Poetry Champions

I am proud to introduce to you, the poetry champions of 2013!!!! I can't even begin to describe how much I love this community. They have so much love for each other and so much acceptance. I think there's a lot we can learn from them.

This last weekend, they had their third annual poetry championship at the University's poetry center downtown. The excitement and anticipation in the air was palpable. If I thought about it too much, my stomach twisted up in knots. If I didn't think about it... it was no use. They told us at the workshop the night previous that we should take some time to ourselves before it started to be still and "center" ourselves. This idea really appealed to me. But again, useless. Poets intermingled, surrounded by white noise, as more people arrived. There would be no quiet time for me.

16 poets.
2 rounds.
Only 8 advanced.

I tried not to think about the competition part of it too much. Logan had said the night before, "Based on the math, your odds of advancing are pretty low [the numbers were slightly different, then with a projected 20 poets arriving and only 5 advancing.]. This first poem is your moment to shine. Make the most of every second. Don't rush it. Take a deep breath. Let your pauses hang. Be deliberate. And at the end, soak it all in." I think that was the best advice he could've given me. Just stop and preserve the moment. It only lasts for three minutes.

The poets were on fire! The poetry was fierce! And two of the judges shocked the entire audience (all hundred people, including the mayor, several board members, and many teachers) with some harsh scores--perhaps even the lowest TYPS has ever seen. Poets exchanged wide-eyed glances as low 7's, high 6's, and a 5 and a 4 were thrown out. Frustrating though it was, it threw an element of unpredictability into the game that made things interesting. It was a complete toss-up who would advance. No one knew.

When my time came, third to last in the first round, I strode up to the mic. I had battled all the self-doubt throughout the competition. Now, I wasn't concerned about advancing. I didn't care if I got a low score. I was just there to perform and have my Moment and I was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

I swear, I spit fire on that mic. It was the most flawless performance of Moss I have ever done. Completely from memory. All the poets were getting into it. Snaps abounded. The swell of pride when I perform really well is difficult to describe. I scored in the mid-range: a few 7's, an 8, and two 9's. I couldn't have asked for better.

It wasn't enough to advance, but I felt so assured in my performance, I didn't even care. A bunch of my poet friends told me, "Well done." and "Your poetry has matured a lot from when you first started."

During the break, my friend introduced me to her uncle who told me, "Your poem really spoke to me and I was wondering if you could email me a copy of it." He told me about his story and how he was in the midst of a divorce. My heart went out to him and the pain he was going through. I was so honored that my poem and my personal struggles could reach out and touch another person and inspire hope. It was beautiful.

The poets definitely brought it in Round 2 and I am so proud of every one of them. I don't remember who the top 5 were because they downplayed the actual place-winners. "The point is not the points, the point is the poetry." It didn't matter who got first, second, third etc. In the end, every single poet who competed, who got up there and spoke their heart, gave voice to their thoughts--each and every one of us was a champion.

Watercolor Crazy

"After a thousand water colors you will find you have fallen in love with paper and paint"
-Rex Brandt

Arguably, truer words have never been spoken, at least in my case. Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of participating in a single art class on the topic of water colors, and I found it to be so engaging and fun that I wanted to give it a shot. Last night I had my chance. I pulled out my cheap watercolors and I made such masterpieces as these:

Please, by all means, bask in their glory. They are just gestures done in 2-3, 6, or 10 minutes.

The first gestures (2 minutes)

Because I didn't have anyone to pose for me, I stole pictures off of the internet to copy, taking the more interesting poses. The above gestures are from a series of prom pics.

After a bunch of 2-3 minute gestures, I tried 6 minutes, adding more colors and tones:

This was the first 6 minute gesture I did.

The above actually was from a picture of myself!

And finally, after I'd gotten down the 6 minute gestures, I did one 10 minute gesture:

Since the letter was to Jake, I decided to do a gesture of him using his graduation picture. I love the way it turned out. I hate doing the face because I feel like I always mess up the eyes by outlining them, but this one turned out okay. It gives the impression of it without me having to do anything!

There are many flaws, as these are just the first ones I've done. I look at them and see this line is too long, those lines should have connected sooner, there's too much white space (Especially in my first 2-3 minute gestures) But not bad for my first attempt on my own. I'm pretty pleased with the results! And now, of course, I really want a set of nice watercolors. For now, I'll settle for the cheap ones, since that's what I have.

Poetry Slammin'

 For those of you who do not know, Spoken Word Poetry is probably my latest and greatest....obsession. (I need a better word for these things.) ...Latest and greatest hobby. And it is really just poetry that is written to be performed. (Meaning, it is often more dramatic in nature.) Then, there are competitions called "Slams" in which poets perform their poetry amidst much applause, cheering, and audience judges. Rules include: the poem must be original, 3 minute time limit, and prohibition of props. Other than that, there are virtually no limitations on the poem's content, style, form, or tempo. It's pretty cool stuff.

My friends Kristin and Sabina introduced it to me earlier this semester, and I fell in love with it. I looked up poets on YouTube and started crafting my own and practiced my poems in front of a camera or my family or the old folks at Hundred Palms and the homeschool group...

Well, last night, I competed at a poetry slam for the FIRST TIME EVER!!!!! It was so exciting! I'm still replaying all the poems that were performed, in my head. Kristin and Sabina were out of town so I invited Melissa and Nicole, but they bailed on me last minute. And I thought, "you know what? I've been trying to go to one of these things since February and I'm going! Friends or not!" So that's exactly what I did. I went by myself. O_o 

The first ten minutes were the scariest. I was alone. I'd arrived early and the student committee was still talking. Those not in it, were mingling with one another--in a circle. It was a closed group to me. I sat by myself. I started to question whether or not I should've come. But after the committee finished, a couple girls- Megan and Kay introduced themselves to me and everything was brighter from there. 

I was there for a workshop and we talked about community. How we bring something to every community we enter and it is up to us to decide what we are going to bring. And we talked about TYPS as a community; what were we bringing to the TYPS community today? Then we did an exercise, answering questions and passing a long rope to one another. There were only four questions, but they brought us together in a way that I have never seen before.. We talked about our siblings, what poetry means, someone we've lost, and someone who makes us laugh. The third question in particular was profound. In sharing our pain, we were brought closer together. It was awesome! At the end of the questions, the rope had criss-crossed the circle, creating a web of connections. We talked about how it's those connections that make up a community. 

Then we did a free write on community and hung out. A few people practiced their poetry, asking one another for feedback. (this is about the time that I began to second guess the quality of my poetry, but I'd already signed up to compete.) I mingled and talked to a lot of people. They were friendly...and comfortable with each other. They were really touchy feely (not in a sexual way, but they just touched each other a lot. A lot more than homeschoolers do.)- which is something I've had little exposure to.

When the competition began, that's when the nerves sunk in. My stomach was doing backflips. I was fifth. I drank water like it was going out of style. But when I got up to the mike, I just performed. It was just me and my voice, and that's all that mattered. I performed, "Are You Happy Now?" first, and the poets were snapping almost the whole time. I watched the video of myself performing and I realize I could've paused more, but I was getting into it. Everyone cheered so loudly afterward. They all said it was great. Poets I deeply respect as better than me said it was really good. My new friend Meghan said she didn't cry a lot, but that almost made her cry. That it described her life exactly. Strangers in the audience- people I didn't even know told me it was beautiful. I was stunned. I scored really high as well. An 8, three 9's and a 10. I was so surprised and grateful for everyone's words. It was very validating.

The poem in particular (which is the one in the video above) is not a poem specifically about me. But it echoes my struggles with food over the recent months. The first time I performed this poem, was at Hundred Palms and it was difficult because my family and friends were there. I have put significant pieces of myself into this poem and it can be scary to lay yourself vulnerable before others. (Which is probably the reason why I chickened out and performed a different poem for CHET-SE's talent show in March) But it is a poem that is dear to my heart.

I ended up going to round two, in which I performed the train poem. It didn't score quite as high as the first, and it wasn't enough to get into the final round, but it was so satisfying to perform, I didn't even care. Except now, I have an impossible reputation to keep up. >.< They all said it was good the second time too, though their enthusiasm might've been a little less. I heard Meghan whisper a sweet low, "Darn." when they announced I hadn't made the top three. But I was too happy to worry about it. The other poets were outstanding; it was just as magical as watching videoes, only this time, I got to be part of it.

Afterwards, they had a rap battle in front of the cafe. It was so epic. Juanye was beatboxing, insults were flying, and teenagers cheering saying, "ohhhh!" with every great burn. It was cool. It almost made me wish I could freestyle rap. (almost!) When I got home, I just felt so...overstimulated, I guess. I needed to decompress, but not in a bad way. I just wanted to think. And I did. I couldn't stop thinking. *sigh* it was the most wonderful type of exhaustion I've ever felt. I felt encouraged, invigorated, inspired! It was such an amazing opportunity and I'm glad I didn't let my fear of being alone keep me from going. I realize now, that if I had gone with friends, I probably wouldn't have branched out to as many people.

I am so glad I took advantage of the opportunity to enter this community and be part of their family and I promised I would be back. It felt so amazing to just be accepted without having to prove myself,  (I think I did prove myself with my first poem.)  and I'll be working on some new poems for the next slam!