Quiet Lightning strikes!

Postcards, with the order of readers, by PSPrint (and me!)

Every so often something happens in your life that makes everything worthwhile. Monday, December 14th of 09 was one of those nights for me.

I don’t know whether to get all emotional here or to keep it all professional for you, but what happened Monday should be given some context and, frankly, I don’t think I should be the one to do it. I’m going to anyway.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time outside. I lived in a quiet neighborhood of dead ends and lots of children my age, and we played daily pickup games of baseball, basketball, soccer – anything we could come up with. We stayed out until our moms walked out to the porch and called for us; we sometimes made them phone one another to find us. Often we came in with grass stains and bruises, but always the smell of the earth was attached to us.

Older, I miss that. I have missed it for some time and understand how privileged I was to grow up in such a neighborhood. I am not still in touch with most of the boys and girls I grew up with, but their cadences and favorite expressions combined to form my own personal soundboard. They shared something with me that no one else ever has had, or will again, and although other kids in other places grow up in similar ways, whiling away hours with whatever fun they can find, the personalities of those particular boys and girls remain with me . . . in large part as me.

I find myself in a new situation. We have new games and there are perhaps higher stakes. I don’t know. All I know is I love writing and expressing myself and a lot of other people – I think almost everyone I know has a passion for the same thing. I don’t know if it’s the most primal urge but it feels like the most important civilized one. Monday night as I watched friend after friend (some of whom I didn't know) get up to the microphone with their own ideas and feelings and their own singular ways to express them . . . I just felt like it was so natural, that we had found a new front yard to play in, or that we had all decided once and for all what the new game would be and happily played it together.

I’m such a big goon – I am crying and laughing as I write this. Life is so loud for me. Voices echo in my heart and remain there, fresh and distinct and attached to your faces. I gobble this up and it comes out of me, sometimes better, sometimes worse, but I feel it always. Life. I don’t know what I’m doing or what my next move is. Who the earth does? I would love any feedback. I wanted to make a banner for Quiet Lightning that said something I heard this past Saturday at a friend’s somatic psychology seminar: “This is your space. We can create whatever you want here” – but I didn’t have time.

I’m kind of glad I botched my reading. I don’t know. It feels more genuine I think than it otherwise would. The night wasn’t about me and I feel proud of so many people and utterly content with how it went. I can’t be all like: ‘I nailed it! My piece was gene-ius!’ Because it wasn’t, but the night was, and I just feel so damn good about it. You are all my new neighborhood pals and I like our games! What should we do next? Are you still excited?

The videos are posted in order and you should watch them that way. Of course, you can watch your favorites, but Raja and I ordered them to create a healthy mixture of poetry and fiction, so the audience could sit back and be inundated by changing patterns of words. If you have the time, I think you'll get a good sense of what this series is about by watching that way.

Of course, this was the first episode; naturally it will evolve. But this time, readings ranged from the poetry of Rajshree Chuahan, who helped me organize the event, to that of Tess Patalano and MG Martin – both representing SFSU – and Missy Church, whom I met through Cherry Bleeds. Meghan Thornton accomplished the tough duty of being the only one to read both poetry and short fiction, which was also performed by the very talented Lauren Becker, the pleasantly ubiquitous Peg Alford Pursell, and new friends Anna Reed and Eugenia E. Gratto, who writes hers in a hundred words or less. Paul Corman-Roberts, whom I also met through Cherry Bleeds, virtually stole the show with his “Call Me Mister” missive, and Nicole Portaro reminded me why she was my favorite poet in Clarion Alley with hers. Eddie Wright read the first chapter of his novel Broken Bulbs and Alia Volz, whom I’ve read now in several issues of Instant City, read a wonderful short story called “The Red Queen.”

I’m very pleased to know such talented talented people. No doubt it is with your cadences that I will continue, no matter where I'm headed and whatever happens -- I am sure to take something from each of you.

Thank you, everyone. I look forward to reading your new poems and stories, your new encounters with beauty and faith and betrayal, and finding new spaces for us to fill and new ways to fill them. This is your space; we can create it however you want.

Eddie Wright reads chapter one of Broken Bulbs

Meghan Thornton reads "The King of France" and poems

Lauren Becker reads "A Simple Explanation," "Say It," and "A Boy"

Missy Church reads some of her poems

Nicole Portaro performs "In the Garden"

Here, Anna Reed read "Love's Cacaphony: A Parable (God's Honest Truth)." But it's a llittle racy, and she doesn't want her kids to see! So below, watch Rajshree Chuahan read some of her poems.

Here we took about a 20 minute intermission for drinks and chattery. Below is Paul Corman-Roberts reading "Call Me Mister."

MG Martin reads and performs his poetry

Tess Patalano reads some of her poems

Peg Alford Pursell reads "Our Losses"

Eugenia E Gratto reads a few 100 proof stories

 Alia Volz reads "The Red Queen"

I finish with "You Are God"

I invite all who read or attended - as well as those of you who have just seen this article - to weigh in with your own comments, advice, complaints, et cetera, below. Feel free to put Quiet Lightning in an entirely different context than my childhood! What - or who - would you like to see next time?

• Submissions are completely open
• You have to be available to read on the 25th (no one will be allowed to read for you)
• Reading time will be 5-8 minutes per person, and we decide if it's too long
• Tell a friend. Submit now or no later than January 7  to lightning [at] evankarp [dot]. Hope to see you there!
• Details: 3159 16th Street bw Valencia + Guerrero | 7-9 PM | Cost: $1 per person

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