sunday blues

Greetings. It is an extremely hot Sunday afternoon and I have a desire to speak, but not verbally. Do you ever get those days when you just don't feel like talking? Well, I do. Easier to type than speak, so here goes.

As usual, the weekend has flown by and it is back to the job tomorrow, with the regular stresses of the rat race. This weekend was interesting ... my father came to visit, with my stepmother, so I was being host, good son and intellectual, all at the same time. Plus, I did something I haven't done before, but hope it will be more regular in times to come - i had two gigs on one day.

The first was an MC and poetry thing at a San Heritage Festival out near the Cradle of Mankind. Long dusty road, hot sun and I ended up doing two links and one poem to a handful of people. When I was leaving, more people were arriving so I am assuming things picked up after I left. It was a fascinating lesson in race mechanics in South Africa. Took Daddy along and we spent the whole time trying to make sense of the fact that it is white South Africans (well, at least in this space) who seem to dominate the attempts to draw attention to African culture. Too much going on in my head to be able to break it down, but I was surrounded by a potpourri of dye&dye shirts, drumming, etc that seemed to be a mixture of Shamanic (Native American) symbolism and African (can't really place it into one culture, considering how many African cultures exist) desire.

Black Africans were in short supply and were primarily there to do some performance or another or, as was the case with one brother I met, to try and score white chicks. The man had the whole thing going with a Swazi clothe over his shoulder, the walking stick, some beads and skins around his head.... for a minute, I thought he might be a sangoma but when chatting, I discovered he has three kids in Lesotho, is a Zulu and was eyeing the ladies, with relative success.

Don't get the wrond idea .... I commend the organisers for what they are attempting to do, which is to draw attention to the plight of the San people, who continue to be treated with disdain in this part of the world, which does not reflect their position of being the closest to the original man/woman. In some ways, their circumstance seems to mirror that of Native Americans. The desire of the organisers to ensure that these people do not continue to be mariginalised in their home is absolutely necessary ... it just seemed like one was walking into a 'club' where you don't know anyone and are not sure how to act or interact .... and, a club that does not reflect the full spectrum of SA society. Question is: where are black South Africans? Are they doing the same but separately, or are they just not doing anything?

Anyway, went to the opposite extreme from there and performed at a corporate awards ceremony in the evening. Theme was: African, but there were suuits everywhere. Drummers at the entrance who absolutely rocked but were considered more background music as you walked up the red carpet, than the beauty and creativity they expressed. Despite the seemingly conventional setup that one can expect from corporate events, it reminded me of why I love going out and sharing my work. Professionally run, perfect sound, captive audience, wonderful energy and a desire to open themselves up to new things. I was home by 20h00 revitalised and boistered.

It is my theory that the only way poets will be treated with professionalism and courtesy is if we take ourselves seriously and act like professionals. The performance element has put us in the entertainment arena, to a certain extent, and, in competing for work with singers, dancers, actors, etc, we need to change our approach to the way we work. We need to delve more into the business of being artists. The treatment I received at the corporate event re-emphasised this for me.

That's it for me today. Will be posting some information on happenings in the poetry and arts scene, primarily around Joburg, during the week so come back. Going to gradually shift my e-newsletter, Playing With Words, into this realm.

easy

where are we going?

Still stumbling my way through the whole Blogging experience, but learning something new is always fun. Don't worry, sooner or later, i will get the hang of it and then its on. Until then, please bare (yes, that was intentional - lay your spirit bare) and bear with me. This is actually such as self-serving experience - a space to say whatever you want, when you want. makes me feel relevant, although 'speaking' does necessarily imply that someone is 'listening'.

Anyway, for those of you in the Johannesburg region, come through to the San Heritage Festival starting tonight and running through to Sunday. Don't know what I have done with the details so contact Berno on 073 883 5328 for information. I will be MCing a portion of the programme as well as performing tomorrow afternoon.

Also, there is a musical experience going down on Sunday evening at Gallery 181 in Kya-Sands starting at around 4pm. The Soulbird World Music Concert is a Sunday afternoon "bring a picnic" concert featuring El Hadj Djiop, master Senegalese percussionist and drummer, Courtney Ward-Hofinger, Makati Molekwa and Christopher Tokalon. They are an awesome band and the Gallery is an amazing experience with beautiful sculptures dotting the whole space. Tickets are R50 and you can call (011) 708 2116.

Gallery 181 is becoming the new spot for events, etc and I will be having some poetry events there, starting end of October. It is time we broke out from beyond the traditional poetry spaces in this city. While Newtown serves as a cultural precinct, the Word needs to infiltrate all aspects of society and, to do this, we need to break out of the box. The love of Word is not limited to students and rastas and those who exist on the fringes of our world. The mountain needs to start travelling to Mohammed and poetry being perceived as an 'underground' art form needs to end. To me, being underground means struggling to survive and having a limited audience, which doesn't make sense. I assume that once we start to pursue our art form as a career, the intention is to share it with as many people as possible .... all underground gives you is the same faces and the same people every day, every show. Soon we will be talking about 'keeping it real' in poetry and I think it was Busta Rhymes who said 'keeping it real sounds more like keeping it hungry'.

I am ranting, aren't I? Having one of those days when I struggle to remember why I continue to pursue the Word. Would be easier to have it as a hobby and fully join the rat race, defining my routine for the rest of my breathing years:

mechanical zombies clutter pavements, and office blocks, blindly following the worn path, the fork in the road a figment of a dreamer's imagination, and dreams are for the insignificant, who chase a reality that can never exist, is this all there is, wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, go to work, tea break, lunch break, go home, watch telly, go to sleep, the cycle begins again, and again, and again, and again........?

Okay, want to leave this alone for now ....

The new wonder boy of hip hop seems to be Khanye West, a suburban middle-class raised man breaking into the Bling-Bling, Gangsta world of Rap. Just received a copy of an article from The Guardian about him and recently read an article in Time magazine. The common thread is how Khanye is bringing an element of social consciousness into the hip hop realm. He hasn't been a hustler, a drug dealer, a gangsta and, therefore, reflects this in his work.... he also recently openly criticised George Bush for the US Government's slow reaction to the Katrina disaster.

This has got me thinking about the state of poetry in Joburg. It does seem to be a bit of the opposite. If your poetry is not about political consciousness, 'chanting down babylon', fighting the system, there seems to be a perception that you aren't being true to the African cause. In everything we do, there seems to always be a desire to push a particular state at the expense of others. Whatever happened to human beings as multi-layered creatures with the desire to explore all elements of this thing called life?

In the beginning

In the beginning
there was sound

sound broken into growls
grunts
which became words
sentences
paragraphs
each word given meaning
representing material
action
emotion
thought
translated into sound

Greetings, my first ever post. The beginning of a journey with an unknown destination. Going through some doubts as to the direction I am pursuing with my life. Having made a commitment to the pursuit of Word (poetry), I have found that the existence as a financially secure poet is close to impossible, especially in South Africa. Following a stint as a full-time freelancer, I returned to the corporate realm to create balance, and instead tipped the scale even further. The irony of it all. The security of a salary gives me the space to do all the things i want to do in poetry, but cuts into the time required to do all the things i want to do. But, I continue to believe that the universe will give direction and provide for me ..... what else is there to believe in?

I shouldn't complain too much, should I? I am fortunate enough to have the performance realm available to me for release and the next two weeks look like they are going to be good to me. Got about four bookings to perform at various events and I am putting on a show in about 10 days time. This weekend, I do a San Festival, an event to honour the San people who, while being widely acknowledged as the roots from which the human tree grew, continue to be treated hideously. On the same day, I perform at a corporate awards ceremony - talk about total contrast.

One of my pet gripes is the fact that poets are not treated with the professional respect they deserve. When booking a musician, or singer, or actor, event people tend to expect to deal with issues like fees, and contracts, and briefs .... with poets, it is all about exposure. The number of events I have performed at (and turned down) that were supposed to provide exposure ..... hell, at this rate, i will become totally over-exposed and broke (okay, weak analogy, but i am sure you get the gist of it). While most poets speak their truth - in what is the purest art form to exist - once we get into the performance arena, all we ask for is the same professional courtesy as other artists.

I ramble and I guess this space is to feed my ego's need for a space to do so, so let us continue.

Oh, you don't really know who I am, do you? Perhaps that is best for now, we can get to know each other as we go.... let's not kill the mystery so early.

Always wanted to setup a Blog and could never find the reason to do so. Now that I have, I still don't know the reason. Would be tragic (and amusing) if this experience fizzles into nothingness like so many other things I have tried to initiate. Tried to setup a discussion forum for people in the Johannesburg poetry scene - 10 subscribers and 5 posts in six months. I have a e-newsletter called Playing With Words that I send out to about 100 people - supposed to be every two weeks, but has ended up being every six weeks. Thinking of taking that and putting it in this space ... we'll see. i am the eternal starter - all fired up when i start things. I run out of steam as it goes, especially when it doesn't turn out the way I expected.

I have no expectations for this journey, which should help.

"run suicides / word by word / line by line / lately i see the world in black and white / because colour hurts my eyes / reflections of dreams broken leave me tongue-tied / shackled to the possibility of tomorrow / hindsight nightmarish / often i speak for the sake of speaking / when my mouth moves / my thoughts are shelved temporarily / i think i dream reality / and live in fantasy fraying at the seams ......"

I will do that a lot .... write irrelevant verse ..... excuse the messiness of the layout and formatting, it will get better as I figure out how to do everything.
easy runnings