Last week Wednesday was rainy, but not gloomy by far. A week before, the fabulous Spring weather in the DMV had my mom thinking she's cut out for the northern life. But her spring break visit was too short and sweet, and I was again hit with reminders of my first real winter, which I'd only just begun to forget about. Funny how sunshine and khaki shorts can make you forget what a scarf around the neck even feels like, huh? And, who knew there was actually a difference between my regular seasons: hot and cold? This Floridian didn't. Either way, Sparkle and I made the trek down to Washington that morning, yes, without a GPS...but it took me about 15 minutes longer than it should have to make it to campus. Work in progress. The occasion for Sparkle's guest appearance in the District? A spoken word event, hosted by me, sponsored by the Black Public Health Student Network. You probably saw me mention it on Facebook, Twitter, BBM, gmail...you get it. I was pubbing like crazy, and thrilled at the opportunity to rub elbows and exchange poems with some of DC's best. These guys and gal competed in the huge slam event, Graffiti DC, they have YouTube video views galore (that's when you've REALLY made it), and all came highly recommended. I knew the highlight would be watching and listening to the other poets, maybe soaking up some of their talent through osmosis.
By 6pm, Sparkle was parked and unloaded, turkey sandwich platters and water bottles graced the tables in the on-campus lounge, and the neosoul Genius mix was spewing acoustic inspiration from the Bose speakers. Those who attended left with smiles on their faces, and I left with an uplifted and inspired mind (and two new BBM contacts, but you expected that, didn't you?) It's safe to say, everyone, that I LOVE spoken word. And, I am IN LOVE with performing it. But, this is a relationship that I may have to treat like a long-distance lover for a while. I'll only see my poetry book on weekends here and there. I've neglected the blogging and poem writing for a while because I'm giving this MCAT thing and school all I've got. Trying to, anyway. Keeping up the stamina problem after Chemistry problem after Physics problem is tough...and here I am wasting perfectly conscious night time minutes on a memory.
But, I can't stop thinking about it.
Sharing my words with the crowd, mostly strangers, and getting a few under-the-breath moans of agreement and head nods, that was a reassuring feeling I hope will never feel jaded. Being appreciated, being understood. Closing your eyes, and hoping that when they open, those people in the crowd who could boo you, make eye contact to give props, instead. They feel whatever you were feeling when you raised your voice and didn't even mean to get loud. You hope they can resonate with the emotions you croon in octaves you didn't even know you could reach. Will they get it? That was my big fear before I went up to perform. But when I started reciting my poem, I forgot about crowd appreciation, and I just listened to the woman who was up there baring her soul through my voice and lyrics- the woman I wrote about who I'd met nearly a year ago. I channeled her pain when I wrote it, and I believe we all ended up tuned in.
Here I go getting poetic again. Time to hit these notecards and catch the train back to the apartmadorm, folks. See you soon.
