1. Go to Ghana
2. Take up a secret lover (if only for one night)
3. Study with your literary idol
4. Hug the women folk, love the women folk, laugh with the women folk
5. Swallow the lessons
6. Write it ALL down
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I am almost done with my second round of "Eat, Pray, Love." I will be giving it to Tonya as a gift, even though I'm not quite finished. This is my message to her:
"Dear Tonya,
After my second reading, I am hoping to have absorbed most of this book's message. So here it is, passing hands and hearts, one crazy girl to another. True, its beat and dirty, a restless journey from New York to Ghana, but it came with me for a reason- to find you. It's lessons are one you already know and hold dear. Consider it a reminder on those mad nights when even the moon is your enemy. It was as timely sanctuary for me and I suspect it will hold some comfort for you, as well. A small gift for my new enormous spirited friend, Tonya. I feel honored that our paths have crossed.
Big love!
Caitlin
P.S. I know what you will say- stop! I can buy another one should I need it."
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One of the Nigerian students asked me last night, "Caitlin, how are you coping alone in that room with no TV or radio?" Funny. I hadn't thought of that. My buzzing brain is so full of stories that at the end of the day all my heart longs for is to write. I can't imagine watching TV here. Even music, as desperately as I love it, has little place in this experience. My iPOD sits in my bag, unused. My songs, instead, are the lilting accents of the Nigerian students laughing in the common room, the barking dogs in heat, the bull frogs and their incredible feat of throats. My own heart beat and breath.
Today in the workshop we talk about the function of poetry as a group (finally!) Yusef shares his thoughts on what makes a good poem. Notes below:
- Each line is important, each word. The word that falls right or left of a given word changes the music.
- Take out the extraneous
- Entry into the poem very important
- "Art is that which endures"- spoken by a friend of Yusef's. This was a new way of thinking about poems for him. We write the poem for the moment, but we revise it with the intention of endurance (even if it doesn't end up enduring.) "Time is always at war with other Gods"- a quote from an article in an Italian publication he read
- Music of the poem in relation to the oral tradition- the ear is a great editor. Think of language as music.
Tyehimba shares that poetry, for him, is an opportunity to have his voice heard beyond his time of the planet. A way to share political ideals, though he is wary of preaching to the choir or creating a message without image. The image is extremely important, above all. Tonya shares that a writer must discover themselves in the creation of the work, create an alternative space. She is interested in how poets use language to draw in different audiences. Refers to George Orwell's essay, "Politics and the English Language."
Yusef calls on Plato. In his ideal republic, Plato banishes the poet. Why? Yusef thinks the poet forces us to pose questions. By posing a question, the reader is already active. Being told a message is passive. Language is political and silence is political. The image is subversive because it keeps reoccurring in our psyche, it haunts us. Yusef believes a short statement can be inserted into a poem successfully, but only depending on what happens around it. Often poets think too much about the meaning of the line and not the music. Sometimes we don't want to understand the poem entirely. We must be wary of poems as emotional advertisements, lacking depth and mystery. Embrace the mystery.
After the workshop, Tonya, Tyehimba, Masese, Mildred and I grab a bite before the evening reading. Masese tells us how he makes his Obokano, the traditional instrument he plays, specific to his village in Kenya. Amazingly, its all natural. A specific tree in the forest is used in its creation, a tree that is not used for firewood, except in the exception of elders and widows, since it is easy to access, close to the edge of the forest. If lightening strikes any given tree, this is the same tradition, it is left for elders and widows. The strings of the instrument are made of dried animal veins. The body, of hallowed gourds. Masese made his instrument himself in about a week long process.
The conversation turns to slam and hip hop. Earlier, in the workshop, Yusef grins, "I am not the person to have this conversation with." Its a tired topic, that is, sadly, still relevant. I find myself annoyed at the discussion, but still on the fence. I am drawn to literature and poetry, this is what most deeply moves me, but can I consciously deny an art form that was once so important and defining in my life? The feeling of not wanting to return to New York life rushes through me during this talk like a swarm of angry bees.
I am here, I am here, I am here, I am here.
Part of our workshop!
The post workshop search for food
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