I was Chaptered, was Versed

“I am an audio recorder. Last night I was one of three of my kind sitting propped in estranged locations around the basement room of the south-ish Philadelphia’s Chapterhouse Cafe and Gallery. Amidst human beings of all sorts I got to hear and save poetic readings by Hailey Higdon, Jenn McCreary, and Ethan Fugate. There was humor. There was chill. There was transience and transport. As usual the turn-out was good and so were the smiles. I think you’ll like what I’ve come up with. Please visit my personal website to gain access to these important documents. You can either stream them or you can download them.”

Download via this page.

Stream by clicking on any of the tracks below:

01 – Hailey Higdon pt 1
02 – Hailey Higdon pt 2
03 – Jenn McCreary pt 1
04 – Jenn McCreary pt 2
05 – Announcements
06 – Ethan Fugate pt 1
07 – Ethan Fugate pt 2
08 – Ethan Fugate pt 3

Spooky Success

Yesterday evening, Halloween, our beloved Philadelphia poetry friends, the Suppose an Eyes group, had a reading. The reading took place outside the Woodlands Cemetery main building. The format was a round-robin style performance on the steps of the Drexel family’s mausoleum. There were lanterns, not a lot of light, a lot of bats, and rain. The rain was calming at first, but quickly escalated to intolerable, and so the audience made the exodus indoors. The Suppose an Eyes poets finished off in a splendidly vigorous mode, their words haunting, crushing, quiet, loud, and poignant.

Then the lovely organizer of this particular event, Francesca Costanzo, introduced Debrah Morkun and I as performing representatives of the New Philadelphia Poets. Debrah read a poem by our dear fellow NPPer Sarah Heady, and then jumped into her newest work on breath-poetics, Ida Pingala. Following her, I closed the reading out with some poems on murder and the process of murdering and the fantasy of murder, as well as some stuff I’ve been writing while working at Olney High School West, and some poems on metaphorical/metaphysical monsters that we human types all tend to deal with.

The turnout was great. The audience was very diverse and attentive the entire evening. The refreshments were great. I remember some candy corn that was shaped like corn and tasted like bananas. And peanut butter cups that weren’t made by Reese’s. The use of this unique space was impressive and admirable. I really hope that more innovation continues. As my second reading as a feature here in Philadelphia, I couldn’t have asked for more–except that more of the New Philadelphia Poets could have taken to the stage with me–but next time for sure! My thanks go out to the Suppose an Eyes group, as well as friends and strangers who attended the reading. I can’t wait to see what comes next!

Oh yeah–the entire evening was recorded. The outdoor portions do not have “excellent” quality, but can be heard if you turn the volume up real loud so that the speakers are smoking like a chimney. The indoor segments are much better in quality and you shouldn’t have a problem enjoying the entirety. The movement from outdoor to indoor, and the “surprise history lesson” we were graced with at the end of the night, were included for psycho-social-politico-religio perusal.

The tracklisting for the evening is as follows:

01: Suppose an Eyes Outside pt 1 (9:35)
02: Suppose an Eyes Outside pt 2 (9:39)
03: Suppose an Eyes Outside pt 3 (4:33)
04: Great Transition (8:21)
05: Suppose an Eyes Inside (5:16)
06: NPP Introduction and Debrah Morkun pt 1 (4:36)
07: Debrah Morkun pt 2 (7:49)
08: Greg Bem pt 1 (9:44)
09: Greg Bem pt 2 (8:06)
10: Closing Remarks and a History Lesson (3:25)

Go to this directory page to browse and download the recordings, which are available in MP3 format.

Thanks to Jeff Brennan for manning the recording device; thanks to Adam Meora for not begging me get the device back to him just yet.

Also, this is the broadside I designed for the reading. It was distributed among the audience right before I went on. It features my friend Jen Washington whose hand pose represents a zombie claw.

(click for full size)

Questions, comments, or complaints? Okay.

My Chapter and Verse Recording

Last Saturday, Jena Osman, Craig Watson, and Michael Gizzi read down at the Chapterhouse Cafe. The reading series, Chapter and Verse, is every other week. This past weekend’s reading was probably the biggest turnout I’ve ever seen; it was also, strangely enough, the worst weather I’ve ever encountered during one of the readings. I enjoyed the reading thoroughly–Jena read about the word “joker” (a response to the Encyclopedia Project); Craig read many poems from a couple different books (one that stuck out was about the calendar the last man left alive on earth creates); and Michael read from his new book, New Depths of Deadpan. An assorted, fun-filled evening.

I know there are a couple other recordings floating around . . . 3D surround sound recording anthology, anyone? Thanks Adam Meora for the audio device.

Click here to browse the files on the hosting site.

You can click on any of the following links to download the tracks individually:

01 – Banter

02 – Jena Osman pt 1

03 – Jena Osman pt 2

04 – Craig Watson pt 1

05 – Craig Watson pt 2

06 – Michael Gizzi pt 1

07 – Michael Gizzi pt 2

If you have any questions or problems with the files, email me directly.

Come, Sit and Listen to great poetry
of both the living and the dead!

Suppose an Eyes Poetry Group
presents
An All Hallows Poetic Eve
with special guests
The New Philadelphia Poets!

What better way to experience Halloween than in
The Woodlands Cemetery
listening to poetry and poetic story-telling

Saturday, October 31, 2009

6:30 – 8:00 with reception following the reading

The Woodlands Cemetery
4000 Woodland Avenue
Philadelphia (University City)

$5 / per person
Bring a Flashlight
Wear warm clothing
FREE parking on cemetery grounds
FREE REFRESHMENTS following the reading

for more information, contact:   cesca.costanzo@gmail.com

Brother Ali Article

In the latest Origivation magazine you can find my article/interview with Minneapolis hip hop artist Brother Ali. You can download the .pdf online edition here, for free.

Little Berlin Book Fair

Today at Little Berlin, a nice warehouse artist space over in the Fishtown/South Kensington area, there was a great book fair. Book makers, artists, and writers of all types displayed and sold their work. The New Philadelphia Poets had a table set up with broadsides, chapbooks, books, and some oddities that culminated in a powerful display. I got to man the table with Carlos Soto Roman and Debrah Morkun for a bit. Despite the lack of sales, there were plenty of visitors, and it was a strangely revelatory experience seeing so much binding talent represented. Here are some of the pictures of our table from the event:

Muffled Voice and Balanced Vision

We had to put together a piece of writing today that reflected on our first week at Olney high school. The idea was to provide and describe one example of a personal triumph, one example of struggle, and one example of “progress” through difficulty throughout the mega experience. Here’s what I came up with.

Part One: the Triumph

Getting here was the hardest part. Things that come up in my life don’t usually come in flashes or bangs or instants. When I’m reflecting, my life often feels like a slow dirge, a long trail of ups and downs. There isn’t much that’s sensational about it when I step back and look. It’s not a Hollywood Movie or a sports game or a drunken brawl. It’s a lot of walking around, a lot of small talk, and a lot of everyday activities that your average onlooker might call mundane or the usual.

And while I’ve always lived in a life of intensity and pressure, my life feels like the emotions are more internal than external, more in the mind rather than on the skin.

But now I’m here. Olney. Land of lost turns and total recalls. It’s just another forlorn place. No. Maybe not. Maybe it really is a neighborhood. Maybe it is a collection of homes and businesses, life and work and love. I would never have dreamed visiting on a day to day basis before committing myself to City Year. What would Olney offer to me as a random passerby? It would offer an unreasonable, uneducated depression that would seep down while keeping my head in the clouds for . . . for . . . forever. And I do not know how I would escape that.

On one hand, these streets are not for me. I prefer walking around downtown, where the money is, where the power is, where the causes for disinvestments like Olney are. The white men in the black suits looking down from their towers, looking at their ant-like hordes that they know little about on a personal level, laughing and scoffing at the situations they will never see eye to eye. Yes, it’s true, I prefer walking around in the playground of the rich. But I also have always preferred visiting the less fortunate, oppressed neighborhoods, where I can see life that is in more pain or with more problems than my own.

It’s hard to focus in Olney, but at the very least, I know that I’m here on a day to day basis. I report in at 7:15 in the morning and leave everything where it sits at 5 in the evening. This report is ridiculous but at least it’s what I’m feeling. It’s a reflection of how my mind is spinning. I’ve never visited an area that I’m not living in on a regular basis like this. At least since high school. And it’s an area that I do not know and do not know if I will know by the time I stop coming here. But I consider it a triumph. The cold air on the skin. My awkward presence feeling more and more comfortable. I don’t think I’ll be able to call myself a resident or member of the Olney community for a long time, but it’s getting easier. I can stand my ground and not feel nervous. I can ride the bus, with its gas and gears, without wondering where to get on or off. I know that there are areas on all sides of this one that have many things in common with this one but which I will probably never see. I am not afraid to admit faults. I am not afraid to admit comfort.

But I am also not afraid to admit that I’m here and that this is different for me.

Part Two: the Struggle

Everything is connected. How does a firefly find itself in a sea of darkness with a small beacon of light? How do bats learn to maneuver through their SONAR language in a world of speech and vision? We humans struggle and suffer through similar problems. We are all animalistic, with primal desires, primal fears, and primal necessities. We all need to fit in: we are all social with our own unique and shared mechanisms that require ourselves and our neighbors to be in tune and in sync.

I have lived in Philadelphia for a year. I have made good decisions, bad decisions, and strange decisions. I have adapted myself based on my surrounding using such decisions. My greatest struggle since moving out of New England has always been racial. I used to be afraid of admitting this. After living in Philly for several months I thought I was over my unease around such large quantities of non-Caucasians, and I told many people this. It was a great time for me, but it was only partially true. Being at City Year, I can understand that yes, I do feel more comfortable around types of people, including Caucasians, that I am not used to being near. I don’t necessarily look twice when I get on a train anymore, or worry when I’m the only white guy on a bus. I’ve worked with Blacks, Asians, and Hispanics, all of different backgrounds, and I believe that there is some diversity experience under my belt.

But the struggle isn’t over. Now I’m at City Year and have realized that despite being acquainted with diverse populations, my celebration and knowledge of diverse populations is still limited. This affects, primarily in a negative way, the communication between myself and the students I am around. But don’t get me wrong—I am not trying to sell myself or them short. We may all be one great big happy family that can talk about anything and understand where we are all coming from after only a couple of hours together; but I don’t think this is the case. Like a romance or a friendship, things take time to adjust and fall into place. Until bonds are solidified, there will be pain through naiveté and different forms of ignorance. There will be challenge and regret. There will be more to come that will show I have not learned nearly as much as I thought I did.

Part Three: the Progress

What is progress? Progress is reiteration. Progress is upkeep and update. Progress is me showing up to school even though I would rather be getting drunk all the time, some times. Progress is greeting students in the halls even though I have a strong feeling, even if it isn’t true, that the student will not respond in a positive way to me. Progress is becoming entirely selfless at some points so that I can try and see through their eyes. Progress is becoming entirely selfish at some points in order to figure out what I need to do to behave more effectively and grow as a person. Progress is acknowledging the presence of nervousness and noticing that the nervousness can change. Progress is forgetting that the fingers are cold in the morning because it was all that I focused on the previous morning. Progress is typing this up without regrets or second guesses. Progress is not checking my cell phone for text messages from a beautiful girl or amazing best friend, even though some days that’s all that keeps me from breaking down and crying, or quitting. Progress is finding the strength in myself where I haven’t found it before. Progress is sometimes different from this writing; progress is sometimes shutting up and listening compassionately to what other people around me—colleagues in City Year, teachers, school staff, or most importantly the students—are saying so that I will get a handle on my job. Progress is taking on extra duties even though I might lose them. Progress is being okay with losing extra duties I made an effort to get. Progress is never letting go of a sight of the world, even if I’ve always tried to keep an eye on the world, since now the world is different, spinning faster on its surface, and hard to get a real good grip on. Progress is being an adult but not having to try hard to still feel like a kid.

Those Halls of Justice

Keep a look out
for weekends where
you think you haven’t
done anything and
have done enough
all at once: no image.

Two New Broadsides

For an upcoming book fair in Philadelphia’s very own Fishtown.

Version 1:

Version 2:

Original poem: click here.

City Year Update #1

What follows is the first in a series updates that concern my membership as a City Year Corps Member in Greater Philadelphia. I will be engaged in teaching at Olney High School West for the next 9 months of my life, and have obvious sensations of fear, nervousness, excitement, and ambition all swirling around inside of me. Though I know not of what to expect tomorrow, when I first walk through those doors in the far North of this city, I am prepared to be open-minded, and teach students the best I can.

As far as these updates go, expect a vast variety of information and literature. You can read an essay I had to write on “why I deserve the red jacket” (a token symbol of the City Year program) here. I posted it on the collaborative blog because it felt like a good status update and Jeff Brennan likes to put in status poems. The following update are several documents that compose a portfolio, which my City Year leaders will use to help put me in classrooms, and which the teachers and principal of Olney West will use as well, to get to know me better. There is no denying that creative inspiration will come out of this educator’s experience, and so other updates may include narrative or abstract poems, prose poems, diary entries, and perhaps even a photograph or two, about my City Year experience–including the good, the bad, the wild, the crazy, the passive, the active, and all that is in between. Controversial material, or the bluntest of the blunt statements, will probably be held for privacy reasons.

I contemplated opening up a new blog to display the material and keep it confined to one digital, and perhaps that will happen down the road, but for now the updates will go here, with all my other posts about all my other life things. If you have questions, comments, or want me to expand on or continue anything in particular, email me!

Biography

I have only recently been in Philadelphia. I grew up in Gorham, Maine, a small town right outside of Portland. In the spring of 2004 I graduated from Gorham High School, the one high school in town, a public school. Although my upbringing was liberal, progressive, and though nearby Portland is the cultural hub of Southern Maine, most of my younger years were confined to the rural/suburban life of Gorham.

Immediately after my high school graduation, I went to Roger Williams University (RWU) in Bristol, Rhode Island, where I studied poetry, English Literature, sociology, and anthropology. During my four years I was engaged with numerous clubs, organizations, and activities. I was a deejay for four years at the school’s radio station, WQRI, and while involved I also reviewed CDs for the school newspaper. I ended up becoming the station’s Music Director for one year, where I worked with artist promotion companies through New England. Other activities include: volunteering for the Campus Entertainment Network for wide-range media events; founding with four others a student literary magazine called Gewgaw; hosting Scrabble tournaments; participating with other artistic individuals in the weekly open mic night, called Expression Session; and taking part in the Chair Rearrangement Club. During my undergrad, I was also connected with the Providence arts scenes, both mainstream and underground, which introduced me to diversity, multi-culturalism, and a wide array of artistic backgrounds.

After I received my Bachelor in Fine Arts (in Creative Writing), I pondered my options. During the summer of 2008, I lived in Bristol and worked as an intern for the Department of Transportation’s Intermodal Section. Getting a taste of the government, when combined with my ethnographic studies during my anthropology and sociology work at RWU, inspired me to expand my urban horizons and move to Philadelphia, which I did in October of 2008.
Since moving to Philadelphia, I have quickly become engaged in various artistic and professional circles. I have been a member of the Poetic Arts Performance Project, a local poetic/performance community in Philadelphia, since late 2008, where I have started and maintained its official blog, have taken on videographer responsibilities, and helped organize and run poetry and music events both in Center City and in West Philadelphia. In early 2009, I became a member of the New Philadelphia Poets, who work together to refine their own art and bring members from other cities to Philadelphia for readings, while also hosting events that promote the group as a whole. Most recently, the New Philadelphia Poets hosted a poetry carnival in the Magic Gardens on South Street for the Fringe Festival.

In addition to my arts/community involvement, I have worked at a diverse set of jobs during my short time in Philadelphia. My first job, which recently ended, was working as a bookseller at Borders in the Philadelphia International Airport. Becoming involved with a culture that brings every type of individual together was very important to me, and I look forward to pushing this love for literature outwards. Since last fall I have worked varying degrees as a grocer at Jonathan Best, a gourmet foods store in Chestnut Hill. Putting myself in a place I have not accustomed to gave me a great introduction to the idea of neighborhood community in this city. Other jobs that I have performed in Philadelphia include manuscript reviewing and editing for Paul Dry Books, located downtown on Walnut Street, and writing narrative/interview articles for the music magazine Origivation.

I believe that while young, consistently experiencing new people and places is important to expanding skills and living a fruitful life. When I first moved to Philadelphia, I moved into West Oak Lane (around 17th and Church), which was an extreme culture shock for me, but in addition to opening my eyes and breaking down stereotypes, it gave me a sense of home. When my half-year lease ended at the beginning of summer, I moved to Fishtown (Berks and Girard) for its affordability and proximity to Center City. Most recently I moved to the Reading Viaduct area of North Philadelphia (12th and Brandywine), where I currently live with three other City Year corps members.

I chose Philadelphia for a number of reasons. I had heard it was cheaper than Boston and New York City, and had a great arts scene; I knew it was relatively close to New England, which I wanted to leave; and I knew that not many people respect it as a city due to the amount of negative coverage it gets in the news. I moved here with a gut feeling, a combination of excitement and nervousness, and have done nothing but enjoyed it ever since. Despite the immense amount of problems that I have come to notice and attempt to understand throughout the city, the people here, people of all types, have been inspiring, motivational, and important to me. I plan on continuously expanding my horizons, meeting more people, and hopefully I will be able to live and work with them to make life better for many.

The idea to join City Year came about around the time I was leaving Rhode Island for Philadelphia. I did not really know what I wanted to do after school and was hesitant about going into an educational field. I did not necessarily want to become part of the academic culture just yet, but I was contemplating teaching English abroad. Graduate school was another possibility, and remains an option, but before City Year became my goal, I wanted a break from being a part of college life. I remember browsing through the various AmeriCorps programs and City Year seemed to most admirable one, the best fit for my experiences in college and my personal goals. To help young people, despite my inexperience, has always been a desire of mine, and City Year seemed like the most straight-forward way about getting into the experience. I believe that everyone can use their skills in a way that can benefit humanity, both those with and without privilege, in immensely powerful ways. At the moment, I am looking forward to taking what I have learned and putting it to the test, learning a lot because I do not know much, and hopefully allowing those around me and myself to exchange perspectives.

Academic Subjects

Based on my own interests, I believe I know what I am and am not able to effectively teach. On the other hand, while I am assured of what I know, I have little teaching experience; however, I am ready to confront what little experience I have and work hard to learn how to share knowledge to the best of my ability.
The academic subjects that I feel most comfortable teaching, or help teach, include reading comprehension and grammar; literature and poetry; reporting; technical and creative writing; performance arts; and computer software/hardware.

I feel comfortable teaching digital photography, and digital film production (videography); graphic design and desktop publishing; local history and ethnography, national history, world history, and art history; sociology/anthropology work in and out of the community; and basic science.

Though I am sure that I am not listing them all, I feel least comfortable teaching Mathematics; politics, business, and law; visual arts (painting, sculpture, pottery, et cetera); sports and health; musical instrumentation; cooking; and machinery/mechanics.

It is important to stress that though I have not had great learning experiences with certain fields in the past, and thus I do not feel capable teaching them, I am interested in all topics now, in my own life. Any necessary information that I do not have a grasp on would be information that I would readily confront. I would consider teaching uncomfortable lessons as challenging opportunities rather than burdens, as I love learning and love to see others learn. If I am put face to face with information I know little to nothing about, I will look forward to doing the research and learning the information without hesitation.