I furiously refilled my trusted DaDa box with massive amounts of clippings. Maya needed supplies for a Community Writing Center kids' poetry workshop she co-lead during the Utah Arts Festival. Editing the news with scissors is most pleasurable.
The Arts Festival is a four-day event, with something for everyone. Maya has performed several years with Children's Dance Theatre.
Being in the spotlight is in her blood. She definitely came here to be seen and heard. Dance is one form of self-expression at which she excels.
Each mind is unique, every perspective shaded from a different reference point. If more people felt comfortable expressing themselves, we would all be richer.
Writing is another form of self-expression and communication that Maya enjoys. She makes poems, writes short stories, picture books, cartoons, novels, and does a little blogging. Organizations like the Community Writing Center provide a wonderful service to the people of SLC, and give kids like Maya an opportunity to share their passion with others. We are both very happy to volunteer with them. This year she did the DaDa Poetry workshop, and I lead a discussion with parents about incorporating writing into a family's life.
Here is a photo essay of the preparation Maya and her fellow CWC volunteer Ken did for the workshop:
Word Salad in the making!
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| Warming up with words |
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| Rules? NO RULES! |
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| Write stuff, indeed. |
A couple of weeks later, I participated in the Second Annual Utah Alternative Press Festival. Brought my word casserole to the Main Library, and manned a table for the CWC. Many random people made many random poems. Little kids, homeless folks, hipsters, friends, and frenemies all united to decorate our area with spontaneous art. One older gentleman who was initially reluctant to participate, and certain he would get nothing but nonsense, got so absorbed by the project he pulled up a chair to the middle of our small table and proceeded to work on his creation for a solid 45 minutes. Then he read it aloud. Again and again. He went away. He came back. He read the poem aloud again. A few people purposely returned with companions. Photos were made. Poems were left, poems were carried away.
More than a few people asked, incredulously, "I just want to know who cut out all this stuff!?!"
That would be me.
It's just another form of smashing things down to start something new.
Reduce (the power), Recycle (engage your creativity), Reuse (there is nothing new under the sun, except you. Stand on your head sometimes. Same stuff, different perspective).
And if you haven't already done so, race to your local library and share in "Mimi's DaDa Catifesto" by Shelley Jackson (you probably thought I wasn't going to mention that!). It's delicious!
