Soundclip from Alabama

Here's a rough soundclip of one of my favorite stories, told to a group of Montessori students.

http://www.imeem.com/people/iMBY0kZ/music/AiapYOun/kali-ferguson-alabama-trip-recording-1-sack-of-truthmp3/

The kids get a little loud at times, but you'll get the gist.

25 minute sample of my program on Spain (Birmingham, AL)

http://www.imeem.com/people/iMBY0kZ/music/91boj74u/dr000042mp3/

This is an unedited, hot off the presses sound clip of the program I did in Alabama to celebrate Spain in elementary schools.

I better explain the first part. I used a song called Runali by Ojos de Brujo (a fierce collective from Spain with flamenco roots and all-world wings) to teach basic flamenco hands. Then comes the story, The Sack of Truth. So you may need to forward to around minute 4 or 5.

Edited versions of sound recordings coming soon...

Don't leave me now, I'm just getting started.

Creatively,

Kali

Short video of AL school visit (thanks, Larry!)

More Alabama memories:

Here's a short video of me teaching basic flamenco hands to kids in a school which includes many many children with special needs.

Alabama Slamma! Whatever that means...

I went to AL last week to visit 6 schools and a YWCA program with an hour program on Spain (the country of focus for the Birmingham International Center who hired me). We learned Spanish words through traditional stories from Spain and beginners' flamenco dance. The kids were wonderful and despite some financial and minor health difficulties, I enjoyed the experience immensely.

The highlight for me was to get away with wearing clothes with ruffles and flinging them around like the Spaniard I have always secretly seen in myself. The kids bought it, even though I admitted to them I'm a Carolina gal by birth. Worldwide, baby, worldwide!

I will attempt to post a sound and/or video clip of one of my visits asap.

Stick with me....

I am amazed at the stories, just stories so far, I heard today at training for my fellowship at Hemby Children's Hospital. So many times I ask God why I have to deal with my experiences with bipolar disorder or my hereditary dis-ease or the insecurities I harbor. But knowing that these children, who at such a young age go through chemo-therapy and have tubes stuck all up in them all the time and for weeks or months don't see the light of day or run around a yard - knowing that they still smile and joke and laugh and RECOVER humbles me. It lets me know that the human spirit is resilient and not confined by physical health or luck and that each breath is a miracle for each one of us, whether we recognize that or not.

I ask that I be a vessel for their healing and mine through creative writing and storytelling. I am grateful for this opportunity to learn.

symphony intro draft & a random essay question

First, my silly musing about a store I pass on the way to everywhere:

Essay Question:
If you were a plus-sized woman, would you buy your clothes at a tiny strip-mall store named JUST BIG? Why or why not?

(I thought that was the most raw-dog name of a store I have seen b/c when someone says you are JUST BIG, it is usually followed with the phrase "for no damn reason at all." That means people can't even believe your size much less approve of it.) My brother says it must be a men's store 'cause men don't care. I hope so, otherwise, they gone run their customers away! I mean, BIG BONED would even be a step up. I know, I know, it's random but I had to muse. *makes pseudo-apologetic face*

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Ok now for the more serious part of the blog. See below for a draft of the intro I will speak for the MLK Day program I am doing for the symphony on protest music. Imagine these words (or others, after some rewrites) voiced atop a beautifully haunting melancholy song played by a string quartet....

across centuries
through millennia
over oceans and mountains
in cities and townships and ghettos
in all places holding human life

from the hearts of those of us born
into a skin or gender or religion or way
devalued, despised, misunderstood, exploited
by moral tyrants
blinded by their own inadequacies
controlled by a small-hearted greed
for false and forceful power
tyrants who cut off their own hands
with the violence they choose to throw
upon us, upon those who spark their envy
by virtue of our soulful existence

there rises up and out of us a crythe age-old question
why and how did this oppression become our destiny?
who will save us and give us our due?

and always, the clenched fists
and grinding jaws we hide,
the exasperations and burdens we carry,
our frustrated tears and sobs turn into
our own answers to ourselves

in the form of a song
song - intersection of heart, soul, spirit, and justice.
we break down walls with our hopeful voices, our insistent rhythms,
our melodies of wisdom, our music

our music - strong enough to shake & silence the cruelest offender
our music - light enough to lift the lowest spirit

with our music, with our music
we have learned to sing up freedom
we have learned to sing up freedom
with our song

If you like what you read, come to the actual show on Sunday, January 18, 2009 at 3pm at the Levine Museum of the New South. We'll be singing, you'll be singing, it'll be a good time! This is part of the Bridging Musical Worlds series honoring Martin Luther King's birthday. And yup, it's free! For the full schedule, click below:

http://www.charlottesymphony.org/Specials.asp#Bridging

Have a creative day y'all,
Kalicious

Love and Jheri Curls (sp?)

I may well miss the days of jheri curls and serenades - what say you? Do you hold any memories of the '80's as dear as I do? You don't have to write an essay about it. The answer is obvious. Of course you miss the '80's, or parts of it. VH1 wouldn't have made it this far without tapping into our nostalgia!

Is it discrimination that the lead singer of the MD's (what does that stand for anyway - are they doctors of love?) is the only group member with no hair (it appears, though, that one member has graduated to a quasi-S curl, or do my eyes deceive me?)? Curl-wearers, rise up!

Ironically I was in the bank today and smelled the old familiar smell of the drip drip. I tried to find the owner of the classic curl but saw only perms and white people. But I know a curl when I smell one, and I have heard there are still survivers rocking the 'do. I hate not, I just comment.

Nevertheless, love is tender. I can say that for sure nowadays. Feels good!

What a year, what a day! Poem drafts too...

Ay de mi, this day is one that has God's name stamped and splattered all over it. I am grateful to look back on 08 with gratitude for all the ups, downs, emotions, economic crises, and lessons it gifted me/us. But honey, it is TIME for the GET DOWN. 09 promises more than perhaps any year to date, both collectively and personally. Can't wait!

Happy New Year, y'all! Please accept my offering of some poem drafts I am working on. Kirsten and Derrick, thanks in advance for your companionship on this writing road.

Sewing 101
I am pure love
all bundled up
in a crazy wad
of rags -
soft, bright, mixed,
and torn
wishing
a loving hand
would stitch them all
together
create
a comfort-quilt
to cover
lonely hearts
broken dreams
angry minds
lull them all
into slumber
switch their nightmares
for a dream of wholeness
complete surrender
to the Great Seamstress
who connects every soul
with the waking peace
that hides behind
our every breath.

Essay question: Is it un-Christian/Muslim/Jewish to celebrate God as both Him and Her? Why or why not?
--------------------------------
Bounce-Back
It doesn't hurt so much when
I cut out my heart
to offer up
every time I fall (in love?).
Why?
Because I trust that
I will grow a stronger, wiser one
as the starfish regenerates limbs
after severing.
---------------------------------
Untitled - not necessarily a poem but a thought
Sometimes I can't believe
how ironically beautiful and powerful
we are and don't know it
can't see it
refuse to give our glory
a chance.
This goes for almost
everyone I've ever met
(at various points in life at least).
Deep down we don't
dare love ourselves exactly as we are.

Essay Question: What is the fear of success? How does it manifest? Give tangible examples.
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P.S. The Essay Questions are just my personal musings put in that sickening 9th grade writing prompt form I used to hate. In essence, they are a bitter homage to over-structured education.
Thank goodness those days are behind me!

Love you - all of you,
Kali
Oh, and have a creative YEAR!

Poetry Class of 1?

So I am dedicated to write everyday through the end of time. A new form I am trying is syllabic verse, where each line of each stanza has the same # of syllables as the corresponding lines in each other stanza.

Here's my 1st attempt.

Of course it's about a man.

And trust me, he's lush and luscious (but the situation is a tad tricky). Here goes -

"I wonder..."

silly wishing
won't make our
energies disconnect.

question is, will
your sighs on
my earlobes satiate

our tense yearning
and nervous
need to delve and combine?

or should we move
in closer
giving desire her way?

Collaboration is the new Black!

I had a great meeting with my photographer/ artist friend Chad, and we have sketched out an awesome Pecha Kucha project for January, a commentary on the impersonal fakeness of conducting relationships only online. We started a storyboard and everything! I think our talents will go together well, with me doing the verbalizing and his pictures visually telling the story we want to portray.

I am also pairing up with David Crowe, a composer, percussionist, and teaching artist for a celebration on Protest Music through space and time for the Charlotte Symphony. The show is on January 18, 2009 at 3pm at the Levine Museum. David and I met for coffee and quickly drew up a tentative show based on our complementary talents.

A few months ago I decided to work with other artists more often. It is happening and feeling exquisite. So many dimensions are added when I can work with people whose vision and follow-through I trust. So I am grateful to be able to see and participate in my colleagues' brilliance, all the while shining brighter because of them.