A Poem Is Where The Heart Is – Exhibition for National Poetry Month

A Poem Is Where The Heart Is…
April 7th – May 12th, 2018
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Closing Reception on Saturday, May 12th, 2018 at 7pm
At Parse Seco (487 State Road 150, Arroyo Seco, NM – next to Taos Cow)
April was Poetry Month and Parse Seco had quite the literary medley to keep your ears, eyes, and hearts entertained. On Saturday, May 12th the gallery opens its doors with an installation that showcases the diverse range of voices found in the Taos region. Through spoken word, music, movement, and film, audience members will find themselves connected to a community so elevated in its heart. Stop by for the closing reception for a last chance to add your voice to the exquisite corpse that has grown along the gallery walls throughout the month. With new additions to the installation, including a 4-dimensional soundscape made of the typewritten orchestra you’ve already seen portrayed in analog, the gallery will come to life with all new modes of poetic visionA Poem Is Where The Heart Is. We hope to see you there!
 
Some of the things that have been seen over the month of April
at A Poem Is Where The Heart Is:

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A Poem Is Where The Heart Is – Exhibition for National Poetry Month

A Poem Is Where The Heart Is – Opening Reception

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April 7th – May 12th, 2018

Opening Reception: Saturday, April 7th, 2018

Join us at Parse Seco for our April exhibition
A POEM IS WHERE THE HEART IS…

with performances by Anthony Carson & High Ideals
SINEW
and Ma Ja Ka

April is Poetry Month and Parse Seco has quite the literary medley to keep your ears, eyes, and hearts entertained. On Saturday, April 7th the gallery opens its doors with an installation that’ll capture the diverse range of voices found in the Taos region. Through spoken word, music, movement, and film, audience members will find themselves connected to a community so elevated in its heart. Stop by for the opening night and add your voice to the exquisite corpse that’ll grow along the gallery walls throughout the month or make an appearance at one of the Thursday Word Exchanges to be inspired and recite your own work. Every Sunday, gallery hours will include a chance to type out a poem on the assorted typewriters and sit in the reading room surrounded by the work of Taoseños old and new. Throughout the month we’ll be celebrating our community and the environment that inspires it through the art of spoken word.

 

 

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A Poem Is Where The Heart Is – Opening Reception

Working on the Novel

(photo by Ras Jiro)

I’ve been writing poetry for 3-12 hours a day for the last week and a half. Sometimes working on a novel. Sometimes just working. Not always for myself. Sometimes behind a typewriter in the plaza and getting paid. Other times at home and in the backyard at my writer’s desk and drinking tea.

When I’m in the middle of writing the novel, I fill with envy for my future self who can say he is almost done and has less to write than he has written. Sometimes my head spins with how much I have left to write. Other times my head spins with all of the other novels I have left to start writing.

When I’m in the street, my mind taps into something outside of myself and I see the words typed in front of me come out cleaner and clearer each day, giving me this sense of pride for the poems people walk away with.

When I’m at home, I’m filled with this desire to share with someone what I’m writing. To just have it done and published already.

Sometimes I wonder how Kerouac did it. I wonder how Miller did it. I wonder how Thompson did it. No one ever taught me how to do any of this. I feel like I’m past the point of making it up for myself, and almost at the point of finding the things that actually work.

Today I bought 4 poems worth of groceries. It’s enough for the week. I’ve been thinking about upping the rate I suggest. People really value spontaneous poetry. I see the romance it inspires. I see the hope it gives. I feel first hand the connections to the earth it creates. I’ve written birthday poems to people’s grandmothers. I’ve written love poems to people’s wives. I’ve written surrealist poems to old beatniks who tell me about the time they saw Gary Snyder walking a purple poodle. One guy asked me to write a poem to his enemy and I wrote an apology. None of this can be translated to dollar signs.

Someone has been leaving pennies underneath the rosebush where I write in downtown Taos. The first time I thought it was odd enough. The penny was old and dirty. It looked like it had been sitting there for a while. But I’m there 3 to 4 days a week, so I would’ve noticed it before. Oddly, this was the first or second penny I’ve found in months.

The second and third time, the pennies were even older and dirtier, as if they had sprouted from the ground and were young seedlings. And there were more of them. 

They weren’t there when I first sat down.

I found the pennies after writing a poem that really struck a chord. A poem about heart consciousness. A poem about spreading abundance.

Perhaps the rosebush has been tipping me. 

I believe in magnetism. I believe in abundance. I feel absolute gratitude. I wish there was more time in the day. I wish I had more energy. I wish my focus was stronger. I wish I had the words to describe everything I dream.

Some days I realize this is the life I lead. I realize it is leading to something greater. I realize if this is all I have at the end of it, I’m okay with that.

My words continue to give smiles. These smiles continue to give me what I need to continue. 

My dream is to finish writing these stories I’ve lived, so that I can again be an open slate and experience new ones. Until then, I write endlessly.

Working on the Novel