's too big; I can't imagine packing for a year away in anything else. I haven't even begun packing. I'm thinking I'll put it off until after the campout. The plane ticket's in but I haven't applied for a visa because I'm still waiting for the letter if invitation from the university where I'll be working. I'm halfway between excitement and panic. The dreams have started, too. Last night I had a dream that I didn't have enough of a goodbye to Joel and I was racing up and down the terminal trying to find him but it was too late and i cried for the whole plane-ride, and when I got to Thailand they put me straight to work and I found that I was incompetant and lost as to how to get anything done.

Every time I get a moment by myself (I've had many today), the question pops into my head: What do you want out of life? It's not like I'm asking myself, "What do I want out of life," but more like someone else is asking, "What do YOU want?" It's a dramatic question, yes, and haunting. It's haunted me for months now, seeming to go hand in hand with the idea of leaving.

Some have asked, "Why are you going there?" I've had several answers. I've said that I want the experience of being stripped of direct communication--a language barrier. Whether I really want that or not, I'll have it; I know one or two phrases in Thai and I'm not sure if I'm using the right tones. I've said that I want to escape this social life (or theater life) that's kept me from writing stories and essays. I've said that I just feel like it's right. I feel somewhat guilty because I think I should probably have some inspirational martyresque answer having to do with God.

I have these answers but none of them satisfies that other burning question. I'm sure if I was able to answer it, which I am not, I would know that this thing, whatever it is, could no easier be found in Thailand than in Detroit. I know it's time for a change. I know I'm an experience-addict. I know going there will be "awesome" because that's what everyone tells me it will be (or at least I hope everyone's right...) I know the Lord will be with me.

One friend asked me why I was going and I said, "I have no idea." She said, "Well even if you did have an idea, you'd probably find the real reason once you're there, don'tcha think?" And maybe that goes for the deeper question "What do I want out of life?" I continue on, wherever my feet happen to take me, trying to serve God the best I can because I know that guy and I trust him, but I won't know what I've really wanted all this time until I see His face.

Bored?

www.nightlights.com

what's your favorite?

Bangkok here I come

So, i haven't mentioned on here yet because I haven't been so certain about it (and if you read this blog, you'll see that my plans change quicker than most...), but I have taken a job teaching/consulting for English in Bangkok. I leave on August 24th. I'll be working in the office at a university research center called the ABAC Poll (of Assumption University). Those of you who know my friend/college roomate Jenni Goad-Piotrowski, it's the same university she worked at back in 2003/04. I will be living in what is called "The ABAC Hotel". I think it's kind of like a dorm with a half kitchen in the rooms, but we'll see.

While I'm there, I might have a bangkok blog. I'll let you know.

There might be a party for me on the 19th. I'm not sure where or when yet. Details about that are coming...

Hope you readers are well,
NJ

How to Eat Like a Director (Boh. Imp. Vol. IX)

"Set your mind before the mirror of eternity
and everything will work." ~Franz Wright


I've done it. I've directed a children's show at Park Players. It's called How to Eat Like A Child and it opens tonight. It's made up of lessons for scenes: "How to Wait," "How to Behave at School," "How to Beg for a Dog," etc. It features songs that ask: "Why is no the only thing a parent can express?" and claim: "There ought to be as many ways of saying, 'Yes.'" But best of all, it features 29 hilarious kids that were surprisingly easy-going. I had a great time and the parents are pleased with what they saw at the final dress rehearsal last night. I'm a little sad to let it go, but not really all that sad. I think acting attaches me more to a show than directing... And I've found that directing isn't as stressful as I had anticipated. Maybe because I've had the attitude: "I gave that kid the direction three or four times now. If he doesn't want to listen, it's him that looks bad, not me."

I've also started my job singing around Greenfield Village. Thoughts and reactions to this job are being recorded in what I hope will be a lit nonfiction essay that's currently called "The Henry Ford." I will say this, my faltering patriotism is recieved there with open arms...

I'm also booked to direct a short play for the Pandora's Box Fest this year. Anyone have a name of a good female playwright whose written a short? I'm going to check if there's any short Beth Henleys. We'll see.

I have read all the Harry Potters that are out. I must say that the last one let me down in many ways (not in the obvious ways that the readers of this book might think,) but full opinions of the series will be given after I've read the 7th.

Adios for now.

Poem 06/28/06

the world's in flame
or so it seems
i hear cannons and popcorn
two neighborhoods away
i see red and blew
dust and smoke crawls
over pines and maples
and oaks in bloom
surrounding my subdivision

this is not war, this is
celebration, the grand finale now
mimics the more exuberant display
over windsor, hart plaza, for fearless
crowds who've dared to cross
the city line.
canada and states unite
to salute the flags that stream behind
jets above the river tonight
explosives equal freedom

we are free
mysterious creation
the sliver of pink haze moon
still glows. you can find it
somehow still more spectacular

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment Vol. 8

With Sir John Garrett at the moment. He's waiting for me to fill the "bubble pool" with a hose. It's not even 9am yet, so I am biding time with the old blog.

I feel like every time I update, I have something completely different going on as the last time. Right now I'm trying to get a job teaching overseas and the best candidate is Bangkok, Thailand. But that's the future (November). I'll go into what's going on now.

I completed my second rehearsal with Greenfield Village, and delighfully, my voice doesn't feel that bad (as I had expected.) I am singing too low for my range as an alto. I'm trying not to talk too much today and I had lots of water yesterday, but i feel, like I said, pretty good. Last week at this time I could barely talk. But the voice isn't like a muscle--at least getting lower... It is like a muscle when you sing high (I'm told that you can exercise to make your voice higher) but going too low could do some damage. Thats what my voice teacher said, and the man teaching me the music.

I just cast my first play as a director... I'm directing a childrens show at Park Players called "How to Eat Like A Child." The auditions went great--I've got Mike Fiedler on board as the music director and it's hard to go wrong there. We cast 30 kids. Holy Moses. But some of them were so cute at the auditions that I turned bright red sitting "behind the table." Is there a book somewhere about blushing? It's a weird phenomenon. It can't be helped and it can be triggered by so many things. One kid got up and sang "My Girl" and changed the words a little... I wish I could remember what he said, but he did a little sway as he sang. And another girl did Missy Elliots rap in Ciera's song about moving your body. I nearly fell out of my chair. At the first audition, a girl sang supersonic, which I had no idea that 7 year olds knew about. What can I say, but this show is going to be a trip up the old staircase.

Manny and the Mirror practice starts on Saturday. We're doing one performance for the Michigan Theater Festival.

Anyone have anything ELSE for me to do?

The Elmores

Alec and I have set up a music page on myspace.

myspace.com/theelmores

Please come give us a listen.

We're starting to hit the illustrious metro-detroit open-mic scene. Tonight we're going to the New Way Bar in Ferndale to play at the open mic hosted by the Gypsy Strings...

Cento:

A poem pieced from other poems.

Neruda, Cummings and F. Wright:

Que ves con ojos ciegos?
Soy el tigre
(and God have mercy on my monster)

No one is a stranger, this whole world is your home.
Entre los heros pasero
By that bum who's everyone
Quienes son los que sufren?
No se, pero son mios
I'm leaving here, I still don't know.

Let's all be thankful as hell
In time of lilacs who proclaim
Let beauty touch a blunder
Dive for dreams
Deja el viento corra
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt
(And consequently care to kiss the sky)

I shake hands with the sky
Riete de la noche.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment VII.

Seven counting the catastrophe. No time to dilly dally... here's what's new:

--went on a fast for 6 days (instead of 10...) no longer a smoker, sugar or caffeine addict. feels good. pretty good. miss the smokes.

--just got back from house sitting for four cats in AA.

--Alec and i had our first "Elmores" recording session at Uncle Fred Freers... (Timmy's dad). It went OKAY.

--Reading Harry Potter--on #4. help-me-i'm-obsessed.

--got a poem published in a very small publication. black book press. Look them up on myspace. Submit to them! they publish just about everyone new.

--watching the pistons. hurray. pretending not to be hurt by the dead-wings.

--had a brunch with joel's family sunday. it went very well, they are cool people.

--did an i was just kidding show today. went well.

--also recorded sleepy hollow for hannan house.

listen to our Christmas Carol. My grandma is on it.

--driving legal for the first time since... september? since stanley died.

Sorry to be so brief.

Memory Lane

I did something I thought I'd never do... I added to my old geocities cite today. How about that? Want the link?

www.geocities.com/njlimabean

For those of you who don't know what that is, it's Jesus is in Ann Arbor Too. It's a collection of spiritual essays, called "thoughts" I wrote while in school. I noticed that it still gets a few hits a week (on some tracker they have) so I thought maybe I should update it.

If you aren't into my Jesus-side, I don't suggest you look at that. But if you are, there's some nice stuff on there, I think.

The latest is number 24, under the thoughts link, called "Relationships."

Enjoy
(or not)

Adventures in Bohemian Catastrophe

There's a line in the play that goes "You look feverish. You might have pinkeye."

Ladies and gentleman of the observation seats, I might have pinkeye.

I am at Marjorie's apt. She's doing laundry for her trip to Florida next week (she gets Spring Breaks). It's good to see her. I just wish I were more pleasent this weekend because, as frustrating as it is, I seem to be a magnet for chaos. Two weeks ago it was the phone and the dead van battery. This week, it's my left eye.

It turned pink on Thursday. I thought it might be infected but had no time until today (Saturday) to hit the doctors.
(My schedule:
THURS--8am-1130 John Garrett, Noon John to Vitales, 330pm take John home from South Lyon, 4pm buy Erinn a Bday gift, 4:30pm Head out to Brighton to meet carpool to Lansing, 8pm show.
FRI--8am-4pm Vitales, 5pm Meet Marjorie, take shower, 6pm go out for dinner, 8pm show
TODAY--Doctors.

Last night I went out with Marjorie and her boyfriend, Peter, after the show. My eye was killing me. In the bathroom at her apt, late at night, I folded the bottom left eyelid down and found a black speck in my eye. That made me think it wasn't pinkeye. An eyelash! No. Pretty soon I had Marjorie and Peter hovering over my eye with a q-tip. They couldn't get it. I went to bed.

Today I went to Sparrow Hospital in Lansing. I went to the Fast-Track Emergency section were I watched a screaming baby wait for his name to be called while blood gushed from a gash in his head. Ew. After he went "behind that door" that leads to emergency care, I finished the Alchemist. A nice book. Weird, but nice. It made my wonder why I couldn't just will the speck out of my eye (perhaps because I had a plank in the other eye?) Finally, they called my name to the desk. I had a long epic about my insurance coverage . My dad said I was covered but it took the guy a few minutes to find me on the Blue Cross database. He found me. Hurray. I was called and then, I too, got to go behind the door.

A bubbly nurse helped me. I described to her the speck I had in my eye. She asked the last time I got my Tetnis shot (sp?). I had no idea but after I talked to my mom, we figured it was probably HS. That was too long ago, so I got one today. I asked the lady if it was going to affect my performance that night. "Oh no, not at all," she said. "May make your arm sore." She poked me in my left arm, hoping it'd use it less in the swing dance. It was the best shot experience I ever had. Didn't feel a thing!

If you are sensitive to Eye issues, skip the next section.

Then the doctor (assistant) came in. He numbed my eye and then I told him where the speck was. He made me sit in one of those eye magnifiers where the optomotrists (sp?) shine a blinding light into one's eye. He found the speck! But wait, it was embedded in my flesh! He said skin grew over it. He told me he would try to remove it with a very tiny needle, but preferred that I saw an eye doctor. I told him if he could remove it, please do because Lord knows I have no time to see an eye doctor and it hurt! So he numbed it some more and scraped at the spot for a while and then said "You know, I'm not sure that that's a foreign body..." He said he would give me an antibiotic and then if it's still hurting in a few days, see an eye doctor.

I wanted to die.

So, I took the prescription to Meijer. I was dizzy--lack of food. Finally I found, in that world of a store, the pharmacy. While I waited for the prescription to be filled, I filled my arms with toiletries that I needed. I love buying soap and q-tips and make-up (sigh, I love buying make-up...) so that put me in a better mood. But that mood was quickly demolished when the pharmacist didn't fill my prescription because she couldn't find my name on the Blue Cross Account. She kept asking me if I was sure I had the right card. I called my dad and he gave me the right numbers. It still didn't show up. She called Blue Cross. They said I wasn't covered. Without the insurance, the EYE DROPS would cost $99.00. I tearfully took the prescription back, put my makeup and soap back on the shelf and waltzed out of the store.

I called my dad and he had a solution for me to get it filled at the drug store where he works. I will pick the eye drops up tomorrow night.

Meanwhile, I found food at Marjories (leftovers from last night) and wanted to have a good cry. But I waited to cry until I got to the Boarshead, after I screwed up the swing dance because I was dizzy. The Sailor told me that it was getting harder and harder to dance with me. I went up into the bathroom and cried. When I came out, Kelly found me and I related to her about my day and she said the reason I was a wreck probably had to do with the shot I had. She said those things can make you loopy. That explained why I fell during the dance call. I felt loopy, all right, like I had no muscles. My arm felt great, but so much for the shot having no effect on me.

I did a long warm up, forced myself to breathe, and did the show. It's amazing what ailments performance pressure will cure for the endurance of the show... but the eye started actingup again after I got out of costume.

We had a fine audience. Tonight, Sailor Steve and I were graced with our own standing ovation, initiated by a tiny man with a glowing beard in the front row. I guess things usually turn out okay...

I am just starting to wonder why this stuff happens to me. Does it happen to everyone? I'm convinced that they do, from the bee stings and infections I've had at campouts, to car accidents and other car troubles, to almost losing my keys 100x a week, to constantly double-booking myself. Is it a spiritual thing? Or a tetnis shot? I guess I'll never really know.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment Vol V

Hello from Lansing. Lots has happened since the last post. We open Mooglow tonight, after a week of audience-attended dress-rehearsals and performances. We have had a standing ovation every night from these audiences. I was amused to find, today in a local metro-times-esque publication I read while dining at a Mexican restaurant, that Wednesday's "Dress Rehearsal" was a theater party put on by the housing commision here in Lansing, well advertised... It cost $30 to attend (20 of which was tax-deductable) and there was fancy food there. Hell if I knew... Oh well. That night was a full-house. A house full of laughers. Very encouraging.

So, we closed Anne Frank. It was an odd year to be in the show; it just seemed to be full of complaints and it never really set in. Maybe part of it for me was the fact that it was sandwiched in between Moonglow runs. But I'm happy to be back with the Moonglow cast, even if I have to travel a lot on the road to do the show. I've been staying at Marjorie's place on the weekends, but during the week I carpool (we have performances Weds-Sun) because I have day jobs.

Today I felt inspired, during my day-long break, to look up parks around here and go for a nice walk. I found the Fenner Nature Center, which was a lot like walking around Rotary Park in Livonia (though with less graffiti--how does one spell that word?), but nice all the same. It was similar to Rotary in the way that I would walk for a while until I hit civilization and then turn around and walk in another direction. It was pretty cold and cloudy, but nice to have time to just think and notice things. I noticed these weird spikey cocoons hanging from the bare branches of a tree near a farmhouse. They were hollow white things, with openings at the bottoms that seemed to be for two creatures to break through. I also found a totem pole that was replicated by a fourteen year old boy (replicated from Native Americans from the Pacific Northwest and then donated to Lansing). There are weird and wonderful things to notice, I was reminded today. If only I could remember to keep my eye out for them or to take advantage of opportunities to seek them out.

Last weekend my brother(s) were in town for the East Lansing Film Festival. I saw 21 carbs (again) and enjoyed it (again). I also saw a disturbing documentary called "Fat Boy" about dieting. I think it broke something in me, because I've noticed that I've wanted to be healthier since I saw it. I think I actually have been a bit healthier, if only a tad. The next evening, I saw some movie that I can't remember the name of--Marty worked on it. It was a suspense film that turned out to be a little on the goofy side. But after that film, I saw Charlie Don't Shake at a party for the festival participants, and they were fantastic. I'm looking forward to seeing them play again.

The notable occurance of the week was, after my cell-phone past-away (still wondering why this happened), I woke up on Saturday morning, got in my van to go to rehearsal, and noticed that the battery was dead because I left the dome-light on for nine hours. Bravo for me. So I was stuck in Marjorie's subdivision with no phone and no friends (marj was in Grand Rapids). I ended up using the phone in the welcome center here, and getting a hold of Sailor Steve, who picked me up and later gave the car a jump. I bought him dinner in gratitude. I'm happy that I didn't flip out too much at being stranded.

My overall sentiment has been heavy, lately. It seems that there are a lot of people going through hard times. For one of them, I wrote this poem:

Will you go crazy? You can
Paint your pain; streaks
Across the wall of your composure.

Will you go crazy? You can
Scream your frustration, a sword
Slicing the flesh of your disappointment.

Will you go crazy? You can
Cry, alone or exposed, waves
Along the beach of your betrayal.

Will you go crazy? You can
Sing, washed in wonder, buckled
In your rolling haven.

Will you go crazy? You can
Go crazy. You can go crazy.
You can.

On a final note, I was pretty disturbed this week about the protest at MacKenzie HS in Detroit on Wednesday. Between 120-200 students walked out of class and marched down the street chanting (according to the Det. News) "No Books, No School." They walked out because there weren't enough text books, the bathrooms were disgusting, and they didn't want to wear uniforms. Obviously, it's the first two reasons that have got me disturbed... I guess the protest got out of hand (the kids marched in the street, the Freepress says a bottle was thrown, and there was swearing). 32 kids were arrested because of this--those under 17 had $500 fines sent to their parents. Those over 17 were taken to jail. I am upset because any child in a DPS could walk out at any time for a number of good reasons. Who will stand up for the Detroit Students, who want a fair education like any one else would? I wish I could do something...

Well, that's all for now. Thanks for staying with me, if you read the entire post.

ANNE FRANK STUFF

Does it ever occur to anyone that I have to say this and not laugh? :

"Who wouldn't want someone to visit with every night and have deep serious conversations with and who knows what else..."

Oh well, green-green-green-i-thought-they'd-never-end.

Feel free to add your favorite line to say.

Boh. Imp. Vol. IV

I'm at the Carl Sandburg Library in Livonia (Clarenceville, Livonia, Michigan, USA). I'm here with the Garrett boys. They are over playing on another computer. I'm here because Tommy called out sick from school (when you're in school, you call out rather than in) and I picked him up and took them both here while we wait for Elizabeth to get out of the middle school down the street.

We opened Anne Frank this morning. Seth is alive. I asked him where he'd been and he said "Underground." That brought a very wide smile to my face. The kids were very well behaved today in the audience. We're to have small audiences, I hear. They still made plenty of noise after the big kiss, and Peter got the biggest applause.

I got a free issue of a lit mag called "Sun" last week and I can't get over how wonderful it is. Part of the thing that drew me to it was a reader letter from Lilly Tomlin (sp?) in the beginning. There was a short story called "Leda and the Swan, essay #38" That was incredible, I thought. It's told in the form of a GIRL's rambling, poorly written high school essay on Leda and the Swan, a Yeats poem. I think the author's name is Eric Puchner or something like that. It's full of hilarious anecdotes, like she calls Othello Shakespeare's only African American. Anyway, I subscribed to this magazine because I'm kind of an idiot, but I think it will be well worth it. It has poems, essays, and stories, and photos.

Anyone trying to get rid of a bed? Mine is killing my back.

And that's all for now.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment, Vol III

Hello. I'm at the Garretts with John, who is wandering around the room singing "I don't wanna I don't care" over and over.
He has been begging me to push a button.
So, I'll let him:
jkkkkkkkkkkkl

Today I am taking him to the Vitales, a place he calls "The Big House." At 7:45am he asked me if it was 10:30 so we could go. I told him he'd have to wait a while. His response? "I hate your car."

Those who know me or know the abominable (sp?) snow van I have been fated with, know how I felt about that comment. But for those of you who have no clue how I feel about the vehicle, well, yesterday on the way home from the JET it stalled out seven times in the rain and acquired a nickname that once belonged to my laptop. If you still don't know what I'm talking about, well, the other day I told my wife that my plan for the van was to drive it until I can pack up all my things and move to Chicago, unpack my things there, and then push the van off into Lake Michigan. That way I won't need the van that I currently need too much.

I miss Stanley. Now that is Bohemian Impoverishment, but I really miss Stanley Kowalski, may he rest in peace.

Lately in the life of me...

Hello kids. I have a lot going on. Two more performances of Moonglow in Ann Arbor. My Uncle Paul and Aunt Faith are coming tonight, as well as my wife.

Last night I had a dream that I moved to Chicago, in with Leah, Faith's sister. I have been thinking a lot about moving to Chicago , lately, but my main worry is who I'd live with... So it was funny that my dream offered me that idea... It was summertime in the dream; I was about to go see the Cubs play the Tigers at Wrigley Field. How disappointing to wake up to my busy schedule in Michigan in cold weather.

The director for Moonglow saw our show on Thursday and mentioned that after six weeks, it was still quite fresh. This pleased me to hear. I wonder how we do that, repeat and repeat and still give a fresh performance. I think the audiences have a lot to do with it... the chemistry is different every night. Also, though we would never make them intentionally, little mistakes help too. But I feel that because my character is so vague--she's in and out and dancing, a ball of energy, basically "youth" personified, I'm discovering bits about her all the time. I am not tired of the show at all. I'm looking forward to taking it to Lansing at the end of the month.

We started Anne Frank Rehearsals on Tuesday. It's very odd to think that a year has passed since we last put that one on. I am almost too stressed to enjoy it at this point, but hopefully things will slow down a bit soon. I met Joel in Anne Frank last year, so that adds an interesting layer to the process (especially because last year I decided that my character, Margot, can't stand Mr. Dussel most of the time... He kicked her out of her bed, etc... Sorry Joel!) Annie and Roth-Cloth (Dan) are in the show too, and I think the four of us are going to be trouble, soon... Scheduling rehearsals has been a real trial because during the mere two weeks we have, I have Moonglow to close and three day-jobs... I'm trying not to think about that too much. I'm glad my character only has about a dozen lines to review.

I will miss my time with Bethany (Bose)... I'm at a coffee shop with her right now, playing on her wireless internet.

Well, until next time...

bored

You Are 46% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side. Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

How Evil Are You?

INNER LIMITS

I WROTE THIS FOR LOS FRIARS (A BLOG I SHARE WITH JOEL, ROB, ROTH CLOTH, JOHN TODT, AND OTHERS. DID I SPELL TODT RIGHT?) I CHANGED IT TO BE MORE BROAD... BUT IT'S ALSO AT LOSFRIARS.BLOGSPOT.COM


inner limits

I was made over a decade after the flight. We stayed behind.
Our rockhouse (worn with new furniture) still stands yet
I am a stranger there. There is no room service. My room
Now belongs to guests. I am no guest. I guess
I cannot measure myself with habitat.

I arrived on time, to the day (I'm told) and on that day
My brother planted a tree out front. Taller than the neighborhood,
I found comfort in the height (my true place in the sky?)
Last week I found a pile of sawdust in its place. I guess
I cannot measure myself with nature.

I grew outside of my own skin. I searched for my face
In the child's den of imagination (sheets on chairs make Kenyan huts)
When no one had implanted my Anglo wall. I learned about
Inflexible features the hardest way I could. I guess
I cannot measure myself with exterior.

I let my spirit soar. It has not returned yet
So I wait for it in cigarette swirls. I like the way
They dance on sunlight. They say five minutes of me
Has gone up in smoke. I am supposed to care. I guess,
I cannot measure myself.

a new poem

LOVE IS THIS
I scald my lips and tongue
On steeping tea. The white
In the window frame blurs
Sky to ground. Everything
Hides behind gray between.

Forgive me, I went again
To the mailbox for encouragment.
Naturally, I found nothing.
What was I expecting? A line.
I desire a line across

This blank page. I'll loop
That line and dot it and wait.
I'll ignore the mailbox next time
(I'd like to promise). You say
Salt must be sprinkled

Here I am: a block inside
A crusted window. I watch
The snow descend and hope
To find, among the fractals,
A silver arrow pointed "next."

Sometimes there are no lines
And if we step our steps make circles.
In blank weather, drowsy tea,
Sinking couch, and silence: keep watch:
A streak of color from the clouds.

another step toward mental stability

Yesterday, George MacDonald described depression or low spirits in the little anthology I have... I'm going to have to paraphrase what he said because I don't have the book with me (I'm in the Angell Hall Fishbowl at UofM waitng for James McNaughton to finish his lecture on Great Books). Anyway, MacDONALD described that these feelings could be overcome, not by forcing ourselves to try to feel rightly spiritual, but by doing good works. By taking action.

I had a rough Tuesday day and then night after Dale's Bible Study--which may mean that the Bible study was good and the opposing forces were trying to keep me from retaining any of it--and I woke up Wednesday morning with a dark cloud hanging over me. I felt so crummy that I considered calling off my Hannan House class because I didn't think I'd be able to make it. Not physically, just mentally. But after I read the MacDonald, I felt like he was telling me to meet my responsibilities, despite my feelings, and they would somehow lift my mood. And I'm so glad I followed that advice because heaven knows what my day would have been like if i'd just stayed inside and stared at the wall.

Hannan house was hysterically funny. My grandma brought photographs of her paintings and took 30 mins of class time to explain them all to the her READERS THEATER classmates. I loved it, because of how much fun the others had while looking at her work, the way they praised her work, and the reminder that this woman is 87 and still productive, even if the process has gotten a little wacky. It wasn't a problem to start so late, since our Ichabod Crane arrived to our rehearsal/class just as my grandma was finishing up her presentation. (She called you Karl, by the way Ian.) One thing that struck me is when one of the classmates praised my Grandma's ability to capture shadows and light in water, my Grandma responded (a bit lucidly) with the fact that she's always been able to find beauty in simple things, without having to look too far.

After the class my mind started to clear--maybe it started to clear with my grandma's beauty comment. But that's what it's like--having a cloud over my mind so that I can't see straight and then some kind of positive idea pierces through that cloud and it dissipates into clarity. Anyway, I guess it all goes to say that I am NOT taking my time with my grandma or my hannan house people for granted.

gratitude

I'm grateful for Eric Bibb lately because he sings "Learn from everyone, that's what life is for." He's coming to the Ark next Thursday but I have a show.

To add to the adventures in bohemian impoverishment, i have been hanging out with john garrett some more for the van's sake. Our last adventure went something like this.

(Garrett House, 8:35 am. Breakfast nook)
JOHN: I want lunch.
NORA: It's not even 9 am. How bout a snack...?
JOHN: Lunch!
NORA: I'll make you a snack. What do you want?
JOHN: A just-jelly sandwich.
(She makes him one.)
JOHN: (screaming) I want only half!
NORA: Chill. You can eat it later, around Lunch Time.
(John finishes his half and then stands on his chair, reaches around to the cookie jar and sticks his hand in.)
NORA: What are you doing?
JOHN: I get a treat after lunch!
NORA: You didn't have lunch. You had a snack.
(Nora checks the cookie jar to see if they are oatmeal or peanut butter or other cookies acceptable before 9am, as it is now 8:55. She finds ho-hos, or whatever those individually wrapped chocolate covered cream cakes are called)
Nora: HA! No way, dude. You can have one after lunch.
JOHN: (Screaming again) But I did have lunch!
NORA: You did not have lunch before 9.
JOHN: I get a treat!!!
(John procedes to scream for no less than 20 mins. Nora leaves the room and goes upstairs so she won't have to deal with his constant "I hate yous". When he's quiet she goes downstairs again.)
NORA: I need to go to the grocery store. Wanna come?
JOHN: No.
NORA: I'll be getting food this time...
JOHN: Let's go right now!

Other news. At Hannan House we're performing The Legend of Sleepy Hollow next. This time my Grandma will play someone named Van Ripper. With this in mind, life won't be boring for a while yet...

We opened Moonglow this week. I hear the audience reactions pretty clearly. Tons of laughing or sniffling. The woman who plays Maxine (me when I'm old, sorta... you gotta see it) is astounding. I have a greater appreciation for the play as a whole since we've had good audience feedback so far, much which comes from my Joel. I had no idea how much his opinion mattered to me... but I guess I don't want to embarrass him any more so enough about that. But I'm glad that he liked it. I'm very encouraged after this weekend, from Joel, from the director and the from the playwright. I'm glad to be a part of the show.

It sure is nice to be paid to act... And it's nice to be paid PERIOD, since now I can go grocery shopping, etc. I have been well-taken care of in my time of broke-ness, and I'm super grateful to all that helped.

I leave you with something I caught Stevie Wonder saying today at the bit of pre-show I got to see between shows today. (And WHY he didn't have the halftime slot in the motor city is totally beyond me. Who makes these decisions anyway? He sounded great, by the way...) After singing "Now is the time for love" or something like that, he said, "Remember, it's not the religion, but the relationship..." I had no idea Stevie had been attending Dale Batten's Bible Study!

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment

Living from paycheck to paycheck is a fine way to live (I guess) until one of your paychecks falls through because the lady who is supposed to sign it went out of town. And then some of the kids you are supposed to be nannying get the stomach flu... So, I've been scrounging around for ways to put gas in the car so I can go to work in Ann Arbor. On Thursday, I had a little adventure.

I babysat John Garrett (who's parents are letting me pay for the van they let me use by babysitting for them for free). While he watched the Labyrinth in Erinn and my living room, I remembered the bottles and cans from the Christmas party that were bagged and in the basement. After the movie, I loaded John and the deposit-fest into the van and headed over to the Value-Plus grocery store where I knew there was a deposit despenser...

I did not think about it much. I didn't take into account that John has my coloring and therefore looks like my son. I didn't think about the fact that I would be entering a grocery store with a cart full of beer bottles, a four year old (who looks six), and no wedding ring. It didn't cross my mind that I would be going in there with bottles and a "son" and coming out with cold cash. It all just never crossed my mind until I got there.

While we were throwing the cans in the despenser (and taking joy at the crunch sound they make), an elderly gentleman parked his walker by the shopping carts to get a closer look so that he could display his obvious disapproval. I got tons of looks from other people and then wondered if this is what being a young single mother would be all about... Though I guess the beer cans were 60% of the reactions. We had to wait in line to get the slips cashed from the cashier. She gave me an amused look. On the way out John asked why we didn't get any food. "Because I need money for gas." He, also, glowered at me in disapproval. I never felt so poor in my life.

I couldn't help but be thankful that I'm no single mother. And wonder if this is the kind of mother I'd be...

happenings

i don't know if that's a good title for this post, but i am tired of just writing "update".

So, i live half my life in ann arbor with this show. the dancing is fun, but it doesn't seem like nearly as much dancing as when i started. the moves don't seem that difficult anymore (maybe because i've been sort of watching ice-skating, which looks sooo much harder than swinging.) because it's a new show, the playwright keeps adding lines so the other day i got three more pages of dialogue for the last scene. this is good but a little nerve-wracking. the show is coming together. we're moving into the theater tonight. i'm excited about that because the rehearsal room isn't big enough and i'm always afraid that i'm going to dance all over (and kick) the director and stage manager.

I'm still staying with Bethany a lot, but this week I stayed with Alec (from Inherit the Wind) as well and stayed up till 4am jamming with him. We may have written a song. I'd written the words earlier that day (while Ella and Olivia watched their daily Dora the Explorer marathon.) So we put my words to a chord pattern Alec had. That was a blast though we may have blasted the neighbors out of sleep. it was a fiday night, come on. I haven't been taking guitar lessons though, because a) no money and b) no time. I would like to get back into that.

I've been pretty upset lately because my theater addiction has been preventing me from meeting people's requests to sing at weddings and funerals. Well, one wedding and one funeral. Twice, I had to turn people down this week because I can't be let out of crucial rehearsals. This makes me question how much I should be doing theater. In a way, I'm doing it for the money (can you believe that?), but I was really bummed out about having to tell those people no. I guess it's because I like to feel like I'm using my singing to serve the community and I just can't. I wonder if all artists face this fear of selfishness, or if any other business is as rigid.

please excuse the typos. i didn't have time to proofread... i'll fix em later

LINKS

How does one put links on their blogger template? (Like you have, Ian).

George MacDonald quote of the week:

"For he regards men not as they are merely, but as they shall be; not as they shall be merely, but as they are now growing, or capable of growing, toward that image after which He made them that they might grow to it. Therefore, a thousand stages, each in itself all but valueless, are of inestimable worth as the necessary and connected gradations of an infinite process."

a silly poem and a more serious one

Bethany Goad and I started a braided poetry exchage (like I do has Meg, like Joel has with Rob, like they got the idea from Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser). She wrote a poem about tuna fish. I write one about

AN IMPRESSION OF CHILDHOOD

In my early childhood,
Chicken of the sea was all I'd eat.
The name disguised the fins in feathers,
That's probably why.

A cartoon mermaid graced the can
Another, the silver screen,
To my horror: Her face matched
The fins she'd sacrificed, when
Served palace seafood.
She had a nice voice.
I wanted that voice,
Those breasts, that face.
My tolerance for seafood
Washed away with the seafoam
Mr. Anderson originally wrote
As the mermaid's doom.
When Disney dumbed down the ending
For family audiences.

In my early adulthood, I find
The voice shrill, the breasts fake,
The face cliche for the company,
And seafood delicious.
---
The other poem I wrote was based on her wonderful line, "All ideas plagarized somehow." :

ORIGINAL THOUGHT

tell me an orginal
thought I'd tell you
about surprise: wit and
poetry: words

sewn and strung,
pulled, dunked and
hung out to dry on
the tip of my lips.

my lips are thin
my tongue, burnt
on boiled thoughts,
seeped and brewed

chewed to mush,
pulp: an unborn child
shall remain hushed in
search of an original soul.

in the beginning there was
the word and the word
was original and the rest
is xeroxed. I'll take the xerox
if it's a copy of the Original.

updatin

the theater thing continues. after the audition marathon the other day, when i had callbacks for both brooklyn boy at the jet and moonglow at the perf. network in ann arbor, i got cast in moonglow, replacing my dear friend shannon because she needed superbowl sunday off and they wouldn't get an understudy (so i heard). it has about a six week run, starting the first week in february. it's about dementia and nursing homes and swing dancing. i play "the girl" version of the protagonist, maxine, who has flashbacks to her days as a swing dancing gal. so i will be dancing a lot, which my grandmothers will like, but the rest of it might freak them out beyond sleep that evening or the evenings to follow.

in april i will spend three weeks at the boershead in lansing with this play. my my, what a commute.

christmas was busy as hell. is hell a busy place? busy as walmart. i had a party, my parents had three, the florkowski's had one, and rob had one. they were all nice and they were all a blur. i saw lots of good people all weekend, ate food that was just as good (though good in a different way) received some good ways to occupy my time as gifts, and ate lots of dessert. also good.

highlight of the week:
when i went to the gas station yesterday, i got a special discount from the guy behind the counter because he thought i was his middle-eastern cousin! and the name nora strikes again!

One more note: if you are in ann arbor, let me know! i need places to crash, esp. on saturday nights because i have to do sunday matinees.

discovery

my parents are in ny visiting jeff wilkinson and i am raiding their computer and their fridge and i found, from one of the christmas parties, someone left toffee/chocolate brittle in the freezer!

and some people think there's no God...

Tom Waits on Poetry

"Poetry is a dangerous word. It's very misused. Most people when they hear the word "Poetry" think of being chained to a school desk, memorizing "Ode to the Grecian Urn." When someone tells me they're going to read me a poem, I can think of any number of things I'd rather be doing. I don't like the stigma that comes from being called a poet--So I call what I'm doing an improvisational adventure or an inebriational travelogue, and all the sudden it takes on a while new form and meaning.

If I'm tied down to call myself something, I prefer "storyteller." Everyone has their own definition of what poetry is, and of who's a poet. I think Charles Bukowski is a poet--and I think most will agree to that."

Radio Heaven

On the way home from the Audition-Marathon, This Over the Rhine quote slapped me pretty hard.

i guess i never told you
'bout this life i'm livin'
it's heaven versus hell
in a split decision
this secret religion is
the best that i've found
i radio heaven
when no one's around
~I Radio Heaven

Thinking about Poetry

Okay, so I've been using a supposed Auden quote for nearly half a decade now... I shared it with Rob who, in a little less toned-down way, said Auden's philosophy was "self indulgent" (ha ha ha, Robby Z!). So, I'm going to retell the story that my poetry professor told me about the fellow and then discuss it.

I've often quoted the poet man as saying that poetry is playing with words. That is a rough summery of this story:

When Auden was teaching at some university (he taught at several including that big Blue one), a student showed up in his office and said, "I want to write poetry."
To which Auden replied, "How come?" and the student said,
"Because I have something to say."
And Auden said, "Then go ahead and say it."
Another student comes into his office and said the same thing. "I want to be a poet.
Auden says, "How come?"
The student says: "I like to play with words."
And Auden says, "Sit down."

Or maybe it was told to me that the student said, "I like words."


So, that's the idea that was put in my head by my poetry-as-lit-professor, Professor Powers while I was simultaneously taking my first poetry/fiction CW class. I liked this idea a lot--that poetry was separate from other writing forms because the author pays more attention to the words, their form, the way they sound--and not just the idea he's trying to convey.

(I don't think this story actually happened. It may have, but has the structure of a joke. I just enjoy the idea)

Rob's argument was that all writing is supposed to communicate, if not, it's masturbating. I agree with him on this--but i think both ideas are correct. I think Auden's poetry is a fine sample of wordplay and profound communication of ideas. I guess what I want to be, as a poet, is someone who can communicate and play at the same time. I think Shakespeare is one of the best at this, that I know anyway, at choosing words that convey ideas in their meaning and their sound. For example, in the Henry V prologue:

"Can this Cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?"
(meaning, can this theater hold the french fields we're trying to portray. Look guys! A reference to cockfighting! Where's the Cadieux?)

Can-This-Cockpit is abrupt sounding, limited sounding, if you will. And "Vasty Feilds of France" sounds huge--especially if you're trying to say it out loud, and the rhythm slows down.

So do you get what I'm saying? Anyway, I love discussing this stuff, and as many of you are poets, I'd like to know your thoughts.