Empowered By The Goddesses

Last night can’t be undone.

Magic happened to this scraping-by artist. Months of anxious planning and preparation, interrupted by life and health events, and here it was: my poetry exhibit. Performed beautifully by goddesses of their own caliber, embodying influential archetypes much needed in this post-election week. We gathered to share, we’re not scared. When challenged we have the greatest weapon – our divine sisterhood.

I hand picked artists of diverse creative influences with one common thread: a genuine respect for the power of goddess energy. Allowing them the freedom to choose their artistic interpretation made the project a communal experience. Everyone provided me input as to how they envisioned their deity within the story, based on the loose script I had provided. By the time I met with each woman, got to know her at her craft and on a personal level, and scripted her part, I had the complete story. Using a community-oriented approach to playwriting was a great experience.

And then, showtime. I was not nervous at all. My faith was so strong in these actors I knew I had nothing to worry about. Healthwise, my body had reacted well to new medication, so I didn’t have to concern myself with erratic movement or confusion. Mind, body and soul clear, I took to the stage like I take to my bed at night; cozily and comfortably! You know what? I felt redeemed. After a shitty Wednesday morning feeling tense and scared about my future, I have this moment of success that can’t be taken away. I achieved this, in America, as a disabled person, as a woman of color. ¬†It took incredible fortitude to get here, and I championed that. I’ve arrived at the station I’m meant to visit.

My art has elevated my mood once again. I’m wrapped in the embrace of creativity, considering how to replicate the show for a wider audience. Or, shall I write another performance poetry exhibit? I love mashing music and poetry together, maybe a joint exhibit with live musicians, like how we incorporated a drummer into Pomba Gira’s performance? Wait, wait…let’s bask in the glow of success that was last night. We can do all of that battle planning later, Inanna ūüėČ

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Me dressed as the warrior goddess Inanna
The Show:
 

Last night, the beautiful high priestess Enheduanna, troubled by her Moon Temple followers, found relief in the love, compassion, and commitment of her beloved goddesses. First, Persephone, Maiden of the Underworld, arrived as soon as Enheduanna begged for Death. She brought forward the Matron of the Crossroads, Pomba Gira, who offered the high priestess quite a wake-up call! Upon Pomba Gira’s departure, the Bringer of Light, Brigid, softly stepped into the high priestess’ chamber and blessed it with a light-welcoming poem.¬†

 
She brought forward Hecate, Great Crone, to call the powers of the four directions to Enheduanna. Her poetry reminds us of her all-knowing power. Relieved, Enheduanna takes a moment to relax, but is quickly interrupted by the powerful Kali, Governess of Time. The intimidating mother reminds the high priestess of her natural divinity and urges her to use it. Glamoured into a sleep state, the goddess Ix Chel visits Enheduanna’s dream. Her poem forecasts necessary change from disillusionment.¬†
 
When Enheduanna wakes, she is reverent, washed over in love and appreciation. To enhance those wonderful feelings, Yemoya emerges from the water to the high priestess, and they share a dance of divine feminine love. Finally, Enheduanna is entreated to the presence of her personal goddess, Inanna, who shares knowledge of the high priestess’ own written words. Inanna passes on her pure lance to the worthy high priestess, then sends her back to the moon ceremony with a poem of spiritual encouragement.

 

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A Creative Place

Here we are, the first week of November. It’s still in the 80s here in Florida, with a tease of a cold front moving in this weekend. The Living Goddess Exhibit is turning into an exquisite piece of art, thanks to the collaborative effort of all artists involved. I’m really proud of this event, and proud of myself for sticking to it, as I was challenged by a medicine change a few weeks back.

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Check out the curls! Hanging out at The Complete Sweet Shoppe on a lovely Friday afternoon

It is quite a challenge to stay in an artistic flow when you’re experiencing every drug-related side effect indicated. I’m sensitive that way, didn’t realize how much until this recent run through. But I fought through, head butting through the collapses and the shakes and the confusion. I fixed my face and attitude so that I can have successful interactions with those involved in the exhibit. I continue to be nervous, more for the closeness of the performance date than the side effects.

What I’m most appreciative of is the quality of support I’ve received from my inner circle, growing greater as I venture out artistically. Sometimes I just need to curl into a ball on a friend’s couch for a few minutes, just to get aligned, grounded. Then I burst back into creativity, going through the logistics of the show, or working on the details of my props. It feels good to be genuinely nurtured through the process.

The show hasn’t commenced yet but I’m already thinking about after the fact. Where are my energies going to be directed? What is my focus for the next few months? Earlier in October I ventured out into a project that I realized was bigger than I can handle, and it left me in a depressive state, realizing my limitations. But I’m a try-er, and I can at least pride myself in giving it a go. That’s the artist life. Some things stick, some things slide through. I’ve gotten over the discouragement.

My hope is that the Living Goddess Exhibit goes without a hitch. I’ve got wonderful artists involved, full of positivity and talent, so there’s no denying things are gonna work out. Afterwards, I’ll allow myself a little break so that I can healthfully pursue my next project.

That’s my check in. Have a wonderful weekend!

 

The Living Goddess Exhibit

It’s here! The magic of goddess energy comes to life November 11th in the lovely city of Gulfport. Come see Persephone, Pomba Gira, Brigid, Hecate, Kali, Ix Chel, and Inanna amuse the crowd with their vivacity! $6 at the door. Exhibit begins at 8pm.

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It’s Dress Up Time!

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Source: deviantart

Busy, busy, like a queen honeybee, pumping out ideas, designs, and information with little breaks in between to breathe. Ask for help will I? Why? Everything’s under control, yep…everything is errythang.

Whew. Who am I kidding??

These last two years, I had been producing works for publication and sale. After joining the band, I was compelled back into performance art. So, getting my Vaclav Havel on, I’ve designed an exhibit of empowered, proactive women sharing words of wisdom in the form of goddesses. Fun, right? The exhibit came from a place of concern, that pit in the gut where you feel something needs to be expressed, something especially important for humankind. This is what Art does for us, yes? Get those expressions out into the open.

I wanted to express my disappointment in humanity, specifically, in the way women refuse to support each other when it comes to social cues and laws defining our roles in society. But I didn’t want to be a nag about it either. Instead, I took a comic view. What is it that women typically deal with that we can all agree we deserve a break from? And so, I’ve developed The Living Goddess Exhibit.

The girls are here to tell it like it is.

Me, I’m going to perform as Inanna, my all-time favorite deity. I’ve blogged about her too many times to not support my obsession. Inanna is perfect! If I lived in the time of her worship, I would be her best high priestess. Why? She does what I do all the time: explore people’s dualities. I *love* to exploit either-or people (in a gentle way) in order to get them to see the world’s challenges as not which team one prefers but rather, what the global community could embrace if they considered both options. It’s easy to follow the herd, but ultimately, someone needs to shepherd. Inanna is that deity.

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Inanna, Goddess of Love and War

More details on the exhibit to come, but know this: I am in a place of deep creativity and also of calm. Things are moving at tornado speed around me but the inner cone is silent. I’m glad I’ve gotten to a point in life where I can manage the outer and inner worlds as a whole. Wish me luck in these next coming weeks!

 

 

My Upcoming Gig

Be proud of me. This is my 1st event flyer of 2016, and it’s August. This represents a huge sigh of relief. A difficult start I had this year, but I’m proud I was able to recover within the 12 months. It’s the Ishtar in me, I suppose. Can’t keep a woman down too long!

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And so here’s my new project, Spoken Works. Why Spoken Works? ¬†Written words are the definition of a generation’s experience. In my experience, too many well-written words by exceptionally talented artists remain unshared because of personal barriers: shyness, terror of public speaking, fear of judgment. Knowing that, I asked myself, “What can be done to avert those challenges?” Then I asked, “What helped me?”

Group sharing in my Creative Writing courses. Discourse amongst colleagues in closed environments. Finding the right tribe, and sticking to them, because I can trust them. Those experiences helped me. When I had a home base for my sharing, I was not inhibited anymore.

This workshop program is part of my POP Pinellas venture, a grass-roots poet outreach program. To poet and to be a poet, to me, is one in the same. Just as people use “their” as a gender-neutral derivation, I use “poet” as a title-neutral derivation for those who write their truth down. Makes sense right? Instead of listing, oh I’m a poet, author, lyricist, short story writer, blahblahblah. I’m a poet.¬†

And this wasn’t my original idea. From James Baldwin’s 1963 speech, “The Artist’s Struggle for Integrity”:

However arrogant this may sound, I want to suggest two propositions. The first one is that the poets (by which I mean all artists) are finally the only people who know the truth about us. Soldiers don’t. Statesmen don’t. Priests don’t. Union leaders don’t. Only poets. That’s my first proposition.

Which, heads up, a review of James Baldwin is gonna be my next blog post because I’m absorbing his words right now. If you want to book club it, I just started “The Cross of Redemption” and am still reading through the speeches.

Questions? Comments? You know how to reach me. And check out POPPinellas.com when you have a moment. I haven’t officially launched it yet, but it’ll eventually be where I post about Spoken Works and other local projects.

Smoochies!

 

 

 

 

 

All About That Crown

Been riding quite the wave this week. Got my spoken word workshop green-lighted, received positive responses from exhibit participants, and I’ve even lined up some local celebs to bring flair to my projects! Man, am I a lucky girl. Thanks for delivering, Universe.

On Thursday, my arty cohort and I traversed the local Joann Fabrics and Michaels stores. I needed to brainstorm. ¬†As per usual, I’m taking the most complicated route to satisfy a very simple project; in this case, trying to get my goddess apparel together for my November exhibit.

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The crown I plan to replicate.

Still going with the Queen Puabi crown of course. As we perused row after row of notions and beadings and sheets of both paper and cloth, I realized yup! I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

Here’s sketches of what I’ve designed. Found the “easy” dress pattern and some bamboo cross-stitch hoops to make a crown base. The key is to make the head gear as light as possible.

The dress? A yummy purple floor-length number with an empire waist. It’s not so much the cloth adornment as is the emphasis on jewelry. This is an elaborate crown, indeed, and so to compliment it, I’ve pulled down accents to the arms. As you’ll see there’s little anise-shaped stars that go along the crown which I’ll also make an armband of. And that elaborate strip of gold foil? I’ll have that carried down the other arm. ¬†At least this is what my ambition is coming up with; hopefully we’ll exceed expectations!

 

Olympic Inspiration

As the Parade of Nations at the Olympics passed onscreen, I couldn’t take my eyes off of a certain African athlete dancing along with the stadium samba music. Djibouti’s small yet excited delegation entered in matching¬†clothing, but the dancer added¬†beautiful jewelry across her face! Found what it was, a version of this ceremonial headdress.

INSPIRATION.

I think my goddess might like to wear this…

Spirit and Goddesses and Queens, Oh My!

August = productive so far, and delighted to report it’s a very positive experience! So far, I’ve drummed up interest on my two projects, and it looks like we are totally greenlit for The Living Goddess Exhibit. What is that, you wonder? Word will be out soon on the details, but if you have been following my previous cosmic-based posts, this was in the works for a while.

Currently I’m in design phase: how I want my exhibit to look, how I want the performers to appear, and most importantly, how am I presenting myself? Since the preferred date of the event falls after Halloween, I got the idea to costume the event (and the idea for you the attendee to dress up as well).

Immediately I went to my sketch book and freeformed how I imagined the engagement to appear if it had to be described entirely in drawing. Tendrils swoop the hands and crown of the Oracle I had drawn. Yes, this is going to be a very interactive, connected event. If you don’t leave feeling spiritually charged, then I didn’t do a good job!

Inspiration for the goddesses come from Queen Puabi¬†the Sumerian ruler of Ur, whose crown and jewelry can be found on display in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania at the Penn Museum. I’m considering re-creating this crown for the event. It is quite intricate, but I love a challenge!

 

On Self-Deprecation

 

I am in a mood.

I’m gonna compose some letters. Not going to mail them, just let the words flow cathartic. I’ll print them on lovely stationary, then burn them, after I cross and cover names.

Yep. I’m in that kind of mood.

I’ll start my drafts here for your amusement. To accompany, a few of Dali’s beautiful heliogravures from his 1969 Alice in Wonderland series. Enjoy!

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Down The Rabbit Hole, 1969

Dear Person Who Self-Deprecates When Attention Is Drawn To You:

Hi. I’m noticing what you’re doing and it’s annoying the hell out of me. First of all, you look old enough to be my mother, and that’s not an insult, that’s a demographic detail. Second of all, we’re in the same room together, about to face the same challenges. While I sit here in tune to what’s happening, you’re sitting behind me, disturbing the persons to your left and right, saying, “I hope [he] knows how stupid I am” and “They better have someone who knows what they’re doing with me.” Do you even understand that what you’re doing is completely self-absorbed? Your pretend self-flagellation is actually a form of grandstanding that you probably inherited from a lifetime of leeching off of the kindness and patience of others. Shut the fuck up you stupid leech; you’re here to do a job. If you feel you can’t handle it, there’s the door. We’ve got this covered.

Love,

The Chick Wondering How You And She Are The Same Pay Grade

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Advice From a Caterpillar, 1969

Dear Person Who Self-Deprecates As A Form Of Emceeing:

Hi. You’re not a comic. If you were a comic, and this was a comedic venue, you’d so not be making me laugh. Self-deprecation is a source of humor only when you realize the joke is supposed to be on you. But if your job is to warm up the mic, try not to spend those moments between performers – who may be nervous or amped or prepared – to talk about how much of a talentless waste-of-space you are. When you do that, you diminish the starlight of the talent approaching the microphone after your sad tale. It’s like watching someone murder a puppy between sets: not only is it senseless, but it doesn’t fit the grand ideal of uplifting artists and showcasing their artistry. Get it together, or get another project.

Love,

The Chick Waiting For Her Turn On The Stage

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Mad Tea Party, 1969

Dear Person Who Self-Deprecates In Order To Get My Personal Attention:

Hi. You done fucked up. I don’t do pity. I don’t do the pat on the backs and “there, there” acts. You’re phony and I smelled your phony the moment I saw your pinched shoulders and wavering eyes. You want to absorb my energy, I see it in your wringing hands. Are you actually telling me about your life problems without me even knowing you? Who am I, Barbara Walters? And don’t you DARE call me Oprah, or you will know my wrath. Get away. Grow up. Instead of coming to me about what you’re going to do, come to me about what you’ve already done, maybe then I can at least advise you. But your self-inflicted humility is not my charge, buddy. You’re an adult now. And if you’re an adult using lines like, “I can’t deal with adulting,” stay the hell away from me. I’ve got a life; get yours.

Love,

<this space left intentionally blank>

ūüôā

 

 

 

Coming Down The Mountain

Gilded tendrils

through wooden slats

summon a new

Appalachian day.

I tumble, tumble

giddy under feathery darkness

my morning dreams

launch me into flight…

So begins one of the poems I created in that beautiful cabin nestled under ancient wood. The experience of connecting with nature at a primordial level is a powerful thing. My body – how best to describe this? – absorbed unfamiliar yet friendly energies. Vibrations were exceptionally high in the hills, and my connectivity to animals seemed heightened. To explore it neurologically, I would say my pineal gland received a profound tuning.

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Goddess Mode (c2013)

My sweet would nourish sleeping in as I would roam the deck of the cabin with my morning coffee. Then I’d go to the dining room, my designated office, and churn whatever creative forces into a precious morsel of art. Silence was a gift as well as a motivator. I needed the time between sips to really think what I wanted out of life. I’m ready to approach 40, but what am I to invest in as a human being for the next 40 years?

The answers seem to pop off Chappie the laptop’s screen, as if a big DUH! Time to showcase what you can do for others, Ivonne. Time to grow into the artistic community as a director, not just a contributor.¬†

While in the cabin, I started to lay down the plans for a project I’m calling The Living Goddess Exhibit. Of course I’m going to represent Inanna (who could do better?) but exactly how are we going to praise her? What existing poems do I have that evoke her? What poems can I write in tribute to her? Suddenly in study mode again, I feel that excitement surge in me again, the excitement to share. I’m invested in my inner child, I’m letting her play! Gosh it feels good.

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2015 on the New River. This year, The New River encourages me to grow.

Even when we moved to the Cousin’s place, I was still in composition mode. Three large dogs make it difficult to keep expensive equipment out, but I did capture some creativity on my mobile devices. Here’s one that insisted on being written mid-sleep:

Columbia
Great leader
her torch knows no master
Balance is her charge
the Law as her guide
Love her as I do
Her power is needed
now more than ever.

So interesting that I’d reference the Law Goddess in my sleep state. This’ll be a poem worth developing, especially during election season!

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Ready to hit the stage! c2014

Look forward to two productions from me, one in November and one possibly January. If you can’t make the shows, there’s always my performances with The Second Time Arounders Marching Band during the 2017 season.