Two Thousand Thirteen 2 0 1 3 what can I say…it was a wonderful year. Here’s a year in review, photo style. (and if you click on the photos, it should take you to more photos) The Bluebird Reading Series started off strong in '13 with the first reading of the year featuring Corrie Greathouse, Melissa Alvarado, Peggy Dobreer, and Bonnie S. Kaplan!! We then welcomed guest hosts Hinchas de Poesia who brought in Billy Burgos, Bojan Luis, Yago Cura and Annette Cruz.
- an excerpt, in progress
The deepest shades of her white, with translucent eyes and longish wheat blonde hair. The richest shades of his black, with soft masculine curls and eyes to stare forever into. This is half of me, the other half taken from the sands of faraway make believe lands, with distant languages that have no use for simple new-world letters but that we still study so as to never forget. These worlds melt into shades of my brown. Of their brown, of our brown. A shade of brown that makes up fifty-seven percent of this cities population. A brown that another fifteen percent of this cities population considers white...but will always be brown. But brown is not a color, unless we've been forced to wonder who we are and where we're from...and when we're from. Brown is not a color, unless the black, white and gold disappear into shame. Brown is not a color, unless we choose to let those other shades of white eclipse any remnants of our courage and life rooted in this lands history. Brown is not a color, unless they tell us it is. I wish he would have told me that to learn his language would require a tongue wet with a certain desire to love those who will one day leave us behind. I wish he would have told me, before today became too late.
It takes hard work to know how to be sad. It's like learning to drive a car...that drives your life to it's next destination. And with so many stops along the way, strength and courage can roll down the window...let some air in. But it takes our entire being to get out of the car, and take in the view. And it only matters when we're ready. And we're only ready when we let our love consume us.
Eleven years ago, when the time came to adopt a dog, I did a good amount of research. I remember the books pointing out all of the characteristics of a dog "well-suited" for adoption. 1. Make sure he gives you eye contact 2. When they let him out of the kennel, he should be curious, but beware the signs of nervousness 3. The dog should be happy, willing to walk on a leash So I visited all the shelters, looking for little Mr. or Mrs. Perfect. I'll never forget walking into the South Central Animal Shelter. Each dog kennel stuffed with dogs as if they were sardines, most of them pit bulls. But one kennel was stuffed with the little dogs, with maybe one or two timid but larger breeds thrown in. And there he was...shy, timid and a loner...wanting nothing all to do with the other dogs. 1. Couldn't look anyone in eye, actually turned his head when you'd look is direction. 2. Was so shaky and nervous, he pee'd on my shoe the moment he exited the kennel. 3. He was terrified and wouldn't let us put a leash on him. Perfectly imperfect, sickly, untrained, miserable. It was love at first sight. And after the doctors got him healthy, he quickly became our little partner in crime. Trips to Joshua Tree, camping in Big Sur, and trips to his favorite dog beaches. I'm sure his favorite memory was the drive to Alaska where he stayed with me for a year to hike snowy mountains, run from moose and dig his nose into pebble beaches scrounging for fish. Of course if I followed the advice of professionals I would've had a trainable dog, one that didn't snap after asking for some affection, or that wouldn't run the opposite direction after calling him. But then, I wouldn't have had the puppy my mom would lovingly call "a spitting image of you, Jessica," with his abundance of energy, fearless attitude and ...refined palate. Well, refined until we moved to DTLA and he developed a panache for grabbing anything on the street, that might be food-related. That's the Sebastian I want to remember, the fiesty and fun little guy who loved road trips, watching basketball games and who's favorite past time was laying in the sun. I hope to soon forget the Sebastian who couldn't walk six feet without panting, who couldn't sleep because it was uncomfortable for him to lay down with a heart his size and who couldn't stand the sun. And I'll definitely forget those congested coughs that lasted as long as his energy let them. And thank goodness for an amazing vet who made this last road trip of his as peaceful as possible for all of us, the good memories are richer because of it.
The kid had a great life. I wasn't always the greatest mom, my life is nuts...if he were alive he would tell you all about it, in his own words. But he was loved, and more importantly, he brought a lively kind of love into mine, into ours. Thank you Sebastian, for letting this crazy lady into your life, and for bringing something resembling motherhood, into mine. “The key to organizing an alternative society is to organize people around what they can do and more importantly, what they want to do.” I’m back in full swing, from an amazing weekend. Amazing weekends are easy to pull off when they start on the right foot, and I think I’m getting good at helping to make that possible. Saturday afternoon’s Poesia Para La Gente (PPLG) went a little different this time around. What we usually do is hold a reading, and maybe allow for some “open mic” time, inviting the public to participate. But this time I thought to try an experiment in writing poetry on-demand, the popular literary performance that gets poets closer to their audience by writing a poem for them “on demand.” The difference was that I wanted to change the medium that the poem was to be written on, not just to make it exciting but also to experiment with perception and communication. And it’s the holidays so why not incorporate some giving, why not solicit donations?! And it worked! It was amazing from the start. Of course there’s always the very beginning, the moment everyone arrives…when we wonder what’s next. But that’s my favorite part, when everybody finds their place and I can see in their eyes that they “get” it…the reason why we all agree to do this. And that’s when the excitement begins.
|
AuthorJessica Ceballos Categories
All
Archives
January 2019
|