What a marvelous day!
This morning, I had the honor of reading with Franklin Abbott and Theresa Davis at First Existentialist Congregation in Candler Park, Atlanta.The subject for Poetry Month at First E. was:
"Poetry is the Queerest of Languages."
The crowd was enthusiastic, and the response to everything from the traditional African-American spirituals we sang, to the incredibly talented pianist playing a smoking blues song, to hearing Franklin's steady,warm voice and mellow words, to feeling Theresa's heartbreak as she retold the story I never tire of hearing(her "Breathe", based on a lost love from college), was amazing.
I read afew older pieces, and then...
I chose a new piece to read, called "China Blue Frost", (the name of a Revlon eyeshadow), which has to do with (a few of)my days in college, sort of.....
Afterwards, Julie Bloemeke, Dan M., and I headed over to The Flying Biscuit(in L5P)
Yum.
I even ordered(and enjoyed!) a cocktail.
Yaaay, Peach Bellini.
Then tonight, went to visit with a pal who found me through Facebook. We met up at a dear mutual friend's home.
Food,conversation.
I love life, like this!
Peace,kids.
Showing posts with label Theresa Davis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theresa Davis. Show all posts
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sunday, December 07, 2008
I'M HEADED OUT OF TOWN, FOR SURGERY.
I'll be leaving early tomorrow(Monday) for the famed Cleveland Clinic, where I will undergo major surgery (on Wednesday, Dec. 10th) to repair my intestinal tract. I have suffered with acute Diverticulitis for over 5 years, and this surgery is long-over-due.
If you pray, please do pray for me. If you don't, I would respectfully ask that you give a minute of your day to me, where you focus on my healing, and/or visualize a healthy, vibrant Lisa. Thank you so very much!
I WILL BE ABSENT FROM THE ENTIRE BLOGOSPHERE, AND INDEED, THE INTERNET, FOR A FEW WEEKS! I'LL MISS YOU KIDS! BE SAFE, AND HAVE FUN WHILE I'M AWAY!
And now....some of those photos I've been promising the past few months!
The following picture was taken on November 3rd, one day before President-Elect Barack Obama's historic win!
Pictured are 91-year-old Winnie Wilds, and on her left, daughter CiCi, and on her right, daughter Dimawi. I was so impressed by this family--all volunteers at the Democratic Party Headquarters in Roswell. I loved working alongside these ladies, and several others!
Scroll on down, and you'll see me, in my wedding gown. The date was Feburary 10th, 2007. A few folks have asked to see the gown, which I had Nadine Jean-Marie(a dress designer from Alpharetta, originally from French Haiti)do for me. I showed up, explained I wanted a "late 1920's/early 1930's feel--silk charmeuse, flow-y, something I can wear at night, with a reflective feel, as I want lots of candlelight for a soft look..." I told her EXACTLY the design, but my Mom--Demetra suggested the off-shoulder look(which helped broaden my tiny frame, I think), and I suggested "gauntlet" gloves to pair with the dress. Nadine added simple beading to the neckline, and made a criss-cross tie for the bare back. She created, completely on her own, the beaded veil. (I found the material for everything at a Cheshire Bridge fabric store(near the Colonnade Restaurant)and when I returned to Nadine, I explained I wanted it to fit very snug, almost mermaid-ish, but flow-ier, Jean Harlow-like....)So, there you are.
I'll have a few more photos in two weeks(I have to get proper equipment to put the pic of Kate Evans & I(from the AQLF, held here a couple of months ago) .I'll also have pics from the Gay Pride weekend, and Wordsmiths' Books (July 4th), which show Collin Kelley, Theresa Davis, and others!
In the meantime, catch up with other blogs--check out my list of faves to the right of my blog!
Peace, kids.
I'll be leaving early tomorrow(Monday) for the famed Cleveland Clinic, where I will undergo major surgery (on Wednesday, Dec. 10th) to repair my intestinal tract. I have suffered with acute Diverticulitis for over 5 years, and this surgery is long-over-due.
If you pray, please do pray for me. If you don't, I would respectfully ask that you give a minute of your day to me, where you focus on my healing, and/or visualize a healthy, vibrant Lisa. Thank you so very much!
I WILL BE ABSENT FROM THE ENTIRE BLOGOSPHERE, AND INDEED, THE INTERNET, FOR A FEW WEEKS! I'LL MISS YOU KIDS! BE SAFE, AND HAVE FUN WHILE I'M AWAY!
And now....some of those photos I've been promising the past few months!
The following picture was taken on November 3rd, one day before President-Elect Barack Obama's historic win!
Pictured are 91-year-old Winnie Wilds, and on her left, daughter CiCi, and on her right, daughter Dimawi. I was so impressed by this family--all volunteers at the Democratic Party Headquarters in Roswell. I loved working alongside these ladies, and several others!
Scroll on down, and you'll see me, in my wedding gown. The date was Feburary 10th, 2007. A few folks have asked to see the gown, which I had Nadine Jean-Marie(a dress designer from Alpharetta, originally from French Haiti)do for me. I showed up, explained I wanted a "late 1920's/early 1930's feel--silk charmeuse, flow-y, something I can wear at night, with a reflective feel, as I want lots of candlelight for a soft look..." I told her EXACTLY the design, but my Mom--Demetra suggested the off-shoulder look(which helped broaden my tiny frame, I think), and I suggested "gauntlet" gloves to pair with the dress. Nadine added simple beading to the neckline, and made a criss-cross tie for the bare back. She created, completely on her own, the beaded veil. (I found the material for everything at a Cheshire Bridge fabric store(near the Colonnade Restaurant)and when I returned to Nadine, I explained I wanted it to fit very snug, almost mermaid-ish, but flow-ier, Jean Harlow-like....)So, there you are.
I'll have a few more photos in two weeks(I have to get proper equipment to put the pic of Kate Evans & I(from the AQLF, held here a couple of months ago) .I'll also have pics from the Gay Pride weekend, and Wordsmiths' Books (July 4th), which show Collin Kelley, Theresa Davis, and others!
In the meantime, catch up with other blogs--check out my list of faves to the right of my blog!
Peace, kids.
Monday, November 10, 2008
MY WEEKEND.
Although I am still ill, I was able to get over to "Voices Carry" the annual event suggested by the late, great Chante'Whitley-Head, and co-created with the help of Cecilia Woloch and Collin Kelley.
Pal Danny M. drove as I told myself I'd feel better once I was in the company of the featured artists. I missed getting to hear Collin Kelley read during the first few moments of the evening, but was buoyed that I was able to enjoy the rest of the wonderful night.
As usual,"Voices Carry" featured an eclectic mix of poets. Laurel Snyder's poem "It's a Boy" was hilarious and touching;Jim Elledge's excerpts from "A History of My Tatoo" were at times, hard to take in ("I was almost 13, and he said 'shhhhhh, don't tell anyone' " -- a refrain, and theme);Theresa Davis' poem about "Why Do I Do This?" was inspiring, and uplifting;Cecilia Woloch's magical, wistful "Bareback Pantoum" had us revisiting our own brink-of-adulthood memories;special visitor from San Francisco, Leroy Moore, and his poem on the history of differently-abled peoples challenged us to educate ourselves;Kodac Harrison's classic poems on the theme of Dreams, including my personal favorite,"Dream Turtle", saluted this historic week(re: President-Elect Barack Obama)).
Collin Kelley wrapped up the evening with a shout-out to Wordsmiths' Books, which always supports local authors and hosts local and national author-events.
I purchased Cecilia Woloch's brand-new "Narcissus", and am reading it now. The themes I'm already seeing have to do with losing one's voice through oppression(by a man? oneself?) and then finding it again(perhaps as a result of the oppression?). There also seem to be themes of reflection--in terms of "seeing" oneself reflected, and in the actual, thoughtful process of reflecting on one's own acts,on one's own character--weighty subjects, but handled with the ever-present pure,Woloch lyricism.
"I'm up so late, it's early."
I first said this phrase, nearly twenty years ago, when I worked "job-jobs"(my term for non-performing/non-writing work) that required late night hours(various jobs in bar/nightclub environs). I suppose at middle-age(what IS that, anyway, and hell, at 51, does that mean I get to live to see age 102?)we stay up because we simply can't sleep. (It is 3:00 A.M., as I write this.) In my case, it is not out of worry, but out of excitement. What I find in middle-age is not apathy, or a sense of loss (all those things I once thought would befall me, as I'd heard tell that's what happens), but a sense that life truly becomes more interesting, and I can begin to believe I can make a difference. In others'lives. In my own.
I even find myself trying things at which I may never excel. Like hiking!
Which brings me to how-I-spent-Sunday:
With "Louie" in tow, Hansoo and I drove out to Amicalola State Park
(I should note here we got away rather late(nearly 1:30 P.M.!), once again on account of my continual illness, but soon this will be remedied--after my surgery(coming up in December!) and I'll be better-than-new!)
So, we arrived, and commenced hiking up to see the famed Amicalola Falls.
"Louie" went nuts, looking less like a golden retreiver of nearly 11 years, more like a pup of a few months, eager with hot breath and huge, clumsy paws, and a tail that thumped continually, for adventure.
The leaves of the maples swirled around us--red, rust, bright gold. The ground had been blanketed so thickly, it was rather treacherous to climb. Slipping was a given, and I nearly fell,twice.
Nearing the peak, we could hear rushing water and a few quiet ooooh's and ahhhh's from a conglomeration of older white couples with Christian crosses and lots of babies(their grandchildren, or are these their children,courtesy of in-vitro-help?). There were also young Korean folks who live in the area.And several women with razor-short-hair who walked either arm-in-arm or hand-in-hand with whom I'm guessing were their life-partners. And an oddly large number of Chinese and Japanese tourists.
I pressed "Video" mode on my "Shine" phone, and recorded the crash of water over rock, hoping the sound would be at least as perfectly taped as the images of the water were...As much as I sometimes hate giving in to modern technology, I wanted to be able to play and re-play that soothing sound.
And there was that odd sensation once again--that feeling of being awed, scared of the height, of the danger--while simultaneously wanting to jump into the water, those rocks. No, I'm NOT suicidal, but this odd phenomenon plagues me every time I'm up high--whether it's at the top of the fake "tower" at the Paris Hotel casino in Las Vegas(I've been in the real Eiffel Tower, but it's safer there, because it's protected), or the various tall buildings in Chicago(Sears Tower)or San Francisco. It is an overwhelming sense of wanting to be set free, to fly. It's very odd.
In the past, I've asked my Mom about it,and she said she always feels that way, too. She said it's why she's "scared" of heights. In my case, I do have acrophobia(even looking at photos of tall buildings can make my palms sweat), but there is also an irresistible urge to climb and then look straight down.
I survived, kids, because the closest I got to the edge was when I teetered close to a cliff-hugging tree to see between the branches--curved, craggy, sharp--in order to witness a breathtaking burst of bright gold maple, branches spread out like the way a priest holds his arms out just before the sacrament of communion. I felt like crying for some reason, but I did not.
I just stared.
Starting back down the trail,I was pretty tired, so Hansoo left with "The Lou" to drive back to fetch me. In the meantime, I attempted some Haiku(the original intent of Haiku was to show praise/glory for nature--I daresay I went with that original intention on Sunday, though we'll see how successful my attempts are!), and checked my cell-phone for messages.
I saw some folks rolling their eyes as I sat on a rock, pen in hand, yellow-legal-pad (my preferred paper for writing poetry)at my side, and my cell-phone nestled next to me. I hope it wasn't too intrusive. In that moment, I was exactly the kind of person(a cell-phone-toting hiker!)that I find ridiculous.
Thirty minutes later(Hansoo told me Louie literally flew down the trail as they headed to the car)I piled into the car, and off we went.
On the way home, I told Hansoo how hungry I was. He agreed that hiking works up an appetite. After feeding "The Lou" at home, and seeing him nod off to sleep, we opted for a nearby buffet-restaurant that offers "comfort food"--mashed potatoes, veggies, fried chicken, and the like.
When I returned home, I found myself saying Thank You to a God that only a few years ago, I did not believe in.
If you've never been to Amicalola State Park, don't wait--get over there now, while there are still the colors of autumn on the trees, and at your feet. This year, they won't be there much longer.
Peace,kids.
Although I am still ill, I was able to get over to "Voices Carry" the annual event suggested by the late, great Chante'Whitley-Head, and co-created with the help of Cecilia Woloch and Collin Kelley.
Pal Danny M. drove as I told myself I'd feel better once I was in the company of the featured artists. I missed getting to hear Collin Kelley read during the first few moments of the evening, but was buoyed that I was able to enjoy the rest of the wonderful night.
As usual,"Voices Carry" featured an eclectic mix of poets. Laurel Snyder's poem "It's a Boy" was hilarious and touching;Jim Elledge's excerpts from "A History of My Tatoo" were at times, hard to take in ("I was almost 13, and he said 'shhhhhh, don't tell anyone' " -- a refrain, and theme);Theresa Davis' poem about "Why Do I Do This?" was inspiring, and uplifting;Cecilia Woloch's magical, wistful "Bareback Pantoum" had us revisiting our own brink-of-adulthood memories;special visitor from San Francisco, Leroy Moore, and his poem on the history of differently-abled peoples challenged us to educate ourselves;Kodac Harrison's classic poems on the theme of Dreams, including my personal favorite,"Dream Turtle", saluted this historic week(re: President-Elect Barack Obama)).
Collin Kelley wrapped up the evening with a shout-out to Wordsmiths' Books, which always supports local authors and hosts local and national author-events.
I purchased Cecilia Woloch's brand-new "Narcissus", and am reading it now. The themes I'm already seeing have to do with losing one's voice through oppression(by a man? oneself?) and then finding it again(perhaps as a result of the oppression?). There also seem to be themes of reflection--in terms of "seeing" oneself reflected, and in the actual, thoughtful process of reflecting on one's own acts,on one's own character--weighty subjects, but handled with the ever-present pure,Woloch lyricism.
"I'm up so late, it's early."
I first said this phrase, nearly twenty years ago, when I worked "job-jobs"(my term for non-performing/non-writing work) that required late night hours(various jobs in bar/nightclub environs). I suppose at middle-age(what IS that, anyway, and hell, at 51, does that mean I get to live to see age 102?)we stay up because we simply can't sleep. (It is 3:00 A.M., as I write this.) In my case, it is not out of worry, but out of excitement. What I find in middle-age is not apathy, or a sense of loss (all those things I once thought would befall me, as I'd heard tell that's what happens), but a sense that life truly becomes more interesting, and I can begin to believe I can make a difference. In others'lives. In my own.
I even find myself trying things at which I may never excel. Like hiking!
Which brings me to how-I-spent-Sunday:
With "Louie" in tow, Hansoo and I drove out to Amicalola State Park
(I should note here we got away rather late(nearly 1:30 P.M.!), once again on account of my continual illness, but soon this will be remedied--after my surgery(coming up in December!) and I'll be better-than-new!)
So, we arrived, and commenced hiking up to see the famed Amicalola Falls.
"Louie" went nuts, looking less like a golden retreiver of nearly 11 years, more like a pup of a few months, eager with hot breath and huge, clumsy paws, and a tail that thumped continually, for adventure.
The leaves of the maples swirled around us--red, rust, bright gold. The ground had been blanketed so thickly, it was rather treacherous to climb. Slipping was a given, and I nearly fell,twice.
Nearing the peak, we could hear rushing water and a few quiet ooooh's and ahhhh's from a conglomeration of older white couples with Christian crosses and lots of babies(their grandchildren, or are these their children,courtesy of in-vitro-help?). There were also young Korean folks who live in the area.And several women with razor-short-hair who walked either arm-in-arm or hand-in-hand with whom I'm guessing were their life-partners. And an oddly large number of Chinese and Japanese tourists.
I pressed "Video" mode on my "Shine" phone, and recorded the crash of water over rock, hoping the sound would be at least as perfectly taped as the images of the water were...As much as I sometimes hate giving in to modern technology, I wanted to be able to play and re-play that soothing sound.
And there was that odd sensation once again--that feeling of being awed, scared of the height, of the danger--while simultaneously wanting to jump into the water, those rocks. No, I'm NOT suicidal, but this odd phenomenon plagues me every time I'm up high--whether it's at the top of the fake "tower" at the Paris Hotel casino in Las Vegas(I've been in the real Eiffel Tower, but it's safer there, because it's protected), or the various tall buildings in Chicago(Sears Tower)or San Francisco. It is an overwhelming sense of wanting to be set free, to fly. It's very odd.
In the past, I've asked my Mom about it,and she said she always feels that way, too. She said it's why she's "scared" of heights. In my case, I do have acrophobia(even looking at photos of tall buildings can make my palms sweat), but there is also an irresistible urge to climb and then look straight down.
I survived, kids, because the closest I got to the edge was when I teetered close to a cliff-hugging tree to see between the branches--curved, craggy, sharp--in order to witness a breathtaking burst of bright gold maple, branches spread out like the way a priest holds his arms out just before the sacrament of communion. I felt like crying for some reason, but I did not.
I just stared.
Starting back down the trail,I was pretty tired, so Hansoo left with "The Lou" to drive back to fetch me. In the meantime, I attempted some Haiku(the original intent of Haiku was to show praise/glory for nature--I daresay I went with that original intention on Sunday, though we'll see how successful my attempts are!), and checked my cell-phone for messages.
I saw some folks rolling their eyes as I sat on a rock, pen in hand, yellow-legal-pad (my preferred paper for writing poetry)at my side, and my cell-phone nestled next to me. I hope it wasn't too intrusive. In that moment, I was exactly the kind of person(a cell-phone-toting hiker!)that I find ridiculous.
Thirty minutes later(Hansoo told me Louie literally flew down the trail as they headed to the car)I piled into the car, and off we went.
On the way home, I told Hansoo how hungry I was. He agreed that hiking works up an appetite. After feeding "The Lou" at home, and seeing him nod off to sleep, we opted for a nearby buffet-restaurant that offers "comfort food"--mashed potatoes, veggies, fried chicken, and the like.
When I returned home, I found myself saying Thank You to a God that only a few years ago, I did not believe in.
If you've never been to Amicalola State Park, don't wait--get over there now, while there are still the colors of autumn on the trees, and at your feet. This year, they won't be there much longer.
Peace,kids.
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