Lady Baldwin

So the semester is winding down, and I have a lot to put up here. I've been waiting to get some good video content to post (along with permissions and other assorted fun things).

What do you think about this? Everyone in the New Media Class has already seen it, but I wanted to put it out there for anyone else.

Not gonna lie, I liked this project. Even though it took me well over 30 hours to produce. I think this goes in a similar direction as the video by Billy Collins, but it kind of takes a different spin. Collins is talking about depicting the poem itself in a video format. What I've done here is discussed the poem and highlighted it with video. The video is entirely about the poem, but it doesn't necessarily represent it in the same aspect that Collins was talking about.

Either way, I thought this was a very effective way to say what I wanted to say about my poem. The one downfall is length. As everyone knows, no one is going to sit through a very long video unless it's incredibly interesting. I really wanted to talk more about the piano and even take a little longer with the poem, but because of time constraints (and our quickly disintegrating attention spans) there's just no way.

Let me know what you think about it though! I'm pretty proud of it myself. *dusts off shoulders*

First Videos!

These are the first videos released by the Boxcar Voices group! I'm extremely proud of these for several reasons. For one, this group has been around over a year, and these were taken at our anniversary. Two, the people in the videos are my friends who I cherish and support in any and every way I can -- in any creative or personal endeavors. Three, now you can know what we do at our events!

Notice the lack of bongos, cigarette smoke, turtle necks, and berets. I'll be damned if you find any of those things. It's honestly just a group of normal people who get up and present their work in an open forum. It's meant to be accommodating. There's no competition and no expectation of anyone to present "great" poetry. Who wants that anyway? Give me the raw and unformed, the young and the brazen. I want creative truth at its purest with no filter or censor put there by any conception of what is told to be right. That, to me, is "great" poetry. 

Without further ado, Cara Depew.

I really like this poem by Cara because it's short, sweet, and says exactly what it needs to say to convey a sense of longing and memory. It's also open-ended. Everyone has lost a loved one at some point, so there's a tie between her and her audience, but she makes it specific to her own fond memories.

I'll take this time to say that Boxcar Voices owns no rights to these poems. The pieces are solely the author's. We only own the rights to the videos, which were all taken and edited by myself. Concerning this blog, they are merely topics for conversation (and for school work). They will be published on our website in the near future. If you take or repost this video, I doubt any legal action can be taken... just don't do it, man. It's not cool. 

So, disclaimers aside, here's James Thigpen reading one. One of James' pieces was selected for first place in poetry by Lights & Shadows art and literary magazine in 2011. This isn't that piece, but it's damn good anyway.

James once told me that he wants to write like Robert Frost. I feel like his poem is dripping with something Frost would like. This was actually James' first time reading at Boxcar Voices. Could you tell? I couldn't.

So there's a little glimpse into what Boxcar Voices is. As I said, these and more will be posted on our website. We're starting to take off, and the coming months will be an attempt to brand ourselves and get our name out there further. Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what ideas for improvement you might have, or anything else that's on your mind. 

Status pending...

So the videos are taking longer than I anticipated. I have a few of them finished, but I don't want to upload them without various permissions and what not. So here is another video that I found extremely interesting.

I've gotta say that I love this video. First off, it's Billy Collins. Second, he is employing what we're talking about in New Media, except it's a lot newer and much more professional. He is taking his poems and turning them into active visual art that illustrates the content of the poem while making statements on its own.

I have to say, some of the videos distracted me from the poems. I think this is a risk that is run when adding visual stimulus to something that's text-heavy. If the stimulus is more attractive or arresting than the words, it becomes very easy to be distracted. Other ones however, like the mouse poem, really bring it to life. I wouldn't have seen the multitude of mice worshipping the fire-starter. I thought the video really added a lot to that that made it funny and brilliant.

I really wonder if this is where poetry will need to go to some extent. I can see how people will get tired of reading poetry without having that visual stimulus. I don't feel like it will ever completely die out, but I feel like a redefinition will happen in my life time.

One Year Anniversary

So March marked one year of Boxcar Voices.

(Applause)

I have to say that we had one of the best shows we've ever had. If you missed it, guess what? We've got it on video! I'm working on the editing right now, and hopefully I'll have it up before the end of the week.

Like I said, it was one of the best shows ever. We had a lot of people read who had never read before -- some had never even been to one of our events. There was a huge variety of forms too. There were stories, poetry, drama, and even a little multimodal thing involving headphones placed on the microphone. Cool stuff.

I feel like now should be the time when I wax poetic about what I've learned over the year of running this group... and maybe I will a little bit. But I really don't want to overkill it. I'll revert back to my first post about how everyone has an inherent desire to tell stories, be them their own or another's. I think that gets repressed a lot in this day and age, or at least shrunk down to a Facebook status or a Tweet. The true act of storytelling and oration and poetry seems to be getting lost with short attention spans and societal demands.

But the fact that this has been going on a year gives me hope. Yes, I know that there are plenty of storytelling/poetry/slam groups, and that the art isn't dying as much as I describe. However, the fact that ANYTHING related to poetry can catch on in this area is very inspiring to me. Growing up here, I wouldn't think that something as dismissible as poetry would ever gain any foothold. I hope this group continues to grow and constantly keep poetry and storytelling in the general consciousness.

We'll be doing a workshop this week, along with another event. Stay posted for the videos. Some of them will be up sometime this week!

Success!

So we just had another Boxcar Voices event last night. 


It was amazing.


We had around 50-60 people there, which is amazing for a regular event with no theme. Normally people have to tell sex stories to attract a crowd that big. But it wasn't just the crowd that got me excited: we had a bunch of new readers. 


It was great watching all of these new people break out of their comfort zones and throw their feelings and beings out from the stage into the hungry all-devouring crowd. That may be misleading. The crowd was pretty quiet yet wonderfully responsive. Regardless, it was obvious when someone was reading for the first time. There was sweat on shaking palms, nervous laughter from both the reader and the crowd, chopped rhythm in phrases, and many "uhhs." Of course, not everyone was like this, and I don't want it to seem like it's a bad thing. Even after a year of putting this show on, I'm still the same way. Me and Mr. Daniels hang out to help calm the nerves. Talk about therapy.


Really though. This was, in my opinion, one of best shows we've ever had. There were sad stories, religious poems, a guy crawling around on the stage and floor and knocking over podiums,  and even poems about killing your entire family (hilarious and poignant, by the way). I feel incredibly privaledged to have experienced the phenomenon of this event, because we've had on had a few that exude this sort of passion. 


One thing that really struck home with me about this show is that anything can be poetry. Billy Collins has a poem that he reads to his students in basic-level poetry and writing courses. He prefaces a reading I have somewhere by saying that everything can be poetry and using an example of a guy who wrote a book of poetry about garbage. With nights like the one we just had, it's amazing what kind of "poetry" there actually is. I think we get caught up in meter and rhythm and the perceived "deepness" that poetry is "supposed" to have and we don't think that literally everything we do day in and day out is poetry. All we have to do is write about it.


I hope that I'll be able to post some video of it soon. There were some audio complications, but it may be salvageable. 


I'd really like to post a poem I read last night. I'd really love to post other peoples' poems, but I don't have them yet. But anyway, since I don't have to ask your permission, I'm going to post a poem. Give me your feedback. Let me know what you think. I hope it hits a chord or two. I wrote this on the Staten Island ferry, right before it docked into Manhattan, after watching a guy with headphones get up and dance. It's definitely meant to be performed.

Eight Million Stories 

Man,

It must be easy to be Yourself

in a city with so many

Selves.

You can count your beats

out loud

cause your beats blend in with

      the sound

of 8 million otherfeet

Stompin their beats

Out Loud

And, man, it must be easy to be your

      own

in a city where you’re never

      alone

Where everyone has a home

      even if it is the street

            feeling all the vibrations from eight million

beats.

Man, you can even dance if you want to.

It sure must be easy to be in tune

      with so many people swaying

to their own croon.

Everyone moving to their own

      Jazz n’ hip hop n’ rock n’ roll

subway brakes screaming altissimo

      Shuckin along

Shaking up tempo

causin a crescendo of

all the other voices in the orchestra.

It sure must be easy to be you

      In a place where God isn’t

      always watching

      The Conductor

      not performing

His vision obscured by steel skyscraper guitars

      and harmonicas blown

from sunlight reflected glass windows

      and taxi cabs

            humming exhaust

Down here

in the exhaust

You’re the Conductor.

The Maestro won’t cast his eyes

      or ears

            on your sinful sounds.

And your beats are yours to pound

Man, just dance if you want to.    

"The bandwagon of my own uncertainty."

This has been a favorite video of mine for a few weeks now. I keep going back to it because it's hilarious and very poignant at the same time. Check it out:

This guy is Taylor Mali. He's an incredible slam poet and English teacher. This won't be the last time I post a video from him. His style is very conversational and easily accessible.

But it's not just his style that makes me love this poem. What he's talking about is the state of our generation's communication. He asks if we are "the most aggressively inarticulate generation since, ya know, a long time ago."

I feel this way with poetry sometimes -- in writing it, but also in talking about it. Sometimes when I write, I have trouble being honest. I hit around what I'm trying to say with all this metaphor and figurative language without ever actually addressing what it is I want to say. And in talking about poetry, I often find that I hide the fact that I write poetry. Or I talk vaguely about it, without ever really revealing that I love it.

Now that's not exactly what he is talking about here. He is talking more about day to day life and using language effectively... and not sounding ridiculous. But, as writers, his message is strong. What if we actually wrote the way we speak? Would someone who reads it actually know what we were talking about? Would they know that we knew what we were talking about? I'm not so sure.

"Like, operant conditioning, ya know?"

Sometimes it's hard to break those habits, but that is all it is. A habit. Social conditioning at it's best. As writers, we have to overcome those habits and speak, as Taylor says, with conviction. You often hear about your voice being heard. What good is your voice being heard if you aren't actually saying anything? And what if you're saying something, but you're saying it incorrectly or incoherently?

Taylor's poem really makes me think about my communication. I definitely fall in the "ya know?" trap in an effort to convey an idea. But what is it? Filler. Filler and the need for some sort of response in order for me to be secure in what I'm saying. If I need that much convincing, I probably shouldn't be saying it. There's a lyric: "Ain't it like most people? I'm no different. We love to talk on things we don't know about."

So there's some food for though. Let me know what you think about Taylor. I would love to see him perform, but I don't know if he tours often. I highly recommend his other stuff; he's incredibly talented.

A Public Forum

A public forum really is a scary place. 

I was thinking about this the other day. Earlier this week, The Boxcar Voices had our event scheduled for Thursday (two days ago) at a local coffee shop. The theme of our event was "Awkward Ever-Afters and Unhappy Endings." We did the same event last summer, and it was one of our biggest events. Juliann and myself designed the event so that people could share awkward love stories. 

Once the evening arrived, it quickly became awkward sex stories.

On the prowl...

I told one about an interesting interaction I had with a cougar (the social phenomenon, not the large cat... or maybe both). There were stories of revenant Subway sandwiches, barn yard shenanigans (not told from the first person), and something pertaining to trailer parks I can't quite remember. 

Needless to say, the content was more than questionable. It actually wasn't a question at all: it was hard fact. 

So I'm thinking about this three days out from the next event that's going to be held in a public coffee shop. See, the last event was held in a local underground theatre where, in the name of art, relatively anything goes. It's also a place where people don't just amble in for a cup of coffee and conversation. It didn't occur to me that the same material might be questionable in a place that was so open -- where the audience would be wider. Now I'm worried because

1. What if we piss off the owner of the coffee shop? Loss of venue, loss of credibility, and the show might get shut down mid-flow.

2. What if we piss off the wrong clientele? Loss of credibility. Bad publicity. Our event becomes seen as vulgar and obscene... which is okay, but I'd like to keep it classy for the most part.

3. Where the hell can I find another venue in 72 hours? There are 7 venues in Florence: three bars, a coffee shop, a record store, a theatre, and a library. Slim pickin's 

I called the owner and expressed my concern. He, obviously in best interest of his business and moral values, agreed that it might be a problem, and he just didn't feel comfortable with it. I'd like to make it very clear that I hold no contempt for his decision, and that I would have probably done the exact same thing given the town we are in. If this was Chicago or, hell, even Birmingham, I would expect it to be different.

I say the disclaimer to justify the tapestry of expletives I wove in my head as I hung-up the phone. So I called the theatre and the only day they could do it was Friday (last night), and I had to work.

Long story long, I had to miss the event that I was a part of.

This raises an interesting question about public space.

It's a scary thing to get up on stage and express yourself. Whether you are playing music, reading poetry, dancing, or acting, it's nerve-wracking throwing your entire being in front of people. They will either love you and applaud, hate it and applaud, scream in anger and disgust, or be very quiet. I think the last one is probably the worst.

And what about the audience? Should the audience be open and receptive? I think so. And I think that is very hard to find (especially in this area, but anywhere really). There are going to be those that sit through an entire show with arms crossed, leg bouncing, tongue nervously rubbing across chapped lips, eyes glancing around the room with a I can't believe he just said that. Did you hear that? Why are you laughing, that wasn't funny!

I don't think a writer should try to please an audience. I think one should write for an audience, but an audience is created by pleasing some and displeasing others. A lot of others.

I think it is vital that a stage should be had for people to be pleased and displeased. But more than that, I think the audience needs to be open. Not open and accepting. You shouldn't accept everything you come across. If it goes against who you are, by all means push it away. But at least be open to listening and understanding. Until then, no one has any right to judge.

I think it brings up more questions about free speech, but I'll get into those later on.