Momentum Literature Underground 05/25/2010
 This past Saturday night I did my first live reading from my book. I wasn't sure what to expect, and fifteen minutes before the show started my stomach was fluttering. I wasn't nervous to read. Even though there wasn't one person in the audience beside my fiance and two friends who had ever heard of Ayahuasca, I wasn't nervous to talk about my visions. I didn't fear the judgment or the assumptions people might make, "he's a druggy" or "he's a hippy" or "he's in a cult." As a matter of fact I don't really fear that from anyone because I've yet to get that response from anyone who takes some time to speak with me. Turns out what made me nervous was the temperature of the room. It was cold. Yet in my head I was searching for a reason to be nervous. Why was I shivering a little and feeling anxious in my stomach and throat? It's funny how simple things can make us run around inside looking for an explanation. As if explanations are certificates of ownership: the title to a new sports car, a 12 month lease in the best spot in Manhattan, a college degree, an engagement ring. We have these things because "x led to y and y led to z." And the linear chronology is very important. That's how love stories are made. It was my first reading, and as much as I love a good linear narrative, a start to finish story (that is, afterall, what my book is like) I got a good chuckle watching how far into my head I got about it before I finally calmed down. I was trying to think of things I could have eaten, remembering something about the violence of Jupiter in Aries, the fact that it was almost five years to the day that I had drank my first cup of ayahuasca in Peru, and then wondering, "will I forever be thought of as a "niche" writer, an ayahuasca artist?" Then I started thinking about one-hit-wonders. The BeeGees for example. But then wait. They were a one hit wonder for ME, but maybe not for the countless fans who enjoyed something other than "Staying Alive" 15 years after the fact? Arrogance. Why am I shivering? Am I a navel gazer? This is ridiculous. My thoughts aren't usually this fussy. What did I eat today? "I can't believe they are blasting the AC in here?" my fiance grabbed my arm and cuddled into my shoulder. (Insert the one man standing to clap at the dramatic ending of a sports film). AHA.(Light goes on in my head and a smile across my face) It's cold, you dork. Sometimes we construct powerful stories. We look for the clues and follow the event trail and make a narrative. And then sometimes we've got to stop all of that nonsense and stick to the facts so we can do a good job of what's right in front of us. It's cold. It's making me shiver before I go on stage. That's making me a little nervous. I'm going to do some core breathing and warm my body. And if it weren't for that moment, would I have really listened to the rest of the readers for the night, or would I have kept searching for an explanation to my discontent, continually reinforcing myself with the idea that, "I'm usually better than THIS."? There were forty people. Local artists reading. Some basement on White street, between Broadway and Lafayette. Piano. Christmas lights strung up. Open bar. Folding chairs. Local photography on the walls. A few folks cried and gripped each other's arms when I read from my book. A few thanked me. Someone said, "I think that did something to ME. That was like my own journey." And some kid said, "I did acid a week ago, and the lights on Broadway were really impressive." "Oh yeah?" I asked. He nodded. "Beautiful." The lights on Broadway were really impressive. Simple facts that surround the sharing of stories that can so quickly turn into something else. The light is impressive... Comments10/19/2010 01:33
Not because of change garments according to the season is not without distance without looking for you, Not because of you, Not from a busy and time and forget you, In the autumn is strong, I sincerely wish to you. 10/21/2010 01:46
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Human nature is the most poor: we all dream to have a wonderful rose garden, and not to appreciate our window open today in the rose. 04/25/2012 07:09
Being able to wait is a sign of true love and patience.Anyone can say she loves you but not everyone can wait for you. Leave a Reply | ArchivesOctober 2010 Categories |
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