Self examination

So i've watched the video of my performance over and over, and even though everyone tells me how great it was, all I see is my hands. Haha. Why am I gesturing so wildly. Truth is I am my biggest critic. I set standards for myself that are sometimes ridiculous, but at the same time these standards are what set me apart and I love that. A year ago if someone told me I'd be performing poetry in front of a crowd of people, I would've run away crying. I really have come a long way and I'm loving my brave new self. I have a week off school which is fantastic. I've promised myself I'd write one new piece, and memorize one old one. I'm yet to do either, I'm the best procrastinator you'll ever meet. Every time I update my blog, I wonder if anyone out there actually reads it. I guess it doesn't really matter, because for me it's about keeping a record of myself somewhere out there so I can look back on it from time to time. It's all about pushing boundaries and I think it's about time I started doing that. So to the invisible reader out there, go out and do something brave today :)

Stepping out

This weekend was full of activity. I'm worn out. I was asked to do a piece for Legacies '08, a black history month event being held in Calgary by a group of talented individuals known as Collectively Eclectic. I'd been so excited to do it. I had a bus ticket booked for 5:30 pm for me and 2 of my friends who are part of my step team that actually battled another team at the show. We didn't end up leaving the city till almost 7 pm. The bus driver and all the other employees at the bus station were completely unapologetic about it too. Trying to sass ME!! Man I have a few words to say to greyhound. But we finally made it there 3+ hours later and went straight to bed. The show the next day was FANTASTIC! So much talent in one room...It was just too much. I have to applaud the people who put this event together. It was just a great great great evening. African dancers, drummers, steppers, break dancers, singers etc. Good times. The poem was very well received. I completely skipped over a verse which I cried like a baby about later, but no one noticed and the reception was heart warming. My team also won the step battle which was great. I'm just really glad that I'm making such strides getting out of my shell, sharing my poetry and opening new and exciting doors for myself. Life is good :)

Here's the piece...

I am
Gap tooth girl
back corner of class
Scribbling left-handed poetry on blank paper
Save the school’s curriculum for later

I am
Overflowing ancient African
Tales by moonlight
That informal education
Connecting and overlapping
Modern history

I am
Fast and fluent Yoruba
Criss crossing English
Hidden messages in
prose and proverbs
Call it “Yorubanglish”

I am
Rich Hi-life rhythm
marrying heavy hip-hop beats
That pop lockin’, 1-2 stepping
Blended over back bending
fluid hip shaking

I am
Sky high gele
Bold and beautiful
Meets super stretch skinny jeans
Cowry shells wrapping wrists
Bright and wonderful
They call it “Afro-centric”

I am
Perfect pendulum swinging
Afro…Canadian
Legacies of age old traditions
Incantations of ancient griots
Free flowing spoken word poetry

I
cling tightly on to Africa
This land that shaped me
I watch as poverty, corruption
And lack of opportunity
Inspires creativity
And still leaves room for
Unexplainable hope
Unbelievable strength

I stand deeply rooted in its culture
Reinforced by the history in it soils
While looking on at new horizons
Blending old and new
This wonderful fusion of
Traditional
contemporary
This is who I am…

Home again

Going back home was definitely an experience. The flight was long and uncomfortable, punctuated by the anticipation of just getting there. When I finally arrived it was like something literally changed in the air, like something came alive. Anyone who has ever had the naija airport experience knows that it is one of kind. Its something like a race to finish, everyone scrambling to get through the "immigration" and somehow fight through the crowd to get their luggage. Some people have this down to an art, slip a few naira notes into a hand here or there and you could cut your waiting time in half. The entire time I am thinking, where's the fire?

I knew immediately that I was truly home. I haven't felt so completely connected to everything around me in a long time. I absolutely loved it! Its amazing how much things can change in 10 years yet remain surprisingly the same. Even though I returned for my grandfather's funeral, the biggest thing on my mind was seeing my last living grandparent. My grandmother on my father's side is all I have left in terms of grandparents and I knew I just absolutely HAD to see her. There's a greater kind of appreciation you have for your grandparents when you're able to look at them with new, more mature eyes. All her wisdom just seeps from her skin. I've never known anyone more God fearing and spiritual than my grandmother. On the drive to her house from mine, a 30 minute drive in reality, but in naija traffic 1-2 hours, I could barely contain myself. I had this fear even on the flight to Nigeria that somehow along the way, she would pass away before I got a chance to see her.

We finally arrived and I all but flew up the stairs and knocked excitedly on the door. No answer. Knocked again. Then from somewhere inside the house a small voice. She was even smaller than I remembered. Barely 5 feet tall, 100 pounds soaking wet. It's hard to imagine that someone so small and fragile has seen so much life. We sat and visited with her for a while, she wanted to know everything that's been going on our lives. Work, school, boyfriends, in order that she might pray for my sisters and I everyday like she already does. I hated having to leave her. I pray that I get to see her again soon.

My grandfather's funeral was indeed a celebration of life. One thing I love about Nigerian culture. Funerals, when it comes to those who have lived a long and fruitful life, are looked upon with joy and happiness. There was some crying, but I remember mostly dancing, laughing and fond memories. My mom asked me 2 days before my trip, to write a tribute to my grandfather to put in the program for the funeral. I struggled to do so in between packing and final exams and eventually wrote something that I'm still unsatisfied with till this day. I recently wrote a poem to express the frustration I felt about not being able to find the words.

Grandpa Igbobi

I wanted to write you a poem
Etch you bold and timeless
Wanted to sing your praise
Find words to describe you flawless
Dug deep in the recess of memory
To piece together
Smell, touch, sound

I wanted to write you a poem
Something to look back on
In remembrance
Speak of your success
Give you one last dance
Show your legacy in your
Children, grandchildren, great grandchildren

I wanted to write you a poem
Fluid and beautiful
Tell of your kindness
Show your strength
Explain your quiet nature
Describe you
Smile, suit, mahogany cane

I just couldn’t find the words
Didn’t know the things to say
To describe you
Truly and completely
I just couldn’t find the words
To paint you vibrant and wonderful

But your poetry
Is in
Yewande, Eniola, Funke,
Adeola, Abiola, Abimbola,
Funlola, Adebiyi, Somide,
Morenike, Ibilola, Afolake,
Ayodele, Olukemi, Ibilola Coker,
Taiwo, Kehinde, Dupe,
Tunde, Oluwaseun, Ayoola,
Morgan, Korede, Blake.

In me

Asa

I was just recently introduce to an artist named Asa, and my goodness! She is just a breath of fresh air, a fellow Nigerian so you know I couldn't be more proud. Her music speaks to something deep inside of me and I just can't help but love her. There is just so much talent coming out of Nigeria its amazing.
more later

Stories left unfinished...

Its been too too long, and truth be told I have no excuse. When I started this blog, I just knew I had to. But I have a habit of starting things and being very passionate about it, and then not having enough strength to finish. My blog sits on my bookmark a screaming reminder of another thing left unfinished. So much has happened since I last posted. I had been working on a poem for my grandmother who's funeral I never got to attend in Nigeria, eventually I got up the courage to share it with my friends. The day after I did that, my grandfather passed away. I didn't think I could stomach missing yet another farewell, so I headed home after almost 10 years away. It was a journey I needed to take and I savored every minute of it, this time I wanted to remember every smell, every feeling. My memory has failed me many times before, stolen from me a name, a face, some song I once loved. I really hate not remembering things. I'll have more to say about my trip back a little later.


For Mama

It must have been
White table cloth
Stiff, starched clean
Candles on home made cake
ready to be blown
Smiling faces celebrating you
Friend, sister, mother, grandmother
65 years strong

And then the heave
of quickening numbing pain
Shhh...she whispers be still
Rubbing 9 month heavy belly
Tired, hot, swollen
And even then I was too stubborn to listen
And too greedy to miss a party
So I arrived August 15, 1985
Blue faced, cord around my neck
Nothing was going to stop me
Your 65 year old face
Looking into my 5 minute old face
Thinking, child you’ve got some nerve

But you were my hero
Truly superhuman
We all called you mama
Young and old
You truly mothered us all
I only want to remember you this way
Not 85 years too tired legs
Slipping and falling on ceramic tile
Not the crunch crack of heavy hip bone
I don’t know those eyes quiet and ready
Too old to fight

I have no memory of that
Cold, lifelessness
None of trumpets
and tearful dancing
None of the thick thud
Of silt sand
On that wooden box
I only know you
Bright eyed, bubbling laughter
I only know you
Soft hands
Gentle smile
I only know you
Loving
Healing
Teaching
Mama

Life is a terminal illness

I was watching the Oprah show today. She did a segment on two people living with cancer. One of them was a man named Randy Pausch a professor at Carnegie Mellon who is dying of pancreatic cancer. He has basically been told that he has 3 - 6 months to live. Could you imagine being told that you will probably die in 3 months? What is so amazing is what he decided to do with that knowledge. Instead of the self defeat, the depression, he decided that in the short time he has left he is going to teach people how to LIVE! Truely live. In his last lecture the "Childhood Dreams Lecture" he talks about keeping that "anything is possible" attitude alive. What did you really want as a child, before the noise of everyday life.

This really got me thinking about how I live my life. Am I really living? Do the people around me know how I feel about them? Lately i've been feeling like i'm just going through the motions. Eat. Sleep. School. Eat. Sleep. Will it take the revelation of a terminal illness to get me to live, here, now. Why is that what lights the fire, when you know that it's all going to end. Watching this show made me feel a little ashamed. I'm alive, and well and not really LIVING. I have all these dreams, these things i want to do...just as soon as school is done, but why am I not just doing it. Do I really let my loved ones know that they are loved? What am i grateful for? I'm ready to take my life back in an effort to realign my attitude and really be the person I want to be. One of the guests on the show said "life is a terminal illness" and it is so true! We are all guaranteed one thing in life, death. Maybe if we looked at life as some sort of sickness we're inevitably going to die from, it'll inspire us to start living our lives now.

To love, life and everything in between.

As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death - Leonardo Da Vinci

School/theRoar

It's been much much too long... I'm back to the grind again, school started on the 5th and it's been non stop ever since. I'm in the fifth and final year of my civil engineering degree. People always ask what a person who is so inclined to the arts is doing in engineering. Truth is, I don't even know. The closer I get to this degree the more I'm begining to think that maybe I chose the wrong path. But I figure I've come this far, so I might as well finish. Then there's the issue of disappointment. Disappointment. It's like there's nothing worse in the world than someone you care about being "disappointed". I mean they could be angry, upset, sad whatever! but disappointment just has this mysterious quality, like you don't know exactly what they're thinking. Scary really. Other than that, I actually love being back at school, I love the community of it.

What about in poetry world? well i've really been making strides. My last post was about my appearance in the poetree, soon after that I sent an email to one of the organizers of a spoken word festival called "The Roar". I basically asked to be in it, and to my surprise he said I was in. The Roar is basically like a poetry pub crawl. They have poets in different time blocks performing at different locations in the downtown area. My set was called the "Java Sevens" seven poets at a Java Express. So I walk in and there are these poets who have been published in 50 different books, who've read at the roar 500 times lol. And then there's me...
Spoken word performances to date: 1.5
Publications: 0
Yeah I was scared. I brought a lot of friends and family with me though, I definitely needed the moral support. They wanted me to do a 10 minute set, 10 minutes!! I'm thinking to myself, who wants to hear me ramble for 10 minutes!! oh the horror! So I took 3 poems with me @ about 2mins each, and I figured I would ramble through the remaining 4mins and maybe I'd be so wildy entertaining that they wouldn't notice that I was stalling. Well they called me up, and as one of the other poets later said I went "into my poems" I did the "Pandemic" poem followed by "Darfur" and then finished with "African-ness".

People actually liked it! The other poets came up to me after the show to tell me how beautiful it was, and that I should keep performing. It was more than I could've EVER expected. I'm so happy!! I feel like this was such an important thing for me to do. If i could do this then i'm capable of anything. I'm in one of those I can conquer the world moods today. So yeah, that's all for now. I like to pretend that people actually read my blog haha! It's therapeutic in a way. More later!