Facebook urges me to look back at my biggest moments in 2013 and manages to miss most of them; which suits me fine – it means I have maintained a private life that FB, WordPress, twitter, tumblr has limited access to. More of my life is out there than ever before. I have had a total stranger stop me in the street to ask if I’m the guy in that video shot at Lizzie Violet’s birthday.
I still have people telling me how brave I am for being an out queer – in this day & age? I’m sick of straight actors being called ‘brave’ for taking a gay role in a movie – particularly when the role is of yet another queer dying of HIV. But I digress.
It has been a productive year. Did two great features: Secret Handshake, & Cabaret Noir. Wrote some great short stories, great poetry & even finished a rough draft my romanic fantasy about coal miners in love.
Expanded my following on WordPress, Tumblr & even Twitter. Not that an electronic foot print leads to more people coming out to hear me. I’ve realized that on line energy in rarely equals the same energy in return.
I’ve made my blog more regular, expanded it to 3 posts a week, with at least 3 photos taken by me in each. Structure has made it easier to do. The reviews have made me focus more on the words I hear – this is a prime case of energy in that seems to often go into a vacuum. I do have a couple of dedicated rebloggers but rarely do I hear anything from a performer I’ve reviewed, except to correct a quoted line (kids, I make notes by hand, in the dark & often on a wet, wobbly table – give me a break.)
There will be some changes in 2014. Just because things are working doesn’t mean change is out of the question. How big? That’s another blog post but I will be redirecting some of my non-productive energy output into other directions.
Dec 26 – Thursday – hosting – The Beautiful & The Damned
June 6-8, 2014 – attending – Bloody Words
“This just isn’t going to work.” Dish loomed over Spoon.
“What do you mean, my sweet?” Spoon tapped playfully on Dish’s edge.
“I mean exactly what I said.” Dish pulled back.
“You can’t mean that, my sweet. We were meant for each other.”
“So you say, but I’m beginning to doubt that.”
“But why?” Spoon attempted to cuddle into the deepest recess of Dish. “No on reaches you the way I do. Admit it?”
“There’s no denying that Spoon, but with you, it’s all take, take, take. You never bring me anything.”
“But, my darling that is the way nature intended us. The dish brings supply to the spoon. Not other way around.”
“So, you think its okay that I’m all give and never get.”
“But, you get frequent caresses from me, my sweet.” Once again Spoon attempted to nestle into the curved depth of Dish.
“No. No. No.” Dish heaved out, sending Spoon skittering across the counter top. “I will not allow myself to be used by you any longer. I cannot for my own sake.”
“There’s some else, isn’t there?” Spoon sparkled with distrust. “It’s that Ladle. He fills you. It’s him, isn’t it?”
“There is no one else. There never will be. No one. Ever. I will not allow myself to be used again a lowly piece of cutlery again. You hear me! Never.”
“Was the soup too hot last night, my sweet? Is that what is troubling you. Or was the milk too cold this morning? Was it something like that. Please tell me. I want to know. Let me share your pain.” Spoon approached again and laid his head on the trembling rim of Dish.
“Oh give me a break.” Dish heaved out once again, pushing Spoon back. “It was your idea we run away, and where has that gotten us? Where?”
‘We still have each other, my precious.’
“I want more than us. I want to be a part of a set. I want cups and saucers. A meat platter. I long for the company of my own kind.”
“But that can never be, now that you have turned your back on them they will never accept you back again. Need I remind you of this?” Spoon tapped a small crack in Dish’s rim.
“So what I am a little cracked. That’s not reason to turn me out. To force me into the company of cutlery. I said I’m leaving you and I will.” The dish rolled to the edge of the counter.
“Baby don’t go. Don’t leave me this way. We can work it out. I’m sure we can. Let me think. There has to be a solution.”
“There is a solution, you have to be less selfish. You have to learn to give, to bring me as much as I bring you.”
“But darling, I hold so little, while you hold so much. We cannot change our basic natures.”
“There’s always an excuse, isn’t there? We’ll no more excuses.” Dish tipped over the counter and crashed to the floor.
TOpoet.ca fills the gap between form and content where he strives to give an objective presence to imaginary constructions of bourgeois or radical psychology. He embraces the realm of the ‘superficial’ as a refusal of ‘substance,’ which is culturally inscribed in heteronormative terms. TOpoet is a poet, short-story writer & novelist who has hit stages from Sydney, Nova Scotia to San Francisco, California - in Toronto he has performed at HOWL, Cryptic Chatter, Hot-Sauced Words, Poetic Justice, Word Jam, The Art Bar, Word on the Street, Pride, Queer West Fest, Plasticine Poetry & The Beautiful and the Damned.