When I first started talking about building “A Poem Is Where The Heart Is…”, my installation at Parse Seco in Taos, NM for National Poetry Month, multiple folks responded saying, “Wow, what you’re building really captures what it’s like inside the Poet’s mind”. That’s certainly the aesthetic I’ve always chosen, where the more senses that are stimulated the merrier.
With projections flying across the page, sounds humming from every direction, readings that challenge the hierarchial norms of poesis, music and movement, dishes to dine upon, and as many people as possible stuffed into the room speaking beautiful verse all at the same time, the dream exhibition is just beginning to take form.
My favorite part about this past month has been all of the unenvisioned collaborations that have manifested through the act of creating a space where anything can be born. I’ve seen so many connect and so many more find their voice. I’ve sat as audience and had all of my heart strings pulled, so that the tears and the laughs come out on all fronts. I’ve felt elation just piecing together all of the ideas and working to keep the space in constant flux through multiple transformations.
A few people have said, “Why don’t you leave it up all summer? I’m going to be sad to see it go.” But all dreams are temporal. And as they pass, it is our memories of them that guide us forth.
Fortunately, this last piece: the closing reception taking place tomorrow night at 7pm, will be a final sonic blast of pure bliss that reflects all that has transpired throughout the exhibit over the past few weeks. I am filled with both excitement and a sense of awe just thinking about all the working parts that’ll come together and make tomorrow night a dream not to be forgotten! From soulful music performed by Mary Arose in her new project Daughter Dear and the sacred harmonies performed by Esmé Olivia with her guitar and loop station and hand drum, to the dozens of poets reading from that infinite scroll everyone has spilled the ink of their heart upon, to the cacophonous sound installation built by myself, Jamin Reyes, Sam Fischer, and Brett Tomadin turning the short staccatos of a typewriter orchestra into the thick depths of a cosmic swirl.
We will hear Taos hum.
It’ll begin as a gentle purr that’ll quickly work its way through our core before beginning to roar.
Some may dance to its melody. Others will spread their wings and begin to soar. We will all be living in poetry, the words the things that craft our reality. This is a launching point into the community we have always known. I can’t wait to share this experience with you. To be a guest in it, myself.
At some point in the night, someone way down in town or maybe as far away as the Mesa will hear the echos of the ruckus we make above, and say to their lover, “My dear, I think that mountain is alive. I think we made it home.”
The Life and Works of Marshall James Kavanaugh 