Author: Cadence Poetica

Cadence Poeticahttps://cadencepoetica.wordpress.comI am a lot of different things in one package. I am a geek, a poet, a thinker, a seeker. I am passionate, curious, resourceful, stubborn, independent. I'm an "extroverted introvert". I am a spiritual person. I believe in destiny, I believe in fate. I want to be a better person. I want to help make the world a better place. I see life as a journey, an opportunity for constant growth and learning. I like sushi and sea turtles, a good cup of coffee, fluffy cats, the shuffle function on my ipod, a walk on a beach on a grey day, a thunderstorm, a nap in the shade on a warm afternoon… Simple things make me happy, small moments of grace make me smile. :)

going viral is nothing new

This piece went viral in the late 90’s as being author Kurt Vonnegut’s alleged commencement address at MIT in 1997. The story goes that Vonnegut’s wife received the piece by email and was so pleased with her husband’s cleverness that she forwarded it to quite a few people, lending some credibility to the claim.

Either way, it circulated around very quickly and generated a buzz. Australian director Baz Luhrman saw it and wanted to use the text for a project he was working on. He initially wanted to contact Vonnegut for permission, but upon investigation the real author emerged.

Mary Schmich, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, had published the speech in a June 1997 article, intending to parody Commencement addresses in general. She did contact Vonnegut to clear up the confusion; nobody really knows how the speech came to be associated with Vonnegut, but he did praise Mary’s work.

Thankfully, Mary was happy for Bazza to use the text for a low-key spoken word remix on his 1998 album ‘Something For Everyone’. Surprisingly, it shot up the charts and cemented it’s place in art history as a quirky yet poignant and insightful classic hit.

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EVERYBODY’S FREE (TO WEAR SUNSCREEN)
M. Schmich

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

thinking on Bowie

I heard about Bowie’s death yesterday evening and have still yet to fully process it. I wouldn’t have ever called myself a “huge fan” but I have literally been brought to tears because David Bowie’s contribution to the arts was so pervasive that you didn’t need to be a “fan” in order to have been influenced by his work. Jareth the Goblin King was my first fantasy crush, and I’ve had “Dance Magic Dance” in my head since yesterday. Snatches of his music that I didn’t even know I knew have come into my head at random moments, along with a “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten that was one of his songs!”

As I’ve been reading articles and details of his life I’ve been really touched. David Bowie genuinely cared about people, he lived to challenge people, in his life and in his music, to dream big and have the strength to reach for those dreams, to love yourself and accept yourself just as you are. The world has not lost “just another musician”; we have lost a hero, we have lost a friend and an ally. We have lost someone who kept his illness a secret, preferring to spend his last days in the studio to leave us a very special parting gift. So RIP David Bowie, and in your own words: “I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.”

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Epic throwback!

Embarrassing proof that I was in an emo band project once upon a time in a galaxy far far away… We called our project ‘Veritas’, which is the Latin word for ‘truth’.

I was on spoken word and singing duty, Big Noiz (the guy to my right) was the rapper, the girl in the picture was the on bass and the other young guy to my left was lead guitar… we were working on getting a drummer but were pretty happy to wing it! haha.

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Sadly never got past the stage of cutting a demo back around 2005, but it was a fun experience. I highly recommend it at least once in your life!

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blog: reminiscing

I had an amazing birthday last night, best I’ve had in a long time. I got to wear a pretty dress, go out to dinner with some awesome people, and got some lovely gifts and flowers. And my husband really made my birthday special by spoiling me. :)

I asked people to come to my birthday dinner dressed in 1950’s attire, so as I was getting ready, curling my hair in a retro style, and attempting to do period-accurate make up, I was thinking of that time period, and of my family, especially my maternal grandmother who has passed now. I do resemble my father a lot, but I love the photos of my grandmother and see a lot of myself in them.

My mother in NZ has all the family photos, so I don’t have any of the ones from when I was a kid. These were all taken in the 50’s – top photo is Granny and Papa with my mother and her two sisters, bottom left is Granny and Papa, bottom right is Granny and her mother Grandma Lloyd… Hard to imagine that in the top photo my grandmother was 13 years younger than I am now, with a whole family… Whereas I still feel like kid half the time!

Maternal family members, taken in the 1950’s

This is a comparison of myself on my birthday and my grandmother in the mid-1950’s. Still younger than me, dammit! But I’d guess we’re of a more similar age here.

Me on my birthday vs Granny Brown in the 50’s.

I always regretted not contacting her more as I got older. It’s hard when you’re living overseas to remember extended family as much as you should I guess. But I do miss her and all my family in the States and wish I could see them more often. <3

blog: hermitude and judgment day

This year I’ve had one thing happen after another until it finally crushed me. I became exhausted and overwhelmed, jumbled, temperamental, craving solitude and isolation. So when my contract job ended, I decided to take some time off to rest and recover myself in self-imposed hermitude.

So now my phone is on silent, my chat programs turned off, and my email goes largely unanswered. I go shopping on a weekday when the stores are at their emptiest. I try and plan only one social thing a weekend if I can. I wake up, I cook lunch, I pack my husband off to work. Then I clean the house, I work on personal projects. The hubby comes home, I cook dinner, we watch Netflix or play WoW, I read before bed (FYI – I haven’t touched an actual book in years).

And slowly the noise in my head is starting to subside. I find I am so much happier with a slower pace in life, time to think and plan my next move without distraction. No knot in the pit of my stomach as I struggle to remember how smalltalk is supposed to work. No over-extending myself socially then collapsing in a heap when I come home. No need for the vague and often spurious promises of “Let’s catch up soon”.

At first I felt guilty. I’m not connecting with my friends enough, and I know that soon I will drop off many radars, just another somebody you used to know. Out of sight out of mind, time marches on, and all that jazz. I’m hoping that when I start feeling more social, I can reconnect with people again. But I also understand now just how much I need a more genuine way of living, one with less technology and more authentic contact with others.

I am done letting social media be my main form of interaction. I am done with excessive trigger warnings and tumblr, done with discussions about privilege and patriarchy, done with political correctness for its own sake, done with people whose convictions are formed from a cursory glance at mainstream news and infotainment articles, done with frivolous online petitions regarding first world problems.

I don’t want to sound rude. It’s not that I don’t care about my friends; I want to know how you all are, I want to know who got engaged, pregnant, sick, divorced. But I no longer want to find out from Facebook. More and more, I resent the use of social media to keep up with our lives.

What colour is your soul? What animal is your spirit animal? What cartoon house should you live in? This Russian artist just drew something and what happened next will amaze you! This guy made tiny people out of cheese and filmed different scenes with them every day until he had a cheese-people movie! This dude used to be a dude but now he is a woman and we should all care because his daughters are famous!!

Chalk it up to Weltschmerz, but it seems like very little of the noise and chatter in the Social Media Soapbox world actually matters. So here I am like the proverbial old codger, talking about how good things were “back in the day”, when mobile phones were the size of bricks and internet plans were charged by the hour. Back before people posted photos of their food, before people’s pets had their own Instagram accounts. I sit here like an old granny in a rocking chair on the front porch with her shotgun, plotting the destruction of Skynet.

Well… maybe not ALL of Skynet. Because I still need Pinterest for jam recipes and veggie garden tips and homesteading inspiration for when I finally go off-grid. And I guess maybe the cat videos can stay, and the one of the seal riding on the dolphin. But tumblr and 4chan are definitely going down. Make it so.

blog: life has always felt a little shaky

When it comes to medical dramas I was a Chicago Hope fan back in the day. And one character who only appeared on one episode somehow was able to sum up my whole life experience in one sentence; Carole Kane (as Marguerite Birch) says, “Life has always felt a little shaky to me, ya know?” That one line from that one episode has lived rent-free in my head ever since.

I’ve never felt I had a full grasp on life, on reality or sanity. I live in that half-light world between dreams and waking; time is and always has been a very loose concept for me. I’ve always felt broken somehow, like a puzzle whose pieces don’t quite lock into place – even if you complete the picture, it will never look cohesive; it will always look like an ill-fitting mesh of laminated cardboard, instead of a landscape or a building or whatever is depicted on the front of the box. And yet, this dissonance with life and with reality allows me to step outside myself and appreciate things in a way I could not if I were a fully integrated soul.

In my head, I live in a world without absolutes. A world where there is no real truth, where “truth” is just what resonates more succinctly with the feeling of being genuine and authentic; and I understand that what resonates with each individual is different and yet no less valid. A place full of grey areas, a world without the safety net of moral convictions and to quote the great Ozzy Osbourne, “indisputable gods”.

My Jesus is not your Jesus. Your Yahweh is not my God. Our interpretations of scripture, of faith and belief are different; they have to be, because *we* are different. And so I walk the tightrope dividing the chasm of belief vs unbelief, the same mantra on my lips as was breathed by a grieving father centuries ago: “Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!”

I am a conflicted soul. I am a skeptic and a romantic all in one. I have rarely known the comfort and security of unconditional love, and yet I believe in its value with all my heart. I have seen magic and wonder with my own eyes and can never be convinced that these do not exist. My world is one of art, of poetry, of chasing after beauty and that elusive nymph called Truth. I will fight with my last breath for love and the right of the individual to be free to follow one’s own path.

This conflicts with the actual world I live in – a world of facts and figures, a world of taxes, paycheques and mortgages. A world of text messages, emails, and appointment books. A world of black & white interpretations of scripture, of proscribed concepts of the Divine and of regimented worship. A world of “shoulds” and “musts”. A world of rat races, KPIs and deadlines. Of social engagement, social politics, social rules, social media. A world of white noise.

Thus my need for solitude and isolation, my need to escape into a reality to which I feel more aligned, a world of infinite beauty and love. Nature is and always has been my church. The swirl of leaves on a blustery autumn day is my cathedral. The sounds lovers and friends make when they see each other after a long absence is my hymnal. The warmth of a robust, frothy cappuccino in a mug is my sacrament. A book of poetry is my holy text. The beauty of the pulse of life when it’s being lived to the fullest… This is my spirituality and my inspiration.

This is why I say, “Blessed be.” This is the peace I wish to everyone. Love and be loved, celebrate life and let life celebrate you. Look at reality from different angles, find joy and inspiration on this gorgeous day.

blog: upset

I’ve heard there are 3 kinds of things that can upset you – an undelivered communication, a thwarted intention, or an unfulfilled expectation. Of the three, I feel like the last one is the worst. You can fix the first two; you can usually find a way to say what you meant to say, clarify something you misunderstood, or do something you meant to do. But the only way to avoid being upset by unmet expectations is to just not expect anything from yourself or anyone else in the first place.

And that’s hard to do, especially when you’re often not even aware you’re expecting something until it fails to eventuate. You could constantly question and analyse your attachments and assumptions, but that’s no way to live. At any rate, as long as your expectations fall into the realm of what can or should reasonably happen within your cultural context, there’s no reason you shouldn’t have them… right?

There are certain ideas: that as long as you’re hardworking, your job is secure and you’ll be promoted. As long as you treat your partner right they will always love you and never cheat on you. As long as you spend quality time with your children and meet their needs, they’ll love and respect you. As long as you are honest with your friends, they’ll never betray you. That as long as you’re a good person, people will like you for you…And yet over and over again, you end up disappointed and feeling like an idiot.

It’s death by a thousand paper cuts. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, not without hardening yourself to the point where nothing and no one can touch you. And once you’ve done that, there’s no joy in life anymore. So unless you want to turn into a grizzled, unfeeling automaton you can’t escape the pain, you can only choose, to some extent, what form your pain comes in.

I try to choose wisely, but I can never decide if life is a little sweeter for the sorrow, or if my naïveté will eventually ruin me. All I know is, I will keep picking myself up and dusting myself off over and over again, as many times as I have to, because that’s the only thing I know how to do; no matter what life and the consequences choices I make have to throw at me, I survive. And maybe… Maybe that’s all that’s needed.

poem: hush-a-bye

There’s things I want to tell you, but my throat refuses to put out.
My Southern mama taught me too well, honey chile, how to hush my mouth.

So I bite on the gag, suffocate by the way of inertia
Auto-asphyxiate with every word I say,
To feed your need for minutia
Every lie that I tell to hide the tell-tale gaps between
“Hi” and “how are ya?”

My spirit caged like a beast whose claws and teeth can’t be trusted;
Stuffed into a paper mâché shell and made to behave as instructed.
Mustn’t make waves, or put my rage on display –
It’s not the done thing
To air one’s laundry in public.

And I’m a hypocrite, I know, but I’m sick of trying to live –
As one more cog in the machine, one more chain, one more link!
And oh what ignorant bliss, what sweet release it seems!
To close my eyes to infinite dreams and be pulled under –
I envy Rip Van Winkle his twenty years of slumber.

Cos I’m tired – oh, so tired of this deafening silence!
Of the polite noises we make to avoid any violence.
I want to get in the ring, you and me –
Toe to toe and glove-free,
Bare-knuckle love and expression;
No holding back –
Right-hook jazz!
Uppercut poetry explosion…
Exploring the spectrum of human emotion.

I want you to see me for me,
Like, really notice I’m here,
Bursting out of my bands!
Nearly tipping over my chair!

Instead, we share jokes and links and recipes for pot roast.
I ask how your job’s going and like all your Facebook posts.
We make plans for a catch up we both know won’t happen;
I do miss your face, but you’re under-equipped
For the demons I’m battling.

So I pretend to be busy, and you pretend not to notice;
You like all my profile pics and ask how my job’s going…
And then you ask it – THE question – you ask how I am,
For a second, I almost cave, almost grab at the chance
To spring like a captive from restraint, initiate self destruct!
And run as far as truth can, when its moment has come…

But then…
I trip my own tongue,
My shutters fall into place,
The words dry up in my throat, an aborted disgrace.
And I simply smile and offer up the well-oiled phrase:

“Yeah –
I’m great, thanks.”

poem: silent scream

I wish I could give birth
to this silent scream.

I wish I could erase the words
“I haven’t been feeling well”
From your vocabulary.

I wish you could feel
How my heart drops in my chest
When you say them.

How you can render a glorious day
Into a magnificent lie
With five simple words
And turn memory
Into ashes in my mouth.

I wish I could give birth
to this silent scream.
Wish I could explain why my smile
Is crooked
And why sometimes I feel like
Running away.

With you,
there’s no more good days any more
Just good moments
Snatched from the teeth of the
Demon inside that wants to
Ruin everything.

I wish I could give birth
to this silent scream.

Henry Rollins: Sandwich Guy

I love this so much. Henry Rollins relating an experience he had in judging by appearance and reminding us that everyone has a story. Apologies for the language but this is such a great story and told so well. Henry, you are a master at what you do!

Incidentally I think this was recorded at his Sydney show I went to a few years back – 3 hours long, no intermission, just him talking, telling stories and sharing his worldview with us. He made the hours feel like minutes, and I’m pretty sure the majority of us would have stayed to listen to him for 3 hours more if he’d let us. :)

Events: Christmas Shows

What a hectic morning! I discovered the event I’m performing at tonight is actually tomorrow night, so now I have two events on tomorrow night. Gonna be a mad scramble but I’ll get to both.

So, tomorrow if you’re in Mount Druitt, come on down to the M.D. Scout hall after 4pm to play some carnival games, eat great festival style food, and hang out with the Living Bread team… We have a jumping castle!! And a lovely Christmas carols service starting at 7.30pm.

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If you’re in the Granville area, come out to Granville Park from 5pm for a Christmas concert plus multicultural food, arts & crafts. Concert from 6.30 to. 9pm & I’m on stage about 6.45 (before madly dashing back to Mounty county, lol).

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Flyers for both events here! Merry Christmas everyone!!