Flashback

As I mentioned Wednesday, my agenda for the week included attending a poetry reading at my former high school. It was a lovely thing, so far from my ordinary nights out, though now that I have thought about it, the kind of thing I used to do frequently in high school. My dear, recently reacquainted-with friend Alicia is a fierce and talented poet. It was thrilling to hear her read/perform her work. Being back in the T.A. library was a bit disorienting, rather like accidentally finding forgotten pictures of yourself taken years ago. Your own life goes on changing, and the life of a school goes on, practically unchanged, without you after you have left.

I met a few people there that I hadn't seen in a long time, including a former teacher. He was
there as part of the poetry group, reading his work. I think I vaguely knew that he wrote poetry when I was his student, but had never heard or read any of it. Most of it was about Vietnam-- hilarious, sad, angry, laced with profanity. He did point out a number of times that it wasn't HIS profanity, mostly quotations from drill sargeants and fellow G.I.s. I think he was trying to preserve decorum in front of so many former students. He has not lost the habit of interrupting himself reading every so often to expand upon a particular word or follow a tangent or fill in background information, a habit I remember well from English class and play practice.

So many people I knew in high school are still pursuing their music/art/poetry/writing in a big way. To stick with these things outside of the built-in audience of teachers and classrooms-- it amazes me and shames me a bit. This whole world still exists where people remember me as an actress and remind me of poems I wrote how many years ago-- I kind of brushed up against it again. It's pretty comfortable here off stage, writing about ugly shoes and knitting to entertain myself and a few of my friends. How much harder to make things without regard to getting paid or even having a crowd show up to see or hear you.