I gave green light kisses on her eyelashes

to confirm that we were

birthed from memory.

romantic she told me when I wasn’t next to her que:

“tu me haces mucha falta.”

instead of swooning

I translate literally

“I find you missing.”

Worried I am her lack I say

“why don’t you go save the stars?”

Running so I don’t have to face what’s in between.

Sick from the potential I lost her

stuck in the fun house mirror of my dysfunctional misery.

I missed her.

too.

caught between the shoulds. If then. have should.

means harder.

My heart valves flicker, lungs reach

capacity praying for more chest space.

the fight means releasing.

Imperfect beautiful should

confront the magic instead of wanting to flee.

Writer meets air. showing up. fist open.

essential intention. not your savior.

destroying the foundation cause

it’s beneath you. shades people carry as sym

bolic offering.

mind

lost.

again.

not speaking cause of a message too fly to catch.

a contract to cut the junk food lines.

leave laziness behind

even when she gets fast on you.

We here

forming a ritual that helps bring out the truth.

defense shield behind. strength and wisdom

to gather more strength and wisdom.

Redemption transforms I hear.

the honesty in the poet circle is what informs the heart broken.

If I could see her again I would say

thank you for permission.

seeing the god in me when I most wanted to disappear

for tools that work outside this room.

especially for holding silence.

for releasing sweaty palms pushing.

no control over uncomfortable  story.

I am working on betrayed definitions.

a narrowing. a moment that happened before.

staying away from short term symptom relief.

Asking the same questions hoping for no answers. the story remains

a glimmer. that way you learn

and for the sake of all we’ll retire the use of ancestors as a crutch

quit enabling their dysfunction in the afterlife.

bridging slow with tools from the magic room.
A poet in recovery.

I have to admit that sometimes my words aren't always so carefully chosen. Sometimes I rely too heavily on the inspiration in the moment, the  pressure to mark time, my intuitive rhythms and the relief of writing something new to share right away. I want so desperately to hold on to those instances even if they aren't the best words for the job. The trained eye can see this but my defenses kick in and want to fight those trained eyes because most of them don't seem to care about my growth or my unique voice. They just want to show off what their experience tells them about my choice of words, slashing phrases without regard to their energy.

I am mistrustful of poets and writers (especially in power positions) who don't show emotion about how serious these exchanges of energies are. If you don't take my work seriously no matter your tastes, or the judgement you have of my work or lack of understanding of my cultural context I will most likely build a wall to protect myself. And there have been many walls built in anticipation of this experience. I thought maybe this was a toughening necessary for those of us that put our work up for critique but it hasn't made me a better writer. It has built some walls into my work.

I see your defenses too. The way you'll confess how you prefer one type of poetry over another, how you are not a performer or your poetry's not for the page or how poetry's not really your thing or how you just write for yourself. Dear you. All cop outs. Tell yourself what you need to if you want to stay where you are but know I am aware of all of these because I am guilty of a few. Right here right now I give you permission to do what it is you have been meaning to do but then of course you're accountable to keep at it. None of this well I've always been an underachiever b.s. either. I don't believe the stories you have been telling yourself. I know it's painful to move in a different direction but it hurts even more when you are stuck. I'm telling this to myself just as much as I am to you.

Friends and Colleagues!
Hope to see you at this brand spanking new production next week!

This is not your typical theater – it’s a hands on show that invites the audience to interact directly with the performers and sets. The show references historic World’s Fairs and marketplaces to explore the creation of polarities between the global north and south, and as a forum through which cultural mythologies and ethnographic fantasies are birthed and mediated. And the show also promises to be playful, sexy and bold and features a very talented lineup of drag stars, dancers, theater makers, circus performers and musical virtuosos.

There is limited audience capacity each night because we want the audience to experience the show and subject matter in an intimate setting. So get your tickets now if you haven’t!

Advance tickets at http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/111351

**************************

Check out Rio’s page here for our adventures in hybrid protest purikura: the fight for justice and glitter. A much-needed creative release of steam. (I think I just mixed metaphors or sayings…I blame my father and his play with language

You know, I will never understand why no one has any problem studying brown people as exotic animals through Anthropology and Archeology….and Ethnic Studies is under attack…What are you afraid of? Knowing one’s own history is necessary. Colonized peoples speaking for themselves is invaluable. Oh history. Oh the untold versions of the story. Oh pseudo post racial society. Oh “color blindness” as excuse to ignore what makes you uncomfortable about the complex world we live in. Like Angry Asian Man says here “Ethnic Studies are American Studies.”

I hear the students are ready to get some love and healing after a really rough time.
There has been continued harassment and homophobic vandalism around these types of events targeting the work these fierce students do to create safe spaces at Davis so send your supporters  and send good vibes!

“Confrontando Nuestro Dolor y Reclamando Nuestros Espacios en la Comunidad”

Queer Latinidad is a program during La Raza Cultural Days
and aims to celebrate, honor and increase visibility of the
intersections within the Chicana/o Latina/o Community
and Queer Community.

Thursday April 29, 2010
7 pm-10pm
ARC Ballroom
UC Davis
Performances will include:
- Monologues by La Familia de UC Davis
- Maya Chinchilla performing an excerpt from “Love is for Suckers in the Borderlands”
- “JotActivista: Mano Que Apunta a La Tierra” by Xuanito Espinoza-Cuellar

For more information, please contact Carla Lopez at cclopez@ucdavis.edu

Third Root presents a Saturday afternoon of solo theater performance in collaboration with Joyce Gordon Gallery’s Women’s History month installation, “For Colored Girls Only” in Oakland!

406 14th St

Oakland, CA

=========================

*Saturday, March 27th, 3-6pm*

3-4pm view the amazing art

4-6pm solo performances

Solo Performance Artists: Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner ~ “Iep Jeltok: Woman a Bountiful Basket”

Maya Chinchilla ~ Excerpt from “Love is for Suckers in the Borderlands: From emo tomboy to cha cha Chapina femme, an undercover romantic sings and dances her way through lovers, trying to avoid being all tragic and shit, meanwhile figuring out what to do with this bridge on her back.”

Lisa Marie Rollins ~ excerpt from “Ungrateful Daughter,” a story of one black girl’s experience being adopted into a white family… that aren’t celebrities.

Coke Tani Nakamoto ~ excerpt from “Soft Tissue”

$5-10 sliding scale donation as a part of: “For Colored Girls Only” A Celebration of all Women and a tribute to WOMENS History MONTH at Joyce Gordon Gallery Full Exhibition is February 12 – March 28, 2010 For Colored Girls only A celebration of women from all color, size, age, gender, local and international as a form of politics/non-politics & as a body of thought. Erasing the indistinct lines of class, gender and geography, and celebrating even the contradicting facets of womanhood. Group Exhibition Featuring : Addiam Tsehaye, Angela Angel & Robin David, Angela Silva, Ashley Eberlien, Atiba Sylvia Thomas, Barbara Aliza, Bethanie Hines, Clarisse Fulgado, Constance Terrel, Dimeng X. Brehmer, Elizabeth Carter, Hiroko To, Jeannie Dragon, Kameelah J. Rasheed, Katie Richardson, Kim Mason, Latisha Baker,Letitia Ntofon, Lisa Jean DeSoto, Maash Pascal, Maggie Yee, Marguerite Browne, Marilyn Lacy, Melissa Kreisa & Marilyn Lacey, Michele de Mendaire, Mildred Thompson, Favianna Rodriguez, Mina Marquette, Nicole Hsiang, Orlonda Uffre, Paula Craig Steel, Rosalyn Parhams, Rozita S. Folgeman, Sally Moore, Saska Smith, Shirlee Perlow, Susan Mathews, Talita Suassuna Brandao, Tomeekha Pitre, Jessica Seran,Viva H.VanAssen, Zahava Sherrez ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Solo Performer Bios:

Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner ~ Kathy Jetnil Kijiner is a poet, writer, and spoken word artist. Born in the Marshall Islands and raised in Hawaii, her work focuses on illuminating her people’s struggles and her own struggle as a young, feminist Marshall Islander. She represented Youthspeaks Hawaii in 2006, has been named Winner of the Mary Merritt Henry Undergraduate Poetry Contest in 2008 & 2009, and recently finished a summer at Voices of Our Nations Arts foundation (VONA) at UCSF. She is in her last semester at Mills College in Oakland, obtaining a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing. Simultaneously, she has been working as a Student Teacher Poet with Poetry for the People at UC Berkeley for the past two years. She recently finished her first chapbook, a collection of poetry entitled Iep Jeltok: Woman a Bountiful Basket.

Maya Chinchilla ~ Maya is a Central American/Guatemalan poet performer, video artist, and educator. A two-spirit humble diva, she is one third of the performance group Las Manas Tres, and a renaissance woman who has enjoyed organizing events and showcasing artists who investigate and celebrate the intersection of politics, media and art over the years. She founded and co-edited La Revista, Santa Cruz and has published her work in Las Girlfriends, Americas y Latinas, Mujeres de Maiz, Sinister Wisdom and the upcoming Turtle Island to Abya Yala: A Love Anthology of Art and Poetry by Native American and Latina Women. As well as directing ’MADE IN BRAZIL: Dreams at Work, she directed THE LAST WORD about Las Manas, a fierce women of color spoken word crew, and associate produced the award-winning documentary Reading Between the Rhymes, about the use of hip hop in education. She also produced, shot and edited the videos for the live theater show Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet. Currently Maya is working on a book of poetic non-fiction, solo performance pieces, new writing with LM3 through a Oakland Arts Grant and an MFA in creative writing at Mills College.

Coke Tani Nakamoto ~ COLLEEN “Coke” TANI NAKAMOTO is a dancer, writer and solo performer, curious about where words meet the body. Excerpts of her current project, “Soft Tissue” under the direction of W. Kamau Bell and the Solo Performance Workshop, featured locally at the 2008 New Year’s Eve Solo-Tacular, the 2009 San Francisco Theater Festival, Words First, and APICC/Eth-Noh-Tec’s Slam! Bam! Story Jam!. A 2003 PEN Rosenthal Emerging Voices Fellow, she is also delighted to be a member of the Wing It! Performance Ensemble. Her recent joy has been to join an all-API cast of The Vagina Monologues at the Herbst Theater (after being denied a similar opportunity in LA–where her vagina wasn’t celebrity enough!).

Este Cuerpo es Mio: No se Toca. No Se Viola. No Se Mata!

Consent. Learn about it.

Humanity. Teach about it.

Self determination. Be about it.

Third Root presents an afternoon of solo theater performance in collaboration with Joyce Gordon Gallery’s Women’s History month installation, “For Colored Girls Only” in Oakland!

Saturday, March 27th, 3-6pm
3-4pm view the amazing art
4-6pm solo performances

Solo Performance Artists:
Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner
Maya Chinchilla
Lisa Marie Rollins
Coke Tani Nakamoto
(and more!)

$5-10 sliding scale donation

as a part of:

“For Colored Girls Only”
A Celebration of all Women
and a tribute to WOMENS History MONTH
at Joyce Gordon Gallery
406 14th St
Oakland, CA
Full Exhibition is February 12 – March 28, 2010
For Colored Girls only

A celebration of women from all color, size, age, gender, local and international as a form of politics/non-politics & as a body of thought. Erasing the indistinct lines of class, gender and geography, and celebrating even the contradicting facets of womanhood.

Group Exhibition Featuring : Addiam Tsehaye, Angela Angel & Robin David, Angela Silva, Ashley Eberlien, Atiba Sylvia Thomas, Barbara Aliza, Bethanie Hines, Clarisse Fulgado, Constance Terrel, Dimeng X. Brehmer, Elizabeth Carter, Hiroko To, Jeannie Dragon, Kameelah J. Rasheed, Katie Richardson, Kim Mason, Latisha Baker,Letitia Ntofon, Lisa Jean DeSoto, Maash Pascal, Maggie Yee, Marguerite Browne, Marilyn Lacy, Melissa Kreisa & Marilyn Lacey, Michele de Mendaire, Mildred Thompson, Favianna Rodriguez, Mina Marquette, Nicole Hsiang, Orlonda Uffre, Paula Craig Steel, Rosalyn Parhams, Rozita S. Folgeman, Sally Moore, Saska Smith, Shirlee Perlow, Susan Mathews, Talita Suassuna Brandao, Tomeekha Pitre, Jessica Seran,Viva H.VanAssen, Zahava Sherrez

I wish I could sign up for punctual intellectual/em-BODY-ied know-ledge pep talks/instant messages/texts/email blasts/ like signing up for daily horoscopes.

I’d also like to slash and dash through the (parenthetical) identity spaces of hyphenated name calling and come up with daily trans-national decolonial anti-oppression dance moves that reinvigorate our daily missions.

I wish we could engage at each others levels until everyone felt heardbut barely said a word and you wouldn’t interrupt my stutter because you think you know better.

I wish revolutionary self-care were a required subject in high school.

I wish I got more hugs in a day and that respectful eye contact from above/ below/in-between were a given.

I wish I could space-time travel to the exact locations where I am wanted, needed, effective and just to bear witness.

I wish I could remember that love is what I was born to do.

I wish loneliness would quit arguing with intimacy about silence and make amends with time.

I wish the burden of discipline came out in syncopated song harmonies even when the clouds hide the sun.

I wish polite anger and so-called irrational outbursts could double date with guilty repressed self hate and recognized- privileged-solidarity.

I wish I could eat your tears with rainbow kisses and quench my thirst for 8 daily glasses of balance, self-determination and growth.

I wish I could archive our knowledge of pain, self-destruction and manifest destiny, to only revisit when I needed a reminder of how far we’ve come.

I wish everyone got credit for the work they’ve done and extra credit for fleeting thoughts, mediation meditation and verbs that bridge the chasms.

I wish I had a big glitter filled pen to write in the names where the documents left you out over and over until everyone had their say, exhausting the possibilities, only taking a union break for healthy snacks and structured consensual affection.

I wish we weren’t in competition with crumbs and that we could form a new Voltron-being anytime we needed to call on each others powers. I wish hibernation didn’t draw attention to your absence.

I wish I could give degrees in harmony, spirit and collective progress and that you/I understood my/our herstory like I know yours/theirs.

I wish I didn’t loose my breath when I/you need to speak my/your truth. I wish the powerful had to play rainy day games to remind them that they are small.

I wish lovemaking gave birth to the earth’s breath evenly distributing health, sustenance and star shine to those who are hungry in the love vacuum.

I wish intellect didn’t make emotions feel less than. I wish release valves were built by prisoners insight into hierarchy towers of pressed chests gasping oppression.

I wish we were required to renew ceremony every time like car registrations, library books or TV seasons.

I wish every status knew each speck has its place, that updates were more than a wish that created shelter from the norm’s storm.

I wish I could draw mathematical equations out of recycled materials that gave us all we need.

I wish inspiration never ran out of battery.

I wish I could say, dance, sing, be all the words/visions/theories/encyclopedias/flesh I/You need to hear, see, touch, be.