personal

Los Angeles Makerspaces…and Conductak

Most of the people I typed for at last year’s Artisanal LA event have blurred together in memory. Even still, there is one fellow I have no intention of ever forgetting. He came over with a friend. She wandered off to take pictures as he and I began to talk. At first, we did the basic Typewriter Poetry dance. He asked about the project, I answered with my usual bases covered. Soon, something shifted. He sat down on the floor. I halted my work on another person’s poem. We dove into our hitchhiking and traveling stories; afterward, he shared his love of robotics and electronics with me.

Literary Creatures: Philly Fringe Festival 2018

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.

"With Ink" by Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - Typewriter Poetry

Typewriter Poem: “With Ink”

Found out my friend Ryan passed away last year. We met at the Canoga Park Art Walk a few years back…I typed him a poem, he showed me his drawings. Young guy. Potential. We stayed in touch, hanging out and talking, reflecting. The last time we talked, he told me he was focusing on recovery.

Beyond Words: Princeton Library’s Fall Benefit

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).

Typewriter Poetry Billimarie Free Poetry Philadelphia Rittenhouse Square 2014

Imagination Is The New Work

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.

NOLA in McComb Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - Typewriter Poetry

Moved to New Orleans

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.