Here's the link from Cute Overload
question: have you ever been licked by a cow?
mompoet - Happy Valentine's Day
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
a little extra is following me around today
I'm home for a bit with a feverish girl. Soon I'll go into the office, leaving her in her dad's capable care when he comes home from work. But this day is a little different for a much more interesting reason. Things are defying laws of probability all around me in a mini-circus of the mundane.
It began this morning when I served our son his breakfast. I brought him a couple of aspirins, plunking them down on the table alongside a glass of orange juice I was carrying in the other hand. Both tablets sat balanced on the table, on their edges.
Just now I set the bread machine so everyone will have nice warm bread tonight while I'm out at a meeting. I plopped two scoops of margarine into the bread machine and they landed one on top the other on the edge of the mixing blade like a happy little tower of butter.
So far I have not levitated the dog or picked the car up with one finger, but I'm going to be on the lookout to find out what mysterious force is causing things to sit up on their edges. hmmmm
question: any strange phenomena in your day?
mompoet - going now to spin some platters on chopsticks while I unload the dishwasher
It began this morning when I served our son his breakfast. I brought him a couple of aspirins, plunking them down on the table alongside a glass of orange juice I was carrying in the other hand. Both tablets sat balanced on the table, on their edges.
Just now I set the bread machine so everyone will have nice warm bread tonight while I'm out at a meeting. I plopped two scoops of margarine into the bread machine and they landed one on top the other on the edge of the mixing blade like a happy little tower of butter.
So far I have not levitated the dog or picked the car up with one finger, but I'm going to be on the lookout to find out what mysterious force is causing things to sit up on their edges. hmmmm
question: any strange phenomena in your day?
mompoet - going now to spin some platters on chopsticks while I unload the dishwasher
what not to get for valentine's day
I love Dooce, I do, I do.
On her featured links today there is a site for bad valentine gifts. Do not buy these.
On my list of less atrocious but still undesirable gifts:
-a silk rose
-a stuffed animal
-bad chocolate in a good wrapper
-guilt-induced or desperation-driven jewelry
-a book of inane platitudes
-a sappy figurine
-a satin pillow with a simpering slogan badly appliqued
-a valentine card featuring several excuses for lacklustre love behaviour during the previous year (you know the kind: "To my honey - I know I'm not handsome, and my kisses are dry, but you still love me...I just don't know why)
Give me a home-made card, a meal cooked together and eaten slowly, a modest quantity of good chocolate, not in a heart-shaped box. That's a nice valentine. Oh yeah, and wet kisses too. Handsome doesn't matter. Although I got handsome anyway. mmmm
question: what will you give/receive for Valentine's day?
mompoet - thinking about wolf urine
On her featured links today there is a site for bad valentine gifts. Do not buy these.
On my list of less atrocious but still undesirable gifts:
-a silk rose
-a stuffed animal
-bad chocolate in a good wrapper
-guilt-induced or desperation-driven jewelry
-a book of inane platitudes
-a sappy figurine
-a satin pillow with a simpering slogan badly appliqued
-a valentine card featuring several excuses for lacklustre love behaviour during the previous year (you know the kind: "To my honey - I know I'm not handsome, and my kisses are dry, but you still love me...I just don't know why)
Give me a home-made card, a meal cooked together and eaten slowly, a modest quantity of good chocolate, not in a heart-shaped box. That's a nice valentine. Oh yeah, and wet kisses too. Handsome doesn't matter. Although I got handsome anyway. mmmm
question: what will you give/receive for Valentine's day?
mompoet - thinking about wolf urine
Sunday, February 11, 2007
midnight cowboy trailer
Here's a taste of it. I think this is an ad for the re-mastered video.
question: did you see it?
mompoet - marvelling at the expanding universe of YouTube morsels
question: did you see it?
mompoet - marvelling at the expanding universe of YouTube morsels
good movie
Andy has a really bad cold. We cancelled supper out last night and stayed home to watch some movies. We saw Midnight Cowboy. I haven't watched that in years. What a good story about love and hope. The characters of Joe Buck and Rico Rizzo are totally endearing. I love Joe Buck's optimism and loving heart, especially in the bus ride, when his friend wets himself and Joe manages to get him laughing and feeling better. That's a good scene. Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman are still among my favourites. This movie is probably my favourite for both.
question: have you seen this lately?
mompoet - loving movies about interesting people
ps This is probably what made me think of salami - as in the party scene and Rizzo stealing salami, just in case you get the wrong idea when you read my dream post.
question: have you seen this lately?
mompoet - loving movies about interesting people
ps This is probably what made me think of salami - as in the party scene and Rizzo stealing salami, just in case you get the wrong idea when you read my dream post.
dreambling
I am at church. Today the children and youth are leading the service. I'm one of the Sunday school teachers, so I'm helping prepare. We have invited a neighbouring congregation to visit and share our worship. Our church is bustling with visitors and our own children, rushing around to get ready for their readings, and a short dramatic presentation that they have prepared. There are props, costumes, music - lots of distraction and activity.
Entering the sanctuary, I notice that the pews have all been removed, and replaced with bleachers, arranged arena-style. The bleachers are almost full, mostly with people I don't know. This increases the tension, as I hope our kids won't be too nervous. A group of pre-teen boys is joking and laughing together in one part of the bleachers.
The service begins, with one of our boys speaking words of welcome. The visiting boys in the bleachers have grown noisier and more disruptive. They ignore our boy. Finally someone from their church signals to them to quiet down.
At this point I leave the service, remembering that I forgot to eat breakfast. I tiptoe downstairs to the hall, and help myself to the table of food already set up for coffee time after service. Someone brought salami, cut into big chunks. I stuff a couple in my pocket and one in my mouth. Then I remember, I have to do a reading, so I run back upstairs with this big piece of salami in my mouth. I try to chew and swallow it in time but I can't, so I slip behind the altar into the corridor that leads to the church offices and search for a place to hide my salami. I'm opening cupboards and drawers and looking for the right place to empty my pockets and put the spit out chunk of salami, but none of the hiding places are right. I'm banging doors in despair when the dream ends.
question: what did you dream about?
mompoet - finding pretty obvious sources for this one
Entering the sanctuary, I notice that the pews have all been removed, and replaced with bleachers, arranged arena-style. The bleachers are almost full, mostly with people I don't know. This increases the tension, as I hope our kids won't be too nervous. A group of pre-teen boys is joking and laughing together in one part of the bleachers.
The service begins, with one of our boys speaking words of welcome. The visiting boys in the bleachers have grown noisier and more disruptive. They ignore our boy. Finally someone from their church signals to them to quiet down.
At this point I leave the service, remembering that I forgot to eat breakfast. I tiptoe downstairs to the hall, and help myself to the table of food already set up for coffee time after service. Someone brought salami, cut into big chunks. I stuff a couple in my pocket and one in my mouth. Then I remember, I have to do a reading, so I run back upstairs with this big piece of salami in my mouth. I try to chew and swallow it in time but I can't, so I slip behind the altar into the corridor that leads to the church offices and search for a place to hide my salami. I'm opening cupboards and drawers and looking for the right place to empty my pockets and put the spit out chunk of salami, but none of the hiding places are right. I'm banging doors in despair when the dream ends.
question: what did you dream about?
mompoet - finding pretty obvious sources for this one
reflecting
We have one of those sign boards outside of our church. One day, upon driving by, I noticed that someone had changed the message to read, "A closed mouth gathers no foot." I thought about what this meant, and phoned the minister to disagree, and request that this message not be left up. It turns out a well-meaning volunteer had posted this as a tongue-in-cheek comment, not meaning to condone censorship, but it could be read that way, so it was taken down.
Re-reading yesterday's post, and having suffered a night of uncharacteristically disrupted sleep, I have decided to remove one foot from my mouth, but not to close it, and also to risk putting in the other in its place.
My own words about the movie Jesus Camp and the families who children are portrayed in the documentary have echoed in my mind. After my blurt of reaction, I began to think about how it would feel if my own criticsms were directed back at me. There are some that I have to retract or rephrase and some for which I'd like to apologize.
First of all, this:
...it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.
I realise that by saying this, I am saying to them the same thing they are saying to others, that their way of seeing God is wrong. This is pretty bad logic and dicey morality, and I would like to change it to say that I disagree with the way these people see God, and believe it to be the opposite of my own understanding that Christians see Christ in everyone they meet.
Next this:
(referring to the children) I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.)
What a terrible thing for me to hope. I would be devastated if somebody wished that of my family just because they disagreed with how my husband and I are raising our kids. It is totally inappropriate for me to suggest such a thing about anyone. I sincerely retract and apologize for this statement.
My Dad pointed me to a review of the movie in the New York Times that suggests another way in which the children might change their beliefs,
The great unanswered question is what will happen to these poised, attractive children when their hormones kick in and they venture beyond their sheltered home and church environments.
Finally, if my comments were construed to indicate that my church is best and/or all Christian Evangelical churches are bad. I apologize for that too. The movie showed one church and gave convincing evidence that the extreme practices and beliefs of this church are growing and spreading. Still, I can't say that this means all evangelical churches do this or that all that they do is bad. I didn't mean to say that, but it could seem like I did, and I regret if it seemed that way.
I remain alarmed and offended by the idea that impressionable children are being taught in some churches the way that children in Jesus Camp are being taught. I disagree strongly and absolutely with a "our way or the highway to hell" understanding of God. I will do my best to express myself, and follow up when I realise I'm out of line. My mouth has room for a foot or two, and they'll surely find there way there again. Better that than to sit silently when I see something that I believe is wrong.
question: did you ever find yourself in this situation?
mompoet - learning to wield the power of free speech with grace and responsibility
Re-reading yesterday's post, and having suffered a night of uncharacteristically disrupted sleep, I have decided to remove one foot from my mouth, but not to close it, and also to risk putting in the other in its place.
My own words about the movie Jesus Camp and the families who children are portrayed in the documentary have echoed in my mind. After my blurt of reaction, I began to think about how it would feel if my own criticsms were directed back at me. There are some that I have to retract or rephrase and some for which I'd like to apologize.
First of all, this:
...it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.
I realise that by saying this, I am saying to them the same thing they are saying to others, that their way of seeing God is wrong. This is pretty bad logic and dicey morality, and I would like to change it to say that I disagree with the way these people see God, and believe it to be the opposite of my own understanding that Christians see Christ in everyone they meet.
Next this:
(referring to the children) I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.)
What a terrible thing for me to hope. I would be devastated if somebody wished that of my family just because they disagreed with how my husband and I are raising our kids. It is totally inappropriate for me to suggest such a thing about anyone. I sincerely retract and apologize for this statement.
My Dad pointed me to a review of the movie in the New York Times that suggests another way in which the children might change their beliefs,
The great unanswered question is what will happen to these poised, attractive children when their hormones kick in and they venture beyond their sheltered home and church environments.
Finally, if my comments were construed to indicate that my church is best and/or all Christian Evangelical churches are bad. I apologize for that too. The movie showed one church and gave convincing evidence that the extreme practices and beliefs of this church are growing and spreading. Still, I can't say that this means all evangelical churches do this or that all that they do is bad. I didn't mean to say that, but it could seem like I did, and I regret if it seemed that way.
I remain alarmed and offended by the idea that impressionable children are being taught in some churches the way that children in Jesus Camp are being taught. I disagree strongly and absolutely with a "our way or the highway to hell" understanding of God. I will do my best to express myself, and follow up when I realise I'm out of line. My mouth has room for a foot or two, and they'll surely find there way there again. Better that than to sit silently when I see something that I believe is wrong.
question: did you ever find yourself in this situation?
mompoet - learning to wield the power of free speech with grace and responsibility
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Jesus Camp
I was at the video store, checking out some PlayStation game (Alex drove), Oliver (for the actor girl who'll play the role of Nancy in the school production) , Souvenirs of Canada, and Jesus Camp. The young clerk scans the boxes and says, "I've heard nothing but good about Jesus Camp. There are some pretty scary parts in there. You know." Of course, 16 year old Alex's ears perked at this. "Is it a horror movie, mom?" I laughed and told him no. Then I made the clerk uncomfortable for a minute by saying, "We're Christians you know - but not the kind in that movie. They're not the only kind." After that he didn't know what to say. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but it seems like we should all be able to be what we are and tell how we feel about it, as long is it doesn't harm someone else or take away someone else's right to be and say who they are.
As United Church of Canada people, we are part of a spiritual community that is at the forefront of the church-based peace movement in Canada, and embraces and honours all faiths. We are sometimes jokingly called "The NDP at prayer," which labels as as non-radical but anti-establishment, left-leaning Christian people. We have blots on our history - residential schools and condemnation of homosexuality until the 1960s, but as far as mainstream churches go, we have come around to a different way of thinking, acting and believing about social issues and our place in a large and diverse world. Our church was among the first to ordain gay ministers, celebrate gay marriages, and apologize and work collaboratively with First Nations people to address our wrongs of the past. We recently stopped calling God "he" or "she" for the most part and just say "God" over and over (I never thought I'd yearn for a pronoun, but sometimes it feels awkward). My experience of my own church community (I'm a newcomer - just 5 years in) is that we all have a sense of humour about ourselves and our understanding of God, and we keep learning. We are committed to living our lives as part of the body of Christ, and seeing God in everyone we meet - whether we agree or disagree with that person. But it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.
We watched this documentary at home last night. It would have been funny if it wasn't so frightening and sad. It's about Evangelical Christians in the US, and their work with children - to build an army of committed ultra-conservative Christians to take over world leadership. Pastor Becky, the Children's Minister of a big congregation, and organizer of the evangelical children's camp, admits openly that she would like to see Christian children indoctrinated in evangelical beliefs so they can fight a war for what she knows is right and true. Watching the movie, we met lots of beautiful children who have been taught by their parents and church leaders that there is only one truth, and if you don't believe it and follow it, you will go to hell. We saw the isolation of these children from other influences. The movie says that 75% of all home-schooled kids in the US are evangelical Christians. We saw them learning the importance of influencing the selection of Supreme Court Justices and that the separation of church and state is evil.
I would like to see these kids a few years from now - maybe in a series like the "Up" documentaries of Paul Almond and Michael Apted. I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.) Most likely, most of them will grow up to do an even better, awfuler job of what their parents and leaders are succeeding at now, with their own children. But I sure hope not.
In the meantime, I'll keep thinking and talking about it with our kids, attending my shrinking church, adhering to a non-literal understanding of the Bible, and believing in God as a force of power and love for everyone. I don't think I'm a bad Christian when I say that I think that if there is one true path to goodness and salvation, it's wide, with room for all kinds of walking, talking, believing, worshiping and living. Not like Jesus Camp.
question: have you seen this yet?
mompoet - pondering
As United Church of Canada people, we are part of a spiritual community that is at the forefront of the church-based peace movement in Canada, and embraces and honours all faiths. We are sometimes jokingly called "The NDP at prayer," which labels as as non-radical but anti-establishment, left-leaning Christian people. We have blots on our history - residential schools and condemnation of homosexuality until the 1960s, but as far as mainstream churches go, we have come around to a different way of thinking, acting and believing about social issues and our place in a large and diverse world. Our church was among the first to ordain gay ministers, celebrate gay marriages, and apologize and work collaboratively with First Nations people to address our wrongs of the past. We recently stopped calling God "he" or "she" for the most part and just say "God" over and over (I never thought I'd yearn for a pronoun, but sometimes it feels awkward). My experience of my own church community (I'm a newcomer - just 5 years in) is that we all have a sense of humour about ourselves and our understanding of God, and we keep learning. We are committed to living our lives as part of the body of Christ, and seeing God in everyone we meet - whether we agree or disagree with that person. But it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.
We watched this documentary at home last night. It would have been funny if it wasn't so frightening and sad. It's about Evangelical Christians in the US, and their work with children - to build an army of committed ultra-conservative Christians to take over world leadership. Pastor Becky, the Children's Minister of a big congregation, and organizer of the evangelical children's camp, admits openly that she would like to see Christian children indoctrinated in evangelical beliefs so they can fight a war for what she knows is right and true. Watching the movie, we met lots of beautiful children who have been taught by their parents and church leaders that there is only one truth, and if you don't believe it and follow it, you will go to hell. We saw the isolation of these children from other influences. The movie says that 75% of all home-schooled kids in the US are evangelical Christians. We saw them learning the importance of influencing the selection of Supreme Court Justices and that the separation of church and state is evil.
I would like to see these kids a few years from now - maybe in a series like the "Up" documentaries of Paul Almond and Michael Apted. I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.) Most likely, most of them will grow up to do an even better, awfuler job of what their parents and leaders are succeeding at now, with their own children. But I sure hope not.
In the meantime, I'll keep thinking and talking about it with our kids, attending my shrinking church, adhering to a non-literal understanding of the Bible, and believing in God as a force of power and love for everyone. I don't think I'm a bad Christian when I say that I think that if there is one true path to goodness and salvation, it's wide, with room for all kinds of walking, talking, believing, worshiping and living. Not like Jesus Camp.
question: have you seen this yet?
mompoet - pondering
Friday, February 09, 2007
CBC and me
I have been asked to participate once again in the CBC Poetry Face Off. This year's theme is "Made in Canada." They're bringing back previous years' participants, so this year I'll be sharing the stage with some very strong writers and performers. I reckon it's like skating with the Canucks (on a good night). In a way it is freeing. I can write just what I want and perform it just as I like. If I win it will be totally astonishing. More likely I will enjoy the honour of being selected for the same category as Barbara Adler, Fernando Raguero, C.R. Avery and Brendan McLeod.
By the way, I sent two photos for the Face Off website. They chose to go with the one they used last year (laughing mompoet wearing white). I wonder why they didn't pick this more recent picture? (hi Valerie! Are you still there?)
I'm taking a different approach preparing this year's poem and I hope it will turn out to be something good. I haven't been writing a lot lately so I'm either going to burst out with something excellent or it will be like coughing up a furball. Hopefully the former.
The live event will be Monday March 5 at Cafe Deux Soleils at 8pm (arrive before 7 for a good seat and some of the cafe's yummy vegetarian food), before the regular slam. They'll play the poems on the radio some time later. When all of the cities are finished with their competitions, the city champs will be on the web for online cross-Canada voting. I'm looking forward to it in a polite, ambiguous, nervous, self-effacing, made-in-Canada kind of way.
question: have you got your stuff in any contests right now?
mompoet - I hope you win.
By the way, I sent two photos for the Face Off website. They chose to go with the one they used last year (laughing mompoet wearing white). I wonder why they didn't pick this more recent picture? (hi Valerie! Are you still there?)
I'm taking a different approach preparing this year's poem and I hope it will turn out to be something good. I haven't been writing a lot lately so I'm either going to burst out with something excellent or it will be like coughing up a furball. Hopefully the former.
The live event will be Monday March 5 at Cafe Deux Soleils at 8pm (arrive before 7 for a good seat and some of the cafe's yummy vegetarian food), before the regular slam. They'll play the poems on the radio some time later. When all of the cities are finished with their competitions, the city champs will be on the web for online cross-Canada voting. I'm looking forward to it in a polite, ambiguous, nervous, self-effacing, made-in-Canada kind of way.
question: have you got your stuff in any contests right now?
mompoet - I hope you win.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
I didn't think I would do this well...
You know the Bible 75%!
Wow! You are truly a student of the Bible! Some of the questions were difficult, but they didn't slow you down! You know the books, the characters, the events . . . Very impressive!
Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes
Thank you to Carol for steering me to this quiz.
question: how well do you know the Bible?
mompoet - wondering how well I could know it, and agreeing with Carol that it's the actions that really count, more so than the knowledge
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
ping pong brain
I am half here, half there, ping-ponging from right now, back to the day before yesterday, ahead to next week. I am fuddle-brained and awkward, tired, confused, elated and absent-minded. I put the cheese away in the cupboard instead of the fridge, walked into a counter with my eyes closed in the changeroom at the gym (don't ask my why I was walking around the changeroom with my eyes closed, I'm not sure myself, but it had something to do with having too much hair gel on my fingers), and failed at the simple task of mailing a contract to CBC radio (one empty envelope followed by one unsigned contract - the signed copy neatly filed in my important papers drawer at home). I am prone to writing run-on sentences that make only marginal sense.
I reassure myself that this is the natural outcome of an intense week of maximal brain-usage, emotional buildup and general excitement. This is the wasabi omelette of life that I seek with such determination. If I wanted to be calm and collected, I would conduct myself much differently. Still, I alarm myself with my dunder-headed aftershocking.
I will breathe in, breathe out. Reflect in solitude and in communication with others who shared the experience. I will know what it is to be human and have done something remarkable with other human beings. New things will happen and this will become part of my history, a shiny red and black growth ring with the imprint of a beaver tail.
tra la la
oh crap, where did I put the cat?
question: put that in the wrong place too
mompoet - discombobulated but okay with it
I reassure myself that this is the natural outcome of an intense week of maximal brain-usage, emotional buildup and general excitement. This is the wasabi omelette of life that I seek with such determination. If I wanted to be calm and collected, I would conduct myself much differently. Still, I alarm myself with my dunder-headed aftershocking.
I will breathe in, breathe out. Reflect in solitude and in communication with others who shared the experience. I will know what it is to be human and have done something remarkable with other human beings. New things will happen and this will become part of my history, a shiny red and black growth ring with the imprint of a beaver tail.
tra la la
oh crap, where did I put the cat?
question: put that in the wrong place too
mompoet - discombobulated but okay with it
Monday, February 05, 2007
two voices
Seventy-two poets competed at iWPS last week. Even more performed at the open mics and showcases. I soaked up so many ideas, voices and performance styles I can barely believe, let alone explain it.
Of course I have favourites, and being impulsive I chose them on the first night of preliminaries, then maintained that opinion through the rest of the festival. My favourites weren't in the finals, which probably increased my preference for them. They are fresh and different, and I hope to hear more of their work soon.
Brian Ellis is the iWPS rep from Cambridge Massachusetts. I heard him performing in both nights of preliminary competition. I can remember two of his poems very clearly, Cab 95 and I Wake Up. The first is about a part-time job as a taxi driver. The second is a surreal time-life-travel piece about waking up in various experiences. I have scoured the web for something of his in a sound file or even text, but it doesn't seem to be there. It's too bad, because I can't convey in this post the exquisite beauty of his work. It's haunting and jarring in turns. I can't get this phrase out of my mind: "Ninety-five, are you THERE?"
Evy Gildrie-Voyles is from Madison Wisconsin. I heard her also on both prelim nights, and at the Women's Showcase and Anything Goes Slam. At the Anything Goes, she performed a prop poem about her first kiss. Through the poem she holds a rose. Describing the kiss she eats the petals. The ending is spectacular. The other poems I remember her telling are about putting on makeup and about preferring a lover of substantial girth. Her poetry is funny and intelligent and honest and real. It doesn't seem to be on the web anywhere either.
The other poet who is an old favourite, but sticks out in my mind from this festival is Jack McCarthy from Everett Washington. He's been one of my favourites forever. He's all over the web if you look for him, and lucky for us, he comes to Vancouver quite often. Jack was not an iWPS competitor. He hosted the 21st Century Campfire - a story and song showcase, and competed in the haiku slam.
I hope Brian Ellis and Evy Gildrie-Voyles come back soon. In the sea of poets that was last week, these two stood out for me. It would be unfair to say that there is a formula for winning slam poetry, but there are patterns, and their poems did not conform. They did not rant, shout, shake fists, rail against mainstream politics or religion, brag/complain about sex, or tell their stories of abuse. This also isn't to say that these topics aren't worthy, or that they're used up. But they are well and often-used enough that I have mental categories for them.
Brian and Evie's poems at iWPS were different. Their poems were personal and authentic. They connected with experiences that I understood, but told them from a slightly different angle. Their expression was beautiful and provocative. They stand out. I remember and appreciate them.
As for Jack McCarthy. I like him for all of the same reasons, and especially for his wonderful haikus that gave him winning place in the haiku slam. And for coming to Vancouver and just being Jack.
question: did you have favourites?
mompoet - two scoops with a cherry on top
Of course I have favourites, and being impulsive I chose them on the first night of preliminaries, then maintained that opinion through the rest of the festival. My favourites weren't in the finals, which probably increased my preference for them. They are fresh and different, and I hope to hear more of their work soon.
Brian Ellis is the iWPS rep from Cambridge Massachusetts. I heard him performing in both nights of preliminary competition. I can remember two of his poems very clearly, Cab 95 and I Wake Up. The first is about a part-time job as a taxi driver. The second is a surreal time-life-travel piece about waking up in various experiences. I have scoured the web for something of his in a sound file or even text, but it doesn't seem to be there. It's too bad, because I can't convey in this post the exquisite beauty of his work. It's haunting and jarring in turns. I can't get this phrase out of my mind: "Ninety-five, are you THERE?"
Evy Gildrie-Voyles is from Madison Wisconsin. I heard her also on both prelim nights, and at the Women's Showcase and Anything Goes Slam. At the Anything Goes, she performed a prop poem about her first kiss. Through the poem she holds a rose. Describing the kiss she eats the petals. The ending is spectacular. The other poems I remember her telling are about putting on makeup and about preferring a lover of substantial girth. Her poetry is funny and intelligent and honest and real. It doesn't seem to be on the web anywhere either.
The other poet who is an old favourite, but sticks out in my mind from this festival is Jack McCarthy from Everett Washington. He's been one of my favourites forever. He's all over the web if you look for him, and lucky for us, he comes to Vancouver quite often. Jack was not an iWPS competitor. He hosted the 21st Century Campfire - a story and song showcase, and competed in the haiku slam.
I hope Brian Ellis and Evy Gildrie-Voyles come back soon. In the sea of poets that was last week, these two stood out for me. It would be unfair to say that there is a formula for winning slam poetry, but there are patterns, and their poems did not conform. They did not rant, shout, shake fists, rail against mainstream politics or religion, brag/complain about sex, or tell their stories of abuse. This also isn't to say that these topics aren't worthy, or that they're used up. But they are well and often-used enough that I have mental categories for them.
Brian and Evie's poems at iWPS were different. Their poems were personal and authentic. They connected with experiences that I understood, but told them from a slightly different angle. Their expression was beautiful and provocative. They stand out. I remember and appreciate them.
As for Jack McCarthy. I like him for all of the same reasons, and especially for his wonderful haikus that gave him winning place in the haiku slam. And for coming to Vancouver and just being Jack.
question: did you have favourites?
mompoet - two scoops with a cherry on top
Sunday, February 04, 2007
we're done
I am now home from iWPS. I didn't travel as far to get there as most of the people who came, but it has been a journey. After two years of thinking, planning, hoping, arguing, laughing and thanking God and my lucky stars more than once, we did it.
Finals Night was unbelievable. I kept wondering if it was really happening. I kept worrying that I would feel terribly sad when it was over. Then there I was, witnessing a world class poetry competition in the Rio Theatre, where we go to watch movies, in a neighbourhood not far from my home, with my friends around me, all breathing out and saying, "yes! we did it!"
Getting the audience into the sold out theatre was the only stressful part of the evening from what I could tell. Sean McGarragle, our venue coordinator for the evening, marshalled the jigsaw puzzle filling of every seat in the house, while 150 hopefuls stood outside, chilling in the rush ticket line, hoping to grab a seat left vacant by a no-show. A stream of poets went outside to entertain the people who were waiting and hoping to get in. Somebody said, "They never do that at rock concerts, do they?" Staff at the Rio helped us find and fill every nook and cranny so at least some of the people in the lineup had their wishes granted. Even with all that, the show began almost on time.
The competition was incredible. All of the sounds and thoughts from the performance are tumbled together in my head and echoing in my ears, waiting to be untangled. Luckily I wrote down a thought or a few words about each poem I heard so I can remember. I can only think that the judges had an impossible task, discerning who was the best. Judging is hard.
The show was tight and not long, with negligible breaks. Our lovely, lovely volunteers scooted out to the lobby whenever a handful of audience needed snacks or beer or wanted to buy books or cds at the merch table, then scooted back in to enjoy the show. At the end, the tournament organizers invited the host city people (that's us) up on stage for recognition. All through the days of this festival, thanks and praise from poets, officials and audience members has been lavished on us. It feels good to know that we made the right choices and worked hard on the right things to make sure people felt welcome, and the tournament ran smoothly. They clapped and cheered for us on stage. We gave our Artistic Direct, Angus Adair, a special gift - a festival jacket for him to remember his triumph. Then they announced the winners. Ed Mabrey from Columbus Ohio took first place. All of the poets came up on stage and there we were, at the end.
After the show, people stayed for about an hour, visiting in the lobby and on the sidewalk, and participating in the open mic, hosted by RC Weslowski, who put up with the laundry basket loads of heckling we've been saving up all week (we have been pretening to be nice while the Americans visited). Then we headed off to a house party which probably went on all night, although I stayed for just an hour.
I mentioned that I started the evening worried that I would feel terribly sad when it was over. I was surprised to find that I am not sad. At the end of the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word (the festival that we organized a year and a half ago) I felt like the day after Christmas. I sat in the dark at finals night, crying my eyes out. Last night I just felt happy and proud and relieved that it all went off without any major hitches. Today I am home, and glad to be here. I am filled up with poetry and friendship and the satisfaction of a job well done. I think there are a couple of reasons for this different reaction. I guess that iWPS is our second "baby" of a festival, and so easier to enjoy without fear, and also less mind-blowing because I knew what to expect. It's a mellower feeling, more philosophical and less raw, to contemplate what this one means. More importantly, this was really someone else's show. Poetry Slam Incorporated brought the competition here, and we, as host city staff, built a festival around it. Our role as organizers was different. Ownership, if you can call it that, was more at arm's length. The poets and other people were lovely, but fewer were people who I know well and care about deeply. I am less sad to see them all disperse. Finally, I know that Van Po House is a thing of beauty and value that will go on. At the end of CFSW I felt less so that way, even though we already knew we were committed to iWPS less than two years from that time. This second time around has shown us that we can do anything. I'm looking forward to finding out what's next.
Thinking about this helps me know that the important thing about all of this for me is the people who I have worked with to make it happen. Angus, Sean, Randy, Jim, and Steve and all of the other Poetry House friends who contributed to this project are the real poetry in this story. Unlike the poem fragments that are tangled up in my head from one big night, these people are solidly installed in my heart. I am grateful to work with them and be one of them. Thinking about that is the only thing that will make me cry. And it's happy crying.
Question: you make up the question
mompoet - home
Saturday, February 03, 2007
More poetry all the time, all day, all night
Holy smokes I think I'm going to burst. Friday was another day of poem after poem after poem after poem after poem. But first I caught up on some sleep, grabbing a couple of extra hours down time after Fi left for school.
We began with the Women's Showcase. The little Cafe Exotico de Brasil was completely all-the-way full. I co-hosted with Karen Garrabran, poet and slam organizer from Decatur, Georgia. We were scheduled from 2-3pm but ended up going for 90 minutes of poems because we let everyone read who wanted to read (including Karen and me - it felt good to perform a poem at the festival). It was like magic - the talent and intensity of the performers and their work glued us all together into one roomful of laughing, cheering and crying poets and friends. I will always remember it.
I caught part of the Anything Goes Slam next. I missed the first poet, who took off all of his clothes and performed naked in the glass front window of the coffee shop. I did catch some good group and prop pieces (not allowed in the official tournaments, but often more creative and entertaining).
In the evening I was back at Rime Restaurant where I worked as venue coordinator during the competition. This warm, wonderful place was a perfect venue with obliging staff and a great setup for performance. I will return for more of the delectable Turkish food that they serve there. Night two of Preliminary competition was good. The poets performed their 2 and 3 minute poems (the each perform a 1, 2, 3, and 4 minute poem during the course of the competition). After the competition, we had a late night show, the 21st Century Campfire (stories and music). I stayed for part of it, and pretty much laughed my head off at some of the stories which I cannot repeat in this blog, partly because it is a G-rated blog, and partly because I could never do them justice. I stumbled in the door at home after 2:30am.
Now I'm getting ready to pick up trophies for the winners. Finals is tonight at the Rio Theatre. I'm going to help set up, then come home and sleep for a couple of hours. It's going to be an almost all-nighter tonight. The top 12 poets will compete for the title, then there's a party that begins around midnight.
I'll be sad when this is over, but totally satisfied with how well it went. I have fulfilled my plan to meet people, enjoy new experiences and have fun - more so than I even imagined.
question: what just happened?
mompoet - stunned and smiling
We began with the Women's Showcase. The little Cafe Exotico de Brasil was completely all-the-way full. I co-hosted with Karen Garrabran, poet and slam organizer from Decatur, Georgia. We were scheduled from 2-3pm but ended up going for 90 minutes of poems because we let everyone read who wanted to read (including Karen and me - it felt good to perform a poem at the festival). It was like magic - the talent and intensity of the performers and their work glued us all together into one roomful of laughing, cheering and crying poets and friends. I will always remember it.
I caught part of the Anything Goes Slam next. I missed the first poet, who took off all of his clothes and performed naked in the glass front window of the coffee shop. I did catch some good group and prop pieces (not allowed in the official tournaments, but often more creative and entertaining).
In the evening I was back at Rime Restaurant where I worked as venue coordinator during the competition. This warm, wonderful place was a perfect venue with obliging staff and a great setup for performance. I will return for more of the delectable Turkish food that they serve there. Night two of Preliminary competition was good. The poets performed their 2 and 3 minute poems (the each perform a 1, 2, 3, and 4 minute poem during the course of the competition). After the competition, we had a late night show, the 21st Century Campfire (stories and music). I stayed for part of it, and pretty much laughed my head off at some of the stories which I cannot repeat in this blog, partly because it is a G-rated blog, and partly because I could never do them justice. I stumbled in the door at home after 2:30am.
Now I'm getting ready to pick up trophies for the winners. Finals is tonight at the Rio Theatre. I'm going to help set up, then come home and sleep for a couple of hours. It's going to be an almost all-nighter tonight. The top 12 poets will compete for the title, then there's a party that begins around midnight.
I'll be sad when this is over, but totally satisfied with how well it went. I have fulfilled my plan to meet people, enjoy new experiences and have fun - more so than I even imagined.
question: what just happened?
mompoet - stunned and smiling
Friday, February 02, 2007
top of my head blown off
Just a list today of new things that have wrenched my heart with shocks of joy and recognition, popped open the top of my skull and sent my brain cartwheeling into the sky:
question: have you seen my brain
mompoet - levitating
- iWPS registration
- the bout draw - hooray for all the poets, and now 3 from Vancouver in the show
- haiku slam (one hand clapping, two hands clapping, no hand clapping)
- Joaquin Zihuatanejo of Dallas Texas as a super-villain of the barrio
- Brian Ellis of Cambridge Massachusetts - #95 are you there yet?
- Evy Gildri-Voyles of Madison Wisconsin boiling the noodles and draining the noodles
- bamya at Rime Restaurant (mmmm okra)
- Ansel Appleton of Montague City Massachusetts about love
- Benjamin IQ Sander of Memphis Tennessee performing without his shades
- the amazing clockwork of an official bout, like ballet - more work that is apparent to the audience, makes flying look easy (my new heroes - PSi mcs and bout managers)
- volunteers - oh how I love volunteers - loving to work and working with intelligence and zest
- my pillow, calling to me sweetly with a song more seductive than any Erotica Reading
question: have you seen my brain
mompoet - levitating
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Nelson is going to Ireland Today
I was sitting in my pajamas blogging about iWPS, when the phone rang. Kirsi is leaving this morning for a two-week visit with her friend Della in Ireland. She wanted me to bring Nelson over to her house so he can go with her to Ireland.
I ran over there in my pajamas and slippers, and managed to snap a photograph of Nelson just about to go into Kirsi's suitcase. Doesn't he look happy? The shot is a little blurry because I had to get the camera out of my frozen car, and the lens kept fogging up.
I think Kirsi will have a wonderful time in Ireland. Nelson is a lucky, lucky rat. Thank you Kirsi. Bon voyage Nelson.
The first day of the Individual World Poetry Slam
Wednesday was a whirlwind day, with unexpected twists and a good ending.
I started out at the gym. Working out always sets me up with more energy and better focus for the rest of the day. I hope I'll have the energy to go again on Friday morning, but maybe I'll need the sleep more than the rev-up. We'll see.
During the day I mostly ran errands. I ordered tournament trophies at the trophy store, did a bit more copying and laminating, went to Costco and got water for the tournament officials, then met our production coordinator at the music store to pay for the rental of sound equipment. While I was at Costco, my cell phone rang. It was a Canada Immigration official who had stopped one of our festival volunteers at the border. I had to fax a work schedule and job descriptions, plus a letter we have citing a section of the immigration policy manual in order to help the official determine that the volunteer did not require a work permit in order to help out for 3 days at our festival. I'm grateful for my cell phone and for fax machines. Without them, this volunteer would probably have been sent home. Getting poets and volunteers across the border has been one of our biggest concerns. The majority of competing poets and all of the tournament organizers come from the U.S. Good preparation and communication have been part of our plan. So far it's working relatively well.
By 4pm I was at the festival hotel to meet with volunteers and help with registration. My friends and fellow host city committee people, Sean and Angus were there, along with a mix of Vancouver and out-of-town volunteers. I finally got to meet the volunteers and Poetry Slam Incorporated people with whom I have been corresponding by email for the past few months. It was great to put faces to names and start to work together. Early registration went well. Poets are cool people. Volunteers are my heroes. I felt a lot of excitement, and everyone was happy with our host city committee's level of preparation and welcoming hospitality.
After a short volunteer meeting we headed over to the restaurant where the Aboriginal and Last Chance Slams were going. The volunteers and I were late because of our meeting, and the restaurant was already packed, with a sign on the door that said "FULL." For a few minutes it looked like we wouldn't get in, which would have been mighty disappointing, but we squeezed in, and in short order, all of the volunteers found seats. People kept arriving at the door, so I spent most of the night asking people to wait outside, and letting in a few at a time. At first I was really disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing the show, and here I was now, after a day of running around and serving people, stuck out in the foyer, being the gracious enforcer. I could hear just snippets of the poems, and lots of laughter and applause... Then I decided to make the best of it. I ordered supper, which the delightful restaurant staff served at the bar with warmth and good humour, and I chatted with the other people stuck in the waiting area. The restaurant servers got into the spirit, and put on a bit of a show for the customers, chatting and joking. The tension began to ease.
There was this vestibule off in the corner where I had to get people to stay put until we could move them into the restaurant, but at least they were warm. I got my schtick going about this little antechamber being the uterus of the restaurant. The people who reached this spot were now warm and protected, not into the show yet, but in gestation. In the fullness of time, they would be birthed into the room where the poets were performing. People were good-natured about the waiting when we started to have fun with it. By the end of the evening the room had given birth to everyone and even the latest-arrivers could get close enough to at least hear the last few performances.
All the while, the restaurant managers and servers were good sports. The place is called La Rocca, on Commercial Drive. The food and wine were very yummy. The people are super-friendly, and got right into the poetry, listening as they were taking care of the customers, and surviving an obstacle course of people parked on the floor and leaning up against the wall beside tables. We gave them all free tickets to the Van Slam at the end of the evening. They helped make a hectic-starting event stay friendly and fun.
Today there's more registration, the bout draw and another volunteer meeting, the Haiku and Mother Tongue Slams (day events) and the start of the official tournament with Preliminary Bouts, followed by the Erotica Reading late at night. In the evening I'm coordinating at one venue, where I'll be posted early on so I hope I'll get to see most of the show. Even if I don't, last night showed me that the show outside the show is almost as good. I would not have missed it for the world.
question - did you every make lemonade?
mompoet - I like mine with lots of lemon
I started out at the gym. Working out always sets me up with more energy and better focus for the rest of the day. I hope I'll have the energy to go again on Friday morning, but maybe I'll need the sleep more than the rev-up. We'll see.
During the day I mostly ran errands. I ordered tournament trophies at the trophy store, did a bit more copying and laminating, went to Costco and got water for the tournament officials, then met our production coordinator at the music store to pay for the rental of sound equipment. While I was at Costco, my cell phone rang. It was a Canada Immigration official who had stopped one of our festival volunteers at the border. I had to fax a work schedule and job descriptions, plus a letter we have citing a section of the immigration policy manual in order to help the official determine that the volunteer did not require a work permit in order to help out for 3 days at our festival. I'm grateful for my cell phone and for fax machines. Without them, this volunteer would probably have been sent home. Getting poets and volunteers across the border has been one of our biggest concerns. The majority of competing poets and all of the tournament organizers come from the U.S. Good preparation and communication have been part of our plan. So far it's working relatively well.
By 4pm I was at the festival hotel to meet with volunteers and help with registration. My friends and fellow host city committee people, Sean and Angus were there, along with a mix of Vancouver and out-of-town volunteers. I finally got to meet the volunteers and Poetry Slam Incorporated people with whom I have been corresponding by email for the past few months. It was great to put faces to names and start to work together. Early registration went well. Poets are cool people. Volunteers are my heroes. I felt a lot of excitement, and everyone was happy with our host city committee's level of preparation and welcoming hospitality.
After a short volunteer meeting we headed over to the restaurant where the Aboriginal and Last Chance Slams were going. The volunteers and I were late because of our meeting, and the restaurant was already packed, with a sign on the door that said "FULL." For a few minutes it looked like we wouldn't get in, which would have been mighty disappointing, but we squeezed in, and in short order, all of the volunteers found seats. People kept arriving at the door, so I spent most of the night asking people to wait outside, and letting in a few at a time. At first I was really disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing the show, and here I was now, after a day of running around and serving people, stuck out in the foyer, being the gracious enforcer. I could hear just snippets of the poems, and lots of laughter and applause... Then I decided to make the best of it. I ordered supper, which the delightful restaurant staff served at the bar with warmth and good humour, and I chatted with the other people stuck in the waiting area. The restaurant servers got into the spirit, and put on a bit of a show for the customers, chatting and joking. The tension began to ease.
There was this vestibule off in the corner where I had to get people to stay put until we could move them into the restaurant, but at least they were warm. I got my schtick going about this little antechamber being the uterus of the restaurant. The people who reached this spot were now warm and protected, not into the show yet, but in gestation. In the fullness of time, they would be birthed into the room where the poets were performing. People were good-natured about the waiting when we started to have fun with it. By the end of the evening the room had given birth to everyone and even the latest-arrivers could get close enough to at least hear the last few performances.
All the while, the restaurant managers and servers were good sports. The place is called La Rocca, on Commercial Drive. The food and wine were very yummy. The people are super-friendly, and got right into the poetry, listening as they were taking care of the customers, and surviving an obstacle course of people parked on the floor and leaning up against the wall beside tables. We gave them all free tickets to the Van Slam at the end of the evening. They helped make a hectic-starting event stay friendly and fun.
Today there's more registration, the bout draw and another volunteer meeting, the Haiku and Mother Tongue Slams (day events) and the start of the official tournament with Preliminary Bouts, followed by the Erotica Reading late at night. In the evening I'm coordinating at one venue, where I'll be posted early on so I hope I'll get to see most of the show. Even if I don't, last night showed me that the show outside the show is almost as good. I would not have missed it for the world.
question - did you every make lemonade?
mompoet - I like mine with lots of lemon
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