timeless space

the studio is as much outside of time as any place i've ever been. i finally sat down with a sound guy and recorded my poetry. it was a blast. we thought it would only take an hour, but after three hours, we're not even halfway through editing them. i read about twenty four poems or so, about an hour's worth of spoken word. and i must say, the experience was invigorating.

i'd known this customer since the first week i started at my job. i meet all the longhairs, i know them all by name. they know me. what can i say, it's my weakness. this one had been talking to me since that first week because i had inquired about recording my poetry. he let on that he has a studio, and well, there you go. it's all history from there. long and drawn out perhaps, but not really.

i started out in the vocals room. a little closet of a room all soundproofed and surreal. i had the headphones on and couldn't see out the windows because of the soundproofing stuff. i read three poems, and could hear myself so clearly, it was strange. finally i said,

i'm just not comfortable.

let's listen to one.

he said.

and we cut the first poem. it sounded good, i was ready to try again, but asked for a venue change, which he offered repeatedly.

anything you need,

he said.

can i see you. will you take the stuff off the windows. i'm used to seeing people when i read.

sure. no problem.

but then, when he went to remove it, he said,

how about i just put the mic in this larger room. that mic works really well with your voice.

so he mentioned i could leave off the headphones if i didn't feel i needed them, and i accepted that offer straight away. they were awkward for me. and i'm not used to hearing myself so clearly.

as soon as i started to read in the other room, it was like a poetry gig.

you got stronger,

he told me later. we even cut one poem without any amending because it was just like a poetry reading. i'm solid kids, i told you.

it's a curious thing, baring your soul that way. and after i would read, he'd say,

good.

sometimes,

wow.

or

heavy.

i knew when i'd drop a line, but sometimes (rarely), his wolfen hearing would pick out some subtle rustle from the upstairs or exterior and he'd make me repeat a line. if i dropped a line, he had instructed me earlier to merely repeat it and continue. this process came easy to me as i know when i stumble. don't we all.

you're a natural.

he said.

we discussed my voice a lot because he really liked it. being a sound guy, at least i knew he wasn't just blowing smoke up my ass.

i'm going to play this stuff when i'm meditating, your voice is so soothing.

awesome!

i said. i never thought my work contemplative in that sense. though i had always hoped it would be.

i was blown away by his actual studio. the racks of electronics, the mega soundboard, all of it. i sat there and he came back and i said,

this is impressive.

he downplayed it a bit, and i said,

no, not the equiptment so much as what it represents. the place in your life you've come to. i'm very impressed. i want to do this with my art, get to the place where it is what i do. all i do.

thank you,

he said.

and we broached the subject of art for pay, and he has some distributorship ideas for my works. he thinks i can sell them on itunes or something, and, well, it sounds like a fine idea. to be at a reading and say, this poem is available at itunes, or wherever, it is a great idea.

plus, i'll get paid.

the bottom line for me is not money. but if this is all i want to do with my life, this is going to have to blossom into some way to earn a living somehow.

and i didn't feel strange there in his studio. it felt like the place i was supposed to be that moment. so many times, i look at me and think, girl, you have no natural environment. everywhere is your round hole. but it didn't feel that way. and talking artist to artist (he has a band and whatnot, we discussed songwriting a bit and the creative process which is really what floats my boat), it was right.

i know there is a place for me as i am. pink converse and all.

i think i'm headed there. and as i mentioned my studio time to a couple of my favorite customers today, they replied,

i want to hear about that some more.

(long lines sometimes prohibit actual communication). but the conversation goes on, over days and weeks.

poetry is in the air at my store and i love it.

i will return to the studio next week where we'll work through some more of the poems.

how's that,

he'd ask. after cleaning up some of my breathing and popping enunciations.

beautiful.

great. i don't want it to be sterile.

neither do i, that was a big concern for me.

that is why i'd rather do this with you here.

because you see, i'm reading the poems in the book while he's parsing the pauses (funny, never joined those two ideas. parsing space. parsing time. i like that a lot, will have to develop that thought) [and of course, parsing is not the "correct" word. kerning is the word i had in mind, kerning pauses. but that is also a transmutation of literary words, static words into space and time, and that makes me happy. i'm a simple girl, what can i say].

longer space? or shorter?

shorter, that's not a stanza break, but a breath pause.

right.

these subtleties would be lost to anyone else, i'm glad he's letting me in on the process.

this process is going to cost me a chunck of change, but i need to do this right. people will be paying money for this, and i'm going to go with his distribution ideas. i trust him. i don't think he'll lead me down a bad road. and, i think i'll have to put stalking the dead out there too. they must be available together. time to order a third printing, which makes me happy in some way.

my work is finding a way on it's own. that is all i've ever wanted.