For the most recent meeting of the Women Bearing All poetry circle - we had a last minute change of meeting place, and ended up at a Carrow's on Shaw, between First and Cedar in Fresno, CA. It was not quite the intimate setting of a quiet tea house, as was our first meeting. Rather, there was a rowdy group of female basketball players from an out of town school, loudly whooping it up at a table close-by. I don't know if it was bravado to rev them up before a bit match, or if they had just beat our Fresno State team, but they were certainly in a good mood. Actually, the entire restaurant was in a lively mood.
Four women braved the crowd - to sit and try to be heard above the din - and belt out poems to one another in a booth in a back alcove . You should have seen us - we were a sight. Valerie, one of our poets that evening, had to take a phone call at one point and couldn't help but snickering at us from across the restaurant - the way we were sitting around in a very Middle America sort of place, not a hob-nobbing with the snobs sort of place, or a high-brow coffee joint, where a poetry gathering might be a common sight - but right in the middle of sprawling families, entire teams of ball-players, and grandpas and grandmas out for their chicken pot pie.
Right in the middle of all that, we found one another and shared our hearts, the way poets will, and discovered common ground, were moved to tears, moved to laughter, challenged to create more, create together, learn together, and meet again. We stayed up late, had more coffee than we should have, and a bigger dessert than normal, and when it was finally time to go, found ourselves journeying out to one another's cars, to see the visual art stowed away in the trunks of two of our poets. It felt very clandestine and underground. I can't wait to see those particular paintings again hanging in a show around town, and remember the first time I saw them - in a dark parking lot, in mid-December with fog swirling in, by street lamp, after a poet's gathering.
As for the poetry shared - I was, as always, mystified. We met Valerie, who teaches art, and paints, and recently moved to Fresno. We were delighted by her fairytale romance, and her search for ways to keep the writing alive in herself as it sparks a writing in her beloved. She shared the published writings of one of her teachers from a recent poetry workshop. Yet, when she shared her own, we were floored. She did something in the reading of one of her poems that was completely new to me - she had me read one line at a time starting from the top of the poem, while she read one line at a time from the bottom. We passed one another midway through, and carried on. It was breathtaking the way there was a stilted, pausing, reverence and heartbeat to the piece.
Francine made me laugh with her self-description of an artist in a household of artists - splatters of various mediums on floors, walls, and washing machines. The joy of creation in her house is ever present whether it be visual art, music or words on paper. She even described the joy of scientific experimentation with beakers, burners, charts and graphs and how one of the members of her family finds creative expression through teaching science. To me, this is the most beautiful sort of home, with moments of chaos, and chores that fall by the wayside, but bursting from the seams are people sharing their art and their exuberance.
Those of us from artistic families know that many creative people flourish as a direct result of pain and their attempts to cope with pain. Francine's family has had it's share of heartbreak, and out of it comes some heart-wrenching work. The poem that is with me still was about a drive to school through the fog, seeing a white hearse, and suddenly feeling what her sister must have felt in the brief moments of impact with a drunk driver that killed her. The imagery was haunting and beautiful, a memorial, an epilogue, a love letter, and tears spent on the side of the road.
Francine's daughter, Jennifer, completed our circle of poets. She is a self-proclaimed depressive poet, and gave us a choice of hearing depressing, depressing, more depressing or suicidal poems. We asked for Depressing-Light and were rewarded with some rich metaphor. Jennifer's work is raw, and by that I mean that it will bite back. She has a lot of talent, and as one of the youngest yet to participate, is in the enviable position to be able to learn the most, simply because she has lots of time in which to do so. She may also teach us the most. It will be exciting to see what the future holds for Jennifer. I think she has much to share, and many artistic endeavors to explore.
I shared some poems that will be in my upcoming show at the Rogue Festival in March 2007 - and was encouraged by the warm response. It is such a joy to read for other writers, to know that they are listening with their whole being, taking in the words and the feelings projected, savoring them, being fully aware of what went into getting them onto the page in the first place. What a treat to be at a table with other writers, to eat, to snack, and to share our hearts on paper. It is a glorious thing!
We came up with an assignment for anyone coming to the Gathering in January - which will be the Third Thursday in January - the 18th at 7:00 p.m. at the Denny's at First and Shaw in Fresno. The assignment is to write a poem with this title, "Vampires eat at Denny's" It was just one of those things that happened spontaneously. Jennifer said the line, and Valerie jumped on it and said, "Wouldn't that be a great title?" And there you have it - come prepared to share your version of this very deep subject.
Photo found at Morguefile.com by Mike at http://www.superpersonalized.com
Comments