I’m an old bag now. Ain’t no spring chicken. Chronologically speaking. But as far as I’m concerned, my life is just starting. I feel great. I’m excited. I’m happy.
I’ve sacrificed. I’ve suffered. I’ve struggled. I’ve worried. I’ve panicked. I sometimes still worry a little, and I’m still sacrificing, and on occasion I panic, and, well, sure, I’m still struggling. But I no longer suffer. I am acquiescent. I know fate has the final word. All I can do is do what I can do. Then just chill. Que será será, what will be will be. Dream my dreams, and be careful not to confuse them with fantasies. Although sometimes fantasies turn out to be dreams, and sometimes dreams turn out to be fantasies. What’s the difference between a dream and a fantasy? Well, realistic and unrealistic. Possible and impossible. But sometimes what seems unrealistic, becomes a reality. And sometimes what seemed an impossibility comes to pass, it happens. “Oh, she’ll never… Oh, shit, she did.” “Come on, it’ll never… Oh, shit, it did. ”
On Saturday I am going to be a featured reader at a poetry festival called Donde Esta Mi Gente. There’s a website www.dondeestamigente.com that describes this event. Baruch Porras-Hernandez dreamed up this artistic project. He’s a writer and performance artist who lives here in San Francisco. He says about this event:
“¿Dónde Esta Mi Gente? (Where are my people?) is a Festival of Latino Poetry and Spoken Word! For three days writers of all Latino backgrounds are going to get together and recite poetry to the people of San Francisco as part of National Poetry Month. ¿Dónde Esta Mi Gente? -Is a celebration of the voice of the latino writer, a multigenerational, multicultural exchange between writers from all walks of life that seeks to answer that question, by gathering some of the top writers in the bay area.”
I started this blog because I love to write. And because I have reclusive tendencies, I thought it good practice for being (in) public. But I don’t advertise it. I don’t tell anyone about it. Because it’s an experiment. It’s a public blog. Anyone who wants to can read it. I have already said, this is not a professional blog, it’s a personal blog.
Emily Dickinson didn’t have the opportunity to blog, or I’m sure she would have. But would anyone have read her? I don’t know.
I don’t want to be a poet of shadows anymore. I want light. This year seems to be off to a good start. I featured last month, I’m a featured reader twice this month, and I have three other possibilities lined up for future readings. Two are in Berkeley. So, momma’s got a brand new bag. Well, grammy, actually. The old bag. Moi. The old bag got herself a new bag. I’ve immersed myself in poetry this month. April is Poetry Month, after all.
Dream: I want a nice camera to continue taking photographs. This little camera I use is a simple non-pro camera, and I can’t always get the shots I want.
Dream: Make it as an artist. (Writing, performing, painting.)
Dream: Readers reading my blog.
If you are in San Francisco tomorrow, do come to the reading. It’s in the Castro.