In the spirit of Tehching Hsieh’s “One Year Performance,” I, Billimarie Lubiano Robinson, plan to do a one year performance entitled “Private Drafts.”
Some performances were long. We raged past the show and burrowed furiously into the night. Other performances were lonely and quiet, intimate, with soft conversation and relaxed acceptance of letting the flow be. On the last night, our voices rose and fell in play with one another, harmonizing at their own accord to the perfect pitches, intervals, frequencies.
Here is where I am calling out all abled allies of Los Angeles: this is your chance. Your chance to put your body where your mouth (er, status update) is. To move away from the computer, away from the phone, away from your wonderfully crafted Facebook posts which condemn gun laws, homophobia, and Islamophobia, and participate in a public demonstration in support of the LGBTQ community.
Originally Posted: January 1st, 2015Updated: January 4th, 2020We made it to 2015! Today has been beautiful. I’m thankful for the sun. Here’s a poem that I wrote five years ago: “Take.” I’ve been rewriting it ever since. Sharing “Take” comes at a fitting time. As 2014 transitioned into 2015, I woke from several visceral dreams and …
Originally Posted: December 11th, 2014Updated: January 4th, 2020With all the chaos transpiring around me, I completely forgot about #TyPoInPo! Last year, I asked a few of you to contribute to an experimental, collaborative internet poem I was compiling. We got a ton of great one-liners, which I arranged with my typewriter into a final poem …
Captivated by conversation, tapas and wine, attendees were enthralled by the night. In a literary wonderland reflected through timeless glass, everyone bubbled. Princeton Library celebrations were led by live classical music, auctions, vendors, food, dancing, and free poetry. I’m honored Typewriter Poetry played a small role in the enchantment, even if it was for one night (and one night, only).
Here is “The Process.” Here are dreams, here is art, here is expression. Throw that body into the thralls of inspiration. Yes, it has led you down an unproductive path. Yes, it will abandon you to a space without answers. But tonight you are shaman and you shake like the stars. Your mind is my mind’s final frontier.
The first question people usually ask me after we’ve been talking for a while is “where are you from?”
“I’m from LA,” I always say, though now that I’m in Louisiana I wonder if I should be abbreviating it as “L.A.” in my head.
Whether it’s my clothing, demeanor, accent, or the fact that I use “dude” more than the average person should, everyone always nods their head in immediate understanding when I declare I am from California.