Bak?

I don't know why I spelled the title differently. Maybe some unconscious need to question whether I really am back or whether I'm still stuck in my head. Maybe I'm trying to be really really really clever. Maybe I wish I was Baraka from Mortal Kombat and I'm pretty sure his nickname would be Bak. If I was Baraka I would want people to call me Bak like, "Hey, my friends call me Bak..."

That is if Bara- sorry... Bak has friends anyway...

I've been fucking depressed lately. The previous posts have eluded to it without me wanting to admit it to myself I think.

"Fuck this shit" was the main theme.

I guess it's important to remember that all this juggling has been for something, and I finally remembered that, at the Bellingen Poetry Slam last Saturday night in the Northern(ish) NSW hinterland.

Sometimes you need a win. In fact, being so unsure as to my purpose in all this mess of performing to (on average) 20 people and getting paid maybe a hundred bucks a month for poetry had left me a bit in-my-own-head.
So I finally realised why I do this shit.
Not for the win.
For the audience you fools.
The simple joy of performing to a great audience.

Do you know how beautiful it is to rock a crowd of 200+ people in a small town?
It's bliss.
To not have to deal with intense questions as to your purpose in this community? Why your ideals are wrong? How you could dare enter a slam, don't you have any ethics?
Gee it was nice to just perform for the joy of it.

Something I shouldn't forget.

And to be honest, something YOU shouldn't forget either.
Love your community of artists for what they bring.
The way we all play with creativity.
There is a lot to gain from everyone.

And hey, some people drive me nuts, of course they do I'm only human, but when I think about it, it's always been because of their conduct outside of the poems. Basically people being arse-holes are just... y'know, arse-holes...
Yet the poetry matters most.
I can't say I'm gonna support Ultimate Douchebag McDoodleDick.
But good on 'im for persevering.

There are a few great events coming up for Brisbane's Anywhere Theatre Festival in the Poetry section.

Like MaXimal!

Check em out. Support performers giving it their all in spaces not usually associated with performing.
Give em a great audience.

I've been lucky enough to be invited to Fringe India at the end of the year, so I will be getting my jets on and going back to the land of the sacred hindu cow to perform.

And mid-year I will be taking a small crew of Brisbane poets with me to Sydney, Canberra, Armidale, and possibly even Melbourne to showcase what Brisbane poets can do. Hopefully we'll get a great audience.

It's all just for the love of performing.
Honestly you cynical fucks.
Yeah we push shit up hill most of the time because poets are FUCKING CRAZY people with a lot of issues to sort out. Mental health central!!!! So you may not get a run some places, because in some places the poetry is less important than the egos and self-conscious personalities within.

But hey, we'll keep trying, and maybe we can remind others what it's all about:

The joy of being on stage with a great audience. That's all.

reverse culture shock

Starting to feel normal again after my trip and totally looking forward to JamJar Poetry Slam this Sunday.
I've managed to lock in someone who I haven't seen in a while Kaitlyn Plyley, who I met at the Aus National Poetry Slam finals a few years back and have seen at a QLD final as well but otherwise has been very quiet. So quiet that when she told me she was at last month's Jam Jar Poetry Slam hosted by Adam Hadley, I was stoked to know she was not only performing but living in Brisbane.

I've had a talk to some friends who made me realised there is such a thing as a "reverse culture shock" so to speak. Strange huh? But yesterday and today I have been feeling good. Still missing the monkeys. But otherwise loving the sound of kookaburras and magpies in the morning.
I am slowly but surely sifting through the poems from my trip and editing them.
I'm looking forward to heading down to Bellingen next weekend the 22 March for a few performances on the Friday as well as having another go at the slam title.
Although I'm quite cynical about slam, from running them for the nearly 2 years, as well as numerous comps, I still miss competing. So it's nice to head down to Bello every year and just have a bit of fun away from the city hype that comes from the ego fest here.

Here's another poem from my trip.

---------------------
Rooftop yoga, eagles
gotta eat,
swoop down,
swoop into the pose and
breathe out.
Your soul is from the
sun, body’s
gotta eat,
swoop up,
chin to knees and
swoop through god.
Baby meditation, eyes
gotta eat,
blind and off balance,
swoop through,
bend,
bend,
bend.
Swoop stars into your heart.
Now watch, can you do
lotus?
Practice,
practice,
practice.
Teacher’s
gotta eat.
Swoop through
the wallet,
swoop up and
breathe out.
------------------

Back to normal (?)

ultimate cool picture

I've been in India for the past month with a little stop over in Kuala Lumpur either side. There's been a bit of a reframing of the mind in light of massive adventures. I've been looking forward to coming back though, mainly because I'm excited about the next couple of months' worth of performances.
One of the most interesting developments in India, as far as my writing goes, was my incessant diary keeping in poetry form. I managed to write every day about everything possible. It's not something I usually do but was a great incentive to just keep writing. There's something that happens to your writing when you're not doing it for any reason other than yourself. The difference between writing for performance and just writing is huge. To not have that stress or pressure of needing it to be something to showcase is liberating and I think paved the way for some really nice, different work.

Ironically I am now planning on showcasing this collection within the next few weeks, I'll keep you posted on where this might be.

It's exciting to know that, while I've been away, the Queensland Poetry Festival committee has been deliberating over the applications for this year's festival. I can safely say it's looking to be a hugely diverse line-up for the weekend. QPF has really shown itself to be one of the most engaging and diverse festivals in Australia, showcasing poets from a variety of styles and really shining a light on the amazing poets in QLD, nationally and internationally.

I've also had the pleasure of getting two shows into the Anywhere Theatre Festival happening in mid May. MaXimal will be a solo venture and Mixtape is a collaboration between myself and my partner Angela. Both shows will be different and exciting. Crazy. Better get working huh?

For now, expect a funtimes JamJar Poetry Slam on March 17.

Here's a poem from my trip. Keep writing.

-------------------------

We bob up and down amidst
the crowd as if
buoys at sea.
Moving with the current of
silhouettes and limbs.
We find the stall with
the most people.
Bob up and down again,
waiting for food like
hungry seals.
I think I've got food poisoning.
The chicken was suspiciously
cool.
We analyse every movement
of our stomach.
Feel it
bob up and down.
A little message in a bottle.

---------------------------

Shooting At Shadows... for real this time...

Today, my last performance before jetting to India, is set to be something insane...
I'm looking forward to it so much.

Last time (also the first time) I performed Shooting At Shadows was at the Laura St Festival last year.

Since then I've completed a year of Zen Zen Zo training, and if you've read my previous blogs, know that I've also just completed Stomping Ground 2013.

Butoh training has given me a whole different way to interpret this piece physically.
Entering the "shadow space" is a new ball game today.

5pm at Lost Movements - Coniston Lane, The Valley.

---------

You should see 

the depths of black.
How darkness
has its own
spark its
own ebbing glow of black.

I’ve seen you play in the light.
I’m not blind.
You avoid the dark like it was cursed,
too distracted by the stars,
yet we exist in the spaces in between,
the enormous spaces between suns.

Even planets cast a shadow.

Before jesus was split open even he was dark inside
or does your jesus glow in the dark?

The folds of the world
are where I’m going.

Stuck within the creases of nothingness.

You should see 

the depths of black.

How darkness

has its own 

spark its

own ebbing glow of black.

-----------------

'Sall Good Baby Bayybeh!

I’m in the maternity ward of Logan hospital. My best friend has just had a baby.

Apparently I’ll make a great godfather.

I have no idea how to fix a lawn mower.

I’m not sure the criteria for being the best godfather ever, but I’m pretty sure some sort of maintenance qualification is part of it.

Godfather’s are supposed to be the ones where, if everything goes to shit - like EVERYTHING, EVER - I’m taking care of that bebeh.

But it’s the godparents that made James board a giant peach in Roald Dahl’s book. Or was it Aunties? I dunno. Either way I don’t want this bebeh to board a giant peach to escape from me.

So I need to learn how to fix lawn mowers. 

And dolls.

An old friend of mine told me once how awesome he thought his dad was because he fixed his transformer. He screwed a new, metal arm, on to one that had been torn off and lost. He said that, at that moment, he new his dad was the coolest ever. He had the best transformer with a slick REAL metal arm. Not the plastic ish that other transformers had.

Now I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be that cool. I’m pretty sure I’ll leave that kind of dad cool up to the dad to be, y’know, cool. But it would help, wouldn’t it?

Anyway, babies are pretty precious. So I’ll just sit here and contemplate all the things I could teach this baby. Like cards? Or how to rhyme? Or beatbox? Fishing?... I dunno… I usually find kids teach you more than you’ll ever teach them…

Welcome to the world Cleo Kowitz. You’ve got a lot to look forward to. Your family and I like to cook so I hope you enjoy coriander, chilli, sinigang, pork… your Grandma and Auntie’s spring rolls are the bomb.

______________

I don’t know if you could see me,
little fish,
swimming in air for the first time.
Little squashed face
breathing heavy gulps of
world.
Mountains and rivers and clouds,
giants and ants.
Breathe.
Fire and earth and colour and sound,
words and words and words,
Tagalog, English.
Breathe.
Wiggles and Play School and Yo Gabba Gabba,
Disney and Ghibli and X-men,
rom-coms and thrillers and
Tarantino.
Breathe.
You’re going to paint
with fingers,
with butterflies,
colour code your
shoes,

colour code your

summers,

colour code your
dreams.

Breathe.
Sit on your mums heart,
sit on your first bike,
sit on the horizon.
Breathe.
Sometimes, little fish,
you might ask me a question,
and I won’t know the answer.
It’s okay,
we’ll find out somehow:
read a book,
make an experiment to test.
We’ll save google until last.
It’s more fun that way.
Breathe.
Little fish need to learn how to dance,
laugh, cry, crack, slide, slip, ask,
and little fish need to learn how to
choose.
Breathe, little fish,

that's your first lesson.

Little fish, for now, just

breathe.

_________________

2012 Had Herpes

I hated 2012.
It was my biggest year.

I worked so hard. I was exhausted. Burnt out. Poked and prodded.

So I kept a list of things that helped me through the year.
That had nothing to do with anything except the reason why I do what I do.
I list it here so I can never forget, that in some way, I did something meaningful.

- Pinocchio pantomime at Bris Arts Theatre - Strogonoff is my favourite character ever
- Jam Jar Poetry Slam (learning what it takes to run a slam and how it's always in the audience's hands as much as the hosts)
- BadSlam!NoBiscuit! - Canberra (my first standing ovation) (staying with Andrew Galan and talking Firefly, being taken up to a mountain by Ellie and eating with eagles)
- OutSpoken - Sydney (twice)
- Byron & Lismore performances (Awkward host David Hallet and the weird vibe of Lismore poetry crowd)
- Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup 2012 (nearly taking it out and performing 3 new 8 minute sets each round)
- Mad Scientists Tea Party (the kids that ran amok)
- Collaborating with Fern Thompsett in our Gorillaz words of honour
- Collaborating with Rhyll in our as yet unpublished zine and another words of honour (Fat Freddy's Drop)
- Zen Zen Zo (All year keeping my heart beating and giving me another facet of performance to look at, consider, and move towards)
- Shooting at Shadows (mixing a live soundtrack courtesy of Fern with narration by Lucy Fox into a poetic diary of a Shadow that has lost its way. One of my favourite growth spurts and challenges of the year)
- Angela (falling in love with a beautiful woman who has my back and will bash you)
- Raw Poet Roar - facilitating an event that featured my favourite Brisbane underground voices, hosted by Fern and just a beautiful way to finish the year
- QPF - being asked to join the QPF board for 2013
- Woodford - cementing myself as a performer that pulls in crowds rather than lets them slip away. My favourite thing I've ever done. And the most validating way to know that I'm on the right path.

So what have you got for me 2013?

Zen Zen Zo Stomping Ground - Final Thoughts...

And so it all comes to an end. Stomping Ground 2013 has been a surreal and phenomenal experience. In terms of pushing the limits of my capabilities both physically and mentally, in terms of my emotional capabilities, and in terms of the bottle that is my body and what I fill it with when performing.

I don't know what to say.
Some people can brush it off. Some people can say it was just training. Some people can put it down to something else. But I dove in, headfirst. My girlfriend was pissed because I barely thought about anything else. I hardly saw anyone. I got consumed in the training. I wrote everyday. I journalised my experience. I philosophised about it all. My addictive personality grabbed hold of Zen Zen Zo and didn't let go.
I'm not saying this is at all healthy.
Or detrimental.
I'm just saying this was my experience.
I loved it.

Combined with the trip I'm about to take to India in less than two weeks, I think 2013 is going to be a year I don't forget. And you, my audience, I hope you don't forget it either.

I've had a chance to solidify my goals. I've had a chance to see what I can do in this world. A tester, you might say. I've had a chance to test-write for the stage in Zen Zen Zo's future production of Medea. I've written a piece that will be used by Zen Zen Zo's events team (Here There Be Dragons). I got to be a ghost. I got to do a mating dance. Not some ballerina ish. More like the carnage of a praying mantis.

So in saying goodbye to training, and hello to the world of performance for another year, it's probably a good idea to let it be however it, um, be.
Although I feel like I just met a beautiful woman, we had a 3 week love affair, and now she's telling me she's leaving me for a guy called Brandon, who has a 6 pack. But Brandon's an ass-hole. You'll miss me! You'll missss meeeeeeee!
:)

Thanks to Lynne Bradley and the whole teaching team at Zen Zen Zo for being great and inspiring. And a big thanks to my fellow participants who broke skin with me and let tears fall. It's okay to treasure the enigma of light that this was. It didn't last. But that's what made it so special.

Scotty

------------------

I wonder if Mr. Suzuki ever got
drunk
and stomped in the rain
like we did
that last night?
Whether he knew the satisfaction
of greasing joints
with tears and
blood.
Our thundercloud training room,
leaking,
so we moved with
the rain.
I may never know what Mr. Suzuki
does or doesn't do.
But I do know
my skin
will never be as transparent
as it was
that last night.

-------------------