Mama don’t take my monochrome away
I’ve been feeling the black & white recently- the shape of things, the texture, the way light lays on things.
Thanks, world, for being beautiful.
After a couple months of trying to get there, but failing because of Saturday night plans, I finally hit up Balls Cabaret this past weekend. I feel more and more comfortable performing, and most times now, if I’m not competing, I don’t get nervous anymore. I performed Istanbul, and could hear people reacting in the audience, to certain lines, even if I couldn’t see them. I performed The Red Line as sort of a final catharsis, as I was sitting next to Marc, and he’d not heard it before. Finally, I performed the first chunk of the horror/persona poem that I’ve been working on- still needs some work, but ultimately, I feel pretty good about it.
I’m nervous about Army of Nursery Rhymes being done “in time” but I guess I don’t really have a time frame other than the one I’ve given myself. This is a little compounded by the fact that I’m going to San Francisco to visit friends and see the Individual World Poetry Slam in Berkeley, and am not sure how good I’ll be at finding replacement artists, should the ones I have not get the illustrations done by the deadline.
I’m getting lots of “we got your coverletter, and we’ll let you know” emails, letters, postcards… hopefully I’ll be getting some “we’d like to give you an interview” calls and emails soon. Until then, I keep looking. I feel good about how many coverletters and resumes I’m sending out, and about my attitude about the whole situation. Again, I’m worried that being in California might make the whole employment attempt a little harder, but I interview well, even by phone, and can send resumes from there as well as I can from here. What can I do but hold my breath and keep looking?
Finally, here’s an ode to Miss Ruth, my #1 commenter.
Her scar is a raindrop
drips down between her breasts
and makes her breaths misty and dark.
I have not seen her cry
and yet there is something overcast in her gaze
like she were on a boat
waiting for the fog to roll out to sea
so she could once again find the land.
the way the light lays on things
*guttural ruth sound of appreciation*