Roar Poets Tour - Diary 1 - Armidale

Armidale is cold. I forgot all about that. After living there for a few years I'd forgotten that the beautiful rolling hills and rocks sit beneath a layer of frost so sharp when you speak the air slices your tongue.
But we got there... with our multi-layered pants and jumpers and socks...

There's no-one in Armidale you know? Unless you count the uni. But I'm not even sure if the uni counts itself as part of Armidale. I know when I was a student there we could exist pretty well without any form of town contact... that's either good or bad depending on how hungry you are/n't or how stoned you are/n't.

But I programmed the tour to included Armidale for one reason: it's the beginning of things.

It was in Armidale I really learnt to rap, to write, to produce... and to make friends.

So here I was again, after all these years, showing my art to the people who had supported me from the beginning.
Sure, it wasn't ME they were supporting. It was their sons and friends who I happened to be in a band with. But I took what I could and still ran with it. It still mattered.

SO...
We arrived in Armidale to find that only a few of the flyers had been handed out, the radio station wouldn't get back to us, and the community group we'd been in contact with for months, desperately trying to get any form of workshops or community connections, were STILL not taking us seriously, or just not... I dunno...
what do you call it when people don't get back to you and then give you backhanded support at the last minute?...
On top of that we'd been told the place would've emptied out for school holidays...
It was fucking frustrating and a bit like being punched in the guts.

So when people showed up to the gig. When a room full of people watched and listened intently. When a table actually said they were here for poetry... Well suffice to say I was pretty happy. When the people who had been there to support their family and friends said "wow, it's great to see what you've been up to all these years, fantastic", I felt like I still mattered. Which is a nice feeling. And to be perfectly down and depressingly honest probably the first time I've felt that this year.

And BrokenWord were fantastic. It was them that most people were there to see, and they did not disappoint. What was amazing was that Martin Ingle and Angela Willock kept people in the room after the BrokenWord boys had done their thing. The strength and raw honesty of their performances kept people gripped. The 90% of the room who weren't there for poetry were all of a sudden deeply invested in the poetry. The bar... the fucking bar where everyone milled and talked and yelled drunkedly fell silent on more than one occasion in all of our sets.

And being the organiser and facilitator of the event I was worried we wouldn't be able to make any money to pay the venue hire or even ourselves... but we did. Yes we lost money still. Fuel and food dents finances dramatically but hey... whatever... we got at least one free meal out of it...  and the venue hire. And we were all pretty clear from the beginning that this would not be a money making venture... it would be gypsy survival. It would be rolling with the punches and making the most of it. It would be: Happiness = people + fires + conversations.
Which we had plenty of on Saturday night after the "slab" gig...

So now on to Nimbin. The Oasis Cafe. 7pm Thursday night 20 June.
The Roar Poets Tour is alive. It's a thing now. Not just a few words online or a FB event.
And we're excited and enjoying the taste so far.
Sure Armidale was cold. But if the rest of the shows end up being half as warm-hearted as Armidale then I think we'll be pretty happy.

Shows n shows n shows

I've been very lucky to be so busy lately. With two shows at Anywhere Theatre Festival and a whirlwind romance with Canberra's Badslamnobiscuit, it has been a hectic few weeks. Mental and physical health has taken a dive to make room for rehearsals and technical rehearsals and dress rehearsals and flying away and flying home.

I am usually the first one to have a big cry about doing this stuff alone, how poetry can be a solo exhibition of the soul, and how it is very hard to collaborate, find helpers, get people enthusiastic about projects etc.

But these past few weeks have taught me how people can rise to an occasion.

Personally my show MaXimal was an incredible success. It showed me that I can do an hour show, something which will (hopefully) lead to festival shows, touring and international spotlights (?). I got my first ever review (as being in performance poetry world does not lend itself to reviews very much, other than your friends posting something positive on fb).
Not only that, but my friends from BrokenWord supplied me with lights, mics and sound. Angela Willock and Eleanor Jackson helped me with the door as well as gave me a lot of love and support, and Doubting Thomas funded the project, as well as leant mental support for my withering nerves and frayed brain. Bonus points go to Olivia Pushong who somehow conjured chairs when the venue couldn't supply me with theirs as they would be closed when the show went on.
So I had a moment in time where people gathered, supported and said "dude, what do ya want? Coz we can help".
I was humbled and amazed to have the energy of those people to draw from when I thought I would be lost.

I guess now the questions of comedy circuits and different avenues of marketing remain in that there is only so many people in the poetry community, and only so many ways a show that was actually comedy, but billed as poetry, can pull an audience. So if you see me starting to put "comedy" as my main thing, it's because I'm figuring out how to get audiences, build crowds, and generally build my rep as an entertainer, more than a poet. Which I think is fair considering I'm always at the least trying to be entertaining.

Then I got to work collaboratively with the wonderful poet, and also my gf, Angela for Mixtape. It may be relationship suicide to do such a thing, and not something that always works - no matter how much you care for someone collaborating on a project does not always translate the same as collaborating in hearts. However this project has been a great amount of fun and also taught me a lot about how poets work, the courage to scrap ideas and go for the bits that really shine, and also the ability to communicate and give support. Not stuff I'm good at at the best of times.
We performed for the first time together last night, and I gotta say, it was fucking excellent. Another review. And once again, it was shiny and great. Proving that working hard on a show and knowing what REALLY WORKS is vital to editing and devising a performance. It's a different show than MaXimal, quieter and less of a showcase of word-skills, more of a personal inspection and introspective view of what happens in love, music and relationships. It's a project, a concept album, a connecting point for us both to explore and work.

We have one more show tonight, and then Jam Jar Poetry Slam kicks into fundraiser mode for the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup on Sunday at 3pm.

I would say I have some time off after this, but I don't, I'm doing workshops for Ipswich Poetry Feast all next week with primary school students. 

My cousin is a workaholic, something I never thought I would be, and he always used to say "I'll sleep when I'm dead..."

Probably not the most healthy way of doing things, but fuckit.

I'll sleep when I'm dead.

If you came to my shows, thanks, if you saw me in Canberra, thanks, if you're coming to Mixtape tonight, thanks, if you're coming to Jam Jar on Sunday, thanks.