The next few months are looking to be exciting and entertaining. I haven’t been on campus a full week yet but already I feel more productive than I have in months. I think this makes up for just how useless I felt when I was at home. I enjoyed my time home but I felt like I wasn’t getting anything done. I suppose the change really did come with the meeting of the POETS. So my time at home wasn't a complete loss.
Speaking of which, I promised a little background on the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
In high school, my friend Gringo and I were involved in the creation of our school’s annual literary magazine. As such, we came into contact with quite a number of great writers (as well as some people with pens and not a clue how to turn a phrase). One of the people we met was a quiet guy who, in my previous post, I referred to as both brother St. Louis and Tree. This young man wrote some fantastic poetry and was always a joy to be around. Sadly, Tree and I lost contact when he moved south to participate in AmeriCorps activities, mostly in Louisiana if I remember correctly (which is improbable).
This past academic year has been rough for me, something I believe I mentioned previously. A few months ago Tree began posting a poem or two on that wonderful and awful networking site Facebook. I enjoyed the poem very much and sent Tree a little note telling him so. That sparked a flurry of correspondence that helped my state of mind quite a bit.
In our correspondence the idea of starting a church of poets was thrown out. We’d find a church building, take the windows and doors off to let the outside in and begin holding services. The Sabbath would begin at sundown on Friday and end at sunrise on Sunday, at which time we would walk outside into the light and go about living our lives until the next Sabbath. Inside the church, anything goes as long as no one gets hurt. There would be copious amounts of alcohol and weed, sex would be acceptable at any time, on any surface, with any willing partner. Sermons would come in the form of poetry and short plays, music would be a constant. The paintings in the church would change weekly at the whim of the artists.
For me, this is a lovely idea but what has stuck out to me, and to us as a whole I think, is the idea of gathering a group of artists to share creations with one another, as well as create. I love the idea of collectives, which is what this is, really. As I said last time, if it continues to grow and include more visual artists, musicians and thespians, the name might have to change, but for now we’re still the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
the CHURCH of the PAGAN POETS
I don’t update nearly as much as I’d like to and for that I apologize. I second guess myself when I think I have something I’d like to write about. I begin thinking people don’t care nearly as much as I do. Which is probably true, but I need to just start posting anyway. If things become too self indulgent here just let me know.
Actually, that’s the point, isn’t it? Writing is, by nature, a self indulgent occupation of time. I’ve been writing since eighth grade, which means that, at this point, I’ve been writing for almost nine years. Which isn’t very long, really, but considering that nine years is nearly half of my life, that’s pretty significant. I started writing in order to make sense of my head. Eventually it turned into something that I enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) and something I’m pretty good at.
So I’ve become content with being a self indulgent writer. In fact, I’ve found others like me and become good friends with them. Yesterday afternoon three of them came over to my house for what we called the first gathering of the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS. Brother St. Andrew (Gringo), brother St. Louis (Tree) and brother St. Adam (Nicknameless) were all present. We grilled food, drank beer and shared our words. It was an incredibly satisfying experience; something I’d like to continue.
I also think it would be interesting for each of us to get small groups of artists together at our respective schools and have similar gatherings. I know that I for one have struggled being away from the creative people I surrounded myself with in high school. I have found other creative thinkers at school but nothing as solid as the group of friends I had in high school.
The idea of having cells of pagan poets and pagan choirs and pagan orchestras all over the Midwest is an exciting one for me. Really, I think we’d have to change the name of the church to the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN ARTISTS, which would feature preachers (the poets and actors), the pagan choirs backed by the pagan orchestras, and a congregation of people devoted to enjoying the arts.
I’ll write more on the inspiration for the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS later, but right now I’m still riding high from the actual meeting.
Actually, that’s the point, isn’t it? Writing is, by nature, a self indulgent occupation of time. I’ve been writing since eighth grade, which means that, at this point, I’ve been writing for almost nine years. Which isn’t very long, really, but considering that nine years is nearly half of my life, that’s pretty significant. I started writing in order to make sense of my head. Eventually it turned into something that I enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) and something I’m pretty good at.
So I’ve become content with being a self indulgent writer. In fact, I’ve found others like me and become good friends with them. Yesterday afternoon three of them came over to my house for what we called the first gathering of the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS. Brother St. Andrew (Gringo), brother St. Louis (Tree) and brother St. Adam (Nicknameless) were all present. We grilled food, drank beer and shared our words. It was an incredibly satisfying experience; something I’d like to continue.
I also think it would be interesting for each of us to get small groups of artists together at our respective schools and have similar gatherings. I know that I for one have struggled being away from the creative people I surrounded myself with in high school. I have found other creative thinkers at school but nothing as solid as the group of friends I had in high school.
The idea of having cells of pagan poets and pagan choirs and pagan orchestras all over the Midwest is an exciting one for me. Really, I think we’d have to change the name of the church to the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN ARTISTS, which would feature preachers (the poets and actors), the pagan choirs backed by the pagan orchestras, and a congregation of people devoted to enjoying the arts.
I’ll write more on the inspiration for the CHURCH OF THE PAGAN POETS later, but right now I’m still riding high from the actual meeting.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux
I can feel myself growing up. I'm not yet sure how to feel about that. When I turned twenty a few months ago I was so against being a "grown up" and I was so upset that I could no longer claim to be just "a stupid teenager." What I'm now trying to come to terms with is the fact that one can grow up and be a mature human being without becoming a "grown up." At least, I hope that is a fact.
This post and the last post are both products of the fact that I started seeing a therapist. The funny thing is, at this point, I've only been there once. My next appointment is next week. I hope that by starting to pinpoint the reasons I see the world the way I do will help me cope with that. I don't want to change that, necessarily, I just want to cope. I think that's all people can really do.
But I digress.
I grew up when I was in fifth grade or so, around the time my parents got divorced. The separation was not handled well (a fact that I identified about a year ago), and I was placed in the position of picking up the slack my parents left. When I was at dad's house I played the role of mom. When I was at mom's house I played dad. To this day I feel that my brother regards me as a parent figure a little bit. I've made an effort to become friends with him but I think I'll always be an "authority" to him.
I grew up a little more when I switched from the public school system to a private school for my freshman year of high school. I remember feeling oddly out of place because I had never before been in a private school. I also remember feeling a little uncomfortable with just how many white people were around me. My grade school, when I went there, had an almost seventy percent Asian (and mostly Hmong) student body. My middle school was also very diverse. I think the fact that in high school I found one of the few people from a rougher neighborhood and became best friends with him is telling.
When I got to college I was told, by many people, that I don't act my age. I can't even begin to count the number of times I've been mistaken for being older than I am. It's flattering, yes, but at a certain point I just wish I could be a kid forever. I've met a number of people who are very mature and intelligent, but still kids at heart. I love being around these people because when I'm with them I don't feel old. They get my energy moving and I finally start feeling like I'm getting back some of the childhood that I missed by forcing myself to grow up to cope with my parents needing me to be grown up.
What I've been trying (and probably failing) to get at with this post is this: I want to be content with growing up because I know I'll still keep my curiosity and sense of play. At the very least I want to be a grown up who won't try to snuff out the kid I find in the people I meet. And especially the children I meet. They deserve their childhood.
This post and the last post are both products of the fact that I started seeing a therapist. The funny thing is, at this point, I've only been there once. My next appointment is next week. I hope that by starting to pinpoint the reasons I see the world the way I do will help me cope with that. I don't want to change that, necessarily, I just want to cope. I think that's all people can really do.
But I digress.
I grew up when I was in fifth grade or so, around the time my parents got divorced. The separation was not handled well (a fact that I identified about a year ago), and I was placed in the position of picking up the slack my parents left. When I was at dad's house I played the role of mom. When I was at mom's house I played dad. To this day I feel that my brother regards me as a parent figure a little bit. I've made an effort to become friends with him but I think I'll always be an "authority" to him.
I grew up a little more when I switched from the public school system to a private school for my freshman year of high school. I remember feeling oddly out of place because I had never before been in a private school. I also remember feeling a little uncomfortable with just how many white people were around me. My grade school, when I went there, had an almost seventy percent Asian (and mostly Hmong) student body. My middle school was also very diverse. I think the fact that in high school I found one of the few people from a rougher neighborhood and became best friends with him is telling.
When I got to college I was told, by many people, that I don't act my age. I can't even begin to count the number of times I've been mistaken for being older than I am. It's flattering, yes, but at a certain point I just wish I could be a kid forever. I've met a number of people who are very mature and intelligent, but still kids at heart. I love being around these people because when I'm with them I don't feel old. They get my energy moving and I finally start feeling like I'm getting back some of the childhood that I missed by forcing myself to grow up to cope with my parents needing me to be grown up.
What I've been trying (and probably failing) to get at with this post is this: I want to be content with growing up because I know I'll still keep my curiosity and sense of play. At the very least I want to be a grown up who won't try to snuff out the kid I find in the people I meet. And especially the children I meet. They deserve their childhood.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
