GROUP NAME: BubbleMania NOTE: We are still in the planning stage, so this is still subject to / refinement. DESCRIPTION: Developmen…
GROUP NAME: BubbleMania NOTE: We are still in the planning stage, so this is still subject to / refinement. DESCRIPTION: Development and Implementation group whose aim is to promote / RedBubble, its artists and their work to the global community with the / express purpose of drawing consumer traffic to discover for themselves the / wonderful work / available at RedBubble. GOALS: A group think tank, code & ad repository, and R&D group whose aim is / to develop programs, assets, and strategies for better promoting RedBubble / and its artists to the global community. This would include: a script, code, ad, and banner repository planning and implementation strategies coordination schemes so artists can develop marketing and promotional / collaborations USE OF GALLERIES: Galleries of art, t-shirts and writing would be geared / toward harvesting “signature works” of artists who want their work included / in any promotional efforts launched on RedBubble’s and its artists behalf. DETAILS AND GUIDELINES Each artist may upload one signature piece of artwork/t-shirt art/writing / per / promotion. By adding the work to the proper galleries, they are agreeing / that their may be proliferated around the WWW to advertise RedBubble, / themselves, and all other RedBubble artists. A signature / work is a work of art created by you which you consider best represents you / and your art. It is / one which you would, now and in the future, freely and proudly claim as a / work representative of you and the body of your artistic creations.
It all started on December 20th,2007. Larry Smith sat on the edge of his bed with his 2 best friends sitting on the floor.”Man,Larry i ca…
It all started on December 20th,2007. Larry Smith sat on the edge of his bed with his 2 best friends sitting on the floor.”Man,Larry i can`t wait for christmas.I think my mom and dad is getting me that XBOX 360 i`ve been bragging about all week.” One of the boys said to Larry. “Yeah, i think my moms gonna get me that Dirt Bike and Four Wheller i`ve been asking for.” Another boy said. ” What happened to you guys holiday spirit.Christmas is suppose to be about Santa Clause and the egg nog that you drink at parties.” Larry told them.”Come on Larry you know we stopped believing in santa clause a long time ago.” Travis said. “Yeah Larry you need to listen to Travis. He may not always be right but i agree with him on this one. All i look forward to on Christmas is the presents and spending time with my mom.It`s the only time of the year she can spends all day with me instead of just 10 lowsy minutes” Andy said.” You guys are probably right. But is that all you really look forward to on Christmas?” Larry asked”No.Not really i also like the parties i go to and seeing people i never met before.”Travis answered.Bright and early the next morning Larry got up made him some breakfast set at the family table and thought about what his friends said.Then a knock came on the door.Larrys big sister Jena rushed downstairs and pushed larry so she could get to the door first.”Who is it!!!!” Hollard Jena.”Travis and Andy can Larry come out?”They asked.Jena unlocked the door and said….... “It`s your dorkish friends”. As they walked in they looked at Larry in a unfamilair way.”What”. Larry said spitting his ceral everywhere.”Come on dude don`t tell me you forgot. It`s saturday morning for petes sake why are you still in your PJ`s we are suppose to be out shopping for gifts for our moms and dads. But in Andys case mom.”Said Travis.”Oh. Yeah right the shopping.Sorry you guys i can`t make it.”Larry said.”Why not you`ve been saying you would be free on today.You even made a promise that you would`nt bail out at the last minute.” Andy said.”Yeah i know but.Ummmmmmmmmmm.I…I.I have to help Jena get ready for her prom tonight.” Larry said taking a big spoonful of ceral in his mouth.”What. My prom is`nt until a month from now.Look you guys Larrys lying he does`nt have anything to do but sleep.He was up all night doing some homework.” Jena said.”But we didn`t have any homework!”Travis yelled.Jena ran upstairs as fast as she could.”Look Larry you are my best friend but if you keep continuing to lie like this.We won`t have a friendship!Now are you going or not?”Travis asked angerly.”Alright im going.Give me 5 minutes to change.”Said Larry.”Alright 5 minutes or else.”Andy said.”Don`t push it And”.Said Larry.As Larry ran upstairs Jena looked at him and started laughing.Larry wondered why she was laughing but he didn`t ask he just looked at her and ran in his room.After larry put on his stuff he ran outside to Andy and Travis.”Right on time too.”Travis said. As they left off the porch they ran into 2 old enemies.Alex Matason and Bug Brain.”Well,well,well.Look what the cat spit out.Alex Matason and Bug Brain.” Said Travis.”Aw Travis i think you better leave them alone they got a dog.”Said Larry.”Stop being such a wimp Lar they are not gonna do anything with those dogs.”Said Andy.”I think you need to listen to your boy for you get wiped on my by me and my homeboy.Oh and lil Sparky here to.” Said Bug Brain.”Like i said before you ain`t do nothing with that mutt or your homeboy.”Travis said to Bug Brain. “Didn`t we teach you last that you should mind who you talk to.”Said Andy. “What punk i`ll whip your tail.”Said Bug Brain.”Sick`em boy”.Then the boys started to run with the dog on there tail and the other 2 boys behind them.They hit the corner and lost Bug Brain,Alex,and the dog.”Man that was a close one when are you two gonna learn how to keep your big mouths shut you almost got us killed today. Didn`t you see how big that dog was.He could have eaten us alive.” Said Larry.”Stop your worries he was just trying to scare us.” Said Travis.”Well it worked thanks to you and Andy.By the way where is Andy.”Asked Larry. Then they heard a scream. It was Andy they had caught him and the dog was eating him up.”Help, help.Help me Travis,Larry help!”yelled Andy.”Leave him alone he didn`t do anything to you or that mingy mutt.”Said Travis.”You know you got alot of nerve talking to me and my boy like that.” Said Alex.”You aint gonna do nuttin punk about it”said Travis.”Yeah aight.Try me.”Said Alex.Alex threw the first punch and bam. Travis was out like a light.When he woke up he was in a wheelchair in the middle of a hospital.”Wha…what happened?”asked Travis.”Alex threw the first punch and you went down like that.”Larry said snapping his fingers.That can`t be possible he was just right here.”Said Travis.”Yeah hours ago.”Said Andy.”Andy buddy are you alright all i remember was that Alex and Bug Brain`s dog was eating you up and bitting you with his visus teeth.”Said Travis sadly.”Yeah im okay thanks to you and Larry.Larry was amazing after you and Bug Brain got into it and he knoced you out.Larry jumped in it and took on both of them.But he got knocked down.And had a slittyly sprained arm.But thats okay he just has to rest for the next 2 weeks or so.”Andy said.”Man what are we gonna tell our parents?”Asked Travis scared.”I don`t know about you but me and Andy already called our moms and dads explaining what had happened.”Said Larry.”What.Ya`ll just going to let me hang like that.Ya`ll suppose to be my boys we look after each other.”Travis told them.”I know,i know,i know.But this time we couldn`t bail you out you made your own desicion nobody asked you to help me.”Said Andy.”Hold up, hold up,hold up. You were the one screaming like a little girl talking bout.Travis Larry help please help me.”Travis said immatating a girl.”Yeah but how was i suppose to know you were acutually gonna help?”Asked Andy.”Because were boys and like i said we look after each other.”Said Travis.”Man i am in so much trouble.I can’t stand ya`ll”Yelled Travis.”Yall couldn`t bail me out this 1 time”Said Travis.”Travis we have been bailing you out ever since…..well forever.”Said Larry.Later that day when Travis arrived home he had a sprained arm a concusion on his head and a broken leg.”Mom and dad now before you say anything they started it.We were on our way to the mall when they said they were…...Well you know.”Said Travis.”No i don`t know Travis tell me.”Said his father angerly.”well it all sstarted like this.”He said studdering
55million old global warming / Climatic Chain Reaction Caused Runaway Greenhouse Effect 55 Million Years Ago / From: Utrecht University / P…
55million old global warming / Climatic Chain Reaction Caused Runaway Greenhouse Effect 55 Million Years Ago / From: Utrecht University / Published December 26, 2007 10:55 AM RELATED ARTICLES / • Ancient British Bog May Hold Climate Change Clues / • FACTBOX: Methane, from Cow Burps to Rice Paddies / • Study Says Methane a New Climate Threat / • Carbon dioxide at record high, stoking warming: WMO Analogous to the Earth’s current situation, greenhouse warming 55 million years ago was caused by a relatively rapid increase of CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere. This phase, known as the Paleocene-Eocene thermal maximum (PETM), was studied using sediments that accumulated 55 million years ago on the ocean floor in what is now New Jersey. / The new study shows that a large proportion of the greenhouse gases was released as a result of a chain-reaction of events. Probably due to intense volcanic activity, CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere became higher and the ensuing greenhouse effect warmed the Earth. As a result, submarine methane hydrates (ice-like structures in which massive amounts of methane are stored) melted and released large amounts of methane into the atmosphere. / This further amplified the magnitude of global warming, which comprised about 6o C in total. The study is the first to show such a chain reaction during rapid warming in a ‘greenhouse world’. / The new research confirms that global warming can stimulate mechanisms that release massive amounts of stored carbon into the atmosphere. Current and future warming will likely see similar effects, such as methane hydrate dissociation, adding additional greenhouse gases to those resulting from fossil fuel burning. / Last year, the same group of researchers showed in Nature that tropical algae migrated into the Arctic Ocean during the PETM, when temperatures rose to 24oC. Current climate models are not capable of simulating such high temperatures in the Arctic, which has repercussions for the predictions of future climate change. In addition to Al Gore’s presentation, this type of research shows what a greenhouse world looks like, including palm trees and crocodiles in the Arctic. / Journal Article: ”˜Environmental precursors to rapid light carbon injection at the Palaeocene/Eocene boundary’ by Appy Sluijs, Henk Brinkhuis, Stefan Schouten, Steven M. Bohaty, Cédric M. John, James C. Zachos, Gert-Jan Reichart, Jaap S. Sinninghe Damsté, Erica M. Crouch & Gerald R. Dickens. Nature. December 20, 2007.
I wrote thanking the 2000 people who had viewed my work, I couldn’t believe it. I am even less able to believe that a further 1000 have l…
I wrote thanking the 2000 people who had viewed my work, I couldn’t believe it. I am even less able to believe that a further 1000 have looked at them since then. Thank you all so very much. I am very honoured to have such lovely companions on this site. Bless you all.
Being a curious cat, I came to check out this site after an email from a friend peeked my curiosity. I liked what I saw and decide to jo…
Being a curious cat, I came to check out this site after an email from a friend peeked my curiosity. I liked what I saw and decide to join this group of wonderful people. Nine days ago I decided to purchase one on my prints mounted, to check out the quality of the printing. Today I came home from work and found the package sitting at my door, with great expectation, a little curiosity, and lots of excitement I open the package and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the work and it was ready to hang on the wall, Thank you RedBubble.
“You must be brave enough to live your dreams”, a quote that resonates within my mind, reminding like a domineering parent “It rains a…
“You must be brave enough to live your dreams”, a quote that resonates within my mind, reminding like a domineering parent “It rains again / like quivering thoughts” – am I brave enough to extricate the pain, the hopes and emotions and lay them out for my own eyes and for the gaze of others, as they read some of my world curious or perhaps scoffing, indifferently skimming “Trying to escape—seeking out the winged exist, stammering but constantly looking with sleepy eyes and a dreamy gaze”- trying to escape. Absolutely. First I was trying to run away from everything taking me away from my true self, everything that didn’t give me that internal tingle, everything that didn’t feel as if it was created from rays of light, and that wouldn’t fit or complete a design in the intricate tapestry of my soul. Everything that didn’t make me want to sing, dance, write or cry. And then I started running away from everything that reminded me of my unbound self / And slowly settled for drab walls, for lethal realism, and missed the many winged exists right in front of my eyes. “The same familiar scents permeate the air, the same scenes a never ending sea / What do I say? Why wrap my soul in vague confusion, in voiceless words, in mysterious melodies? Not knowing who to trust where to let my soul sleep, how to set it free” Yes it’s a repeating cyclical journey, a baffling confusing maze. I remember a friend of mine once said: there isn’t only one path that we are supposed to find / But a path that leads to another path that leads to another, I need to set my soul free by going freely from one path to another / Freely. / “A healing, I reach out to it with both hands / The serenity of knowing how to let go, how to undress the soul, layer by layer and let it bask under the rays of the sun” It rains again.
I have always been glued to tv documentaries about Africa, way back when ‘The World Around Us’ was on (I was 6 years old). So when I trav…
I have always been glued to tv documentaries about Africa, way back when ‘The World Around Us’ was on (I was 6 years old). So when I travelled to Africa back in 2001, whoah 7 years ago, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. From trekking to see the mountain gorillas, being charged by a hippo, taking photos, meeting wonderful friends, talking swahili to a zanzibarian, learning about african dreams and coming home with a deep appreciation for what we have. I know I will go back one day. Until then I will continue to look over my photos reliving incredible memories. Here’s a couple of pics of me back then. I remember kids coming up to touch my white skin. I glowed compared to them! When i was in Rwanda, a bunch of kids kept staring at me, I didnt understand why, until they pointed to my black sunglasses – they could see their reflection for the first time. Showing Ugandan women what i see through my camera Rift Valley Morning Walk in Kenya Sipi Falls, Uganda Ngorongoro Crater, Tanzania For more African Photos click here
Songs have a life and a nature of dictator – they oblige you to remembrance, they slam it on your face without modesty and so you see and…
Songs have a life and a nature of dictator – they oblige you to remembrance, they slam it on your face without modesty and so you see and feel and also smell the colour and the odour of that notes, in that day, a day which has ever more or less ten years and a century on its shoulders. / And today it happens to me to sense again – wonderful bastard – a song which has still now the taste of that highway, windy and made of salt (the one which reaches a beach). / There was that cliched italian sun and the skin of fever and a man i don’t forget (but I lost his voice). / Everything still to live. And it’s out of focus but in that moment i thought a poetic fear – / if (for a mistake) / i cut my life line / on my hand’s palm / will I die young? / Oh please, don’t / not today (it’s perfect) “Baby baby baby light my way” sang the radio. The palm’s lines are still intact – / so will i die old? And the truth is that / that song / doesn’t end / never. Le canzoni hanno una vita e una natura di dittatore – ti obbligano al ricordo, te lo sbattano addosso senza umiltà e tu eccoti che vedi e senti e annusi persino il colore e l’odore di quelle note, in quel giorno, un giorno che ha sempre più o meno dieci anni e un secolo sulle spalle. / E oggi mi capita di risentire – meraviglioso bastardo – un pezzo che mi sa ancora di autostrada, una di quelle ventose e di salsedine, che vanno verso qualche spiaggia. / Non ricordo che momento d’estate fosse, ma ben chiara la musica, i miei venti anni di spigoli stanchi (eppure sempre venti anni). / C’era quel nostro sole italiano da stereotipo e la pelle di febbre e un uomo in erba che non ho proprio scordato, ma di cui ho perso la voce. / Ogni cosa ancora da vivere. E non c’entra nulla ma so per certo di aver pensato una paura poetica e immaginifica, in quel momento – / se mi tagliassi per sbaglio / sul palmo della mano / con un coltellino / la linea della vita a metà, / morirei giovane? / Oddio no, non oggi, oggi è perfetto. “Baby baby baby light my way”, cantava la strofa. Poi infine la mie linee non son state tagliate - / morirò dunque vecchia? E la verità è / che / quella canzone / non è mai / finita.
Ten minutes ago, I was looking out the window, and the prettiest robin flew down and perched on our garden fence. He was framed for the p…
Ten minutes ago, I was looking out the window, and the prettiest robin flew down and perched on our garden fence. He was framed for the perfect shot. Alas, no sooner had I thought to grab the camera, when it flew away. Why does this always happen to poor old me.? (Never mind, I’m just looking for sympathy.) lol
A year ago today I became a RedBubble member. 766 images and 81,845 views later, I am still here…. all because of you. / ....an…
A year ago today I became a RedBubble member. 766 images and 81,845 views later, I am still here…. all because of you. / ....and I T H A N K Y O U!
I almost let this slip by. I wasn’t on the RB during Christmas with sickness and all the rushing around of the Holidays. I would like to …
I almost let this slip by. I wasn’t on the RB during Christmas with sickness and all the rushing around of the Holidays. I would like to thank the moderators of this group for featuring this work of mine. / God Bless You All! / Seth
was the worst day of my life this is why It’s…
was the worst day of my life this is why It’s hard to get over / but he’s in a better place / and as my dad gets older / I realize that I need to enjoy having him around until this day will be sad for two reasons, and that even though a life was taken, it made me grow closer with another, my dad’s
oh wow…. now this is an absolutely STUNNING experience to me!!! not 3 hours ago did i upload this image to RB and now it has a feature!...
oh wow…. now this is an absolutely STUNNING experience to me!!! not 3 hours ago did i upload this image to RB and now it has a feature!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH.. Ushna Sardar and theyellowfury from CORE (C.O.R.E.) for featuring On the Edge
Good things come in threes, right? I’ve just realised that this is my third year in this wondrous world we call Red Bubble….so pleas…
Good things come in threes, right? I’ve just realised that this is my third year in this wondrous world we call Red Bubble….so please indulge me while I reminisce, as befits a good Cancerian! I found this second home through the newsletter of a writing group. They were advertising RB’s ‘Unleashed’ competition in April 2007 and I, just home from a stay overseas and determined to get serious about my writing, uploaded my Fire piece. It was the first time I’d ever sent my words out into world, and at 3am that night I woke in a cold sweat and deleted it. I mean, people might actually read it and know what I thought – terrifying! I uploaded it again a few hours later and the shaking lasted all day. As soon as the first person commented, however, I was drawn into this bubbling world and my life shifted a touch to the left, and took me somewhere I’d never anticipated. My first bubble meeting was at Flinders Street Station on a sunny Sunday. I lingered across the road, spying at the bubblers gathering and willing myself to head over. The red balloons finally lured me over, and presented me with two amazing women who’ve become my closest friends: LisaG and Jess Tremp. Not a week goes by that I don’t cackle with these wenches over a bottle of red wine, and I simply can’t remember what I did without them in my life. / with Lisa / with Jess The next deep breath I took was to launch myself into the first Melbourne Red Bubble holiday – a long weekend down at Lorne in 2007, where the constant clicking of cameras, the flood of vanilla vodka and a full moon over the ocean gave me much to write about. I ended up putting down roots in this amazing community and somehow slid into the role of co-host of the Melbourne & Victoria group – everyone knows it’s the most kickarse group on RB! – and host of the monthly writers’ meetings, which have provided some of my all-time favourite RB memories. / December 2007 – a bunch of bubblers / February 2008 – the wonderful Michael Alesich, who understands my need for angry ducks and Jess Tremp, aka Monty Sparrow / me / June 2008 – Yasemin Sumner & Lucky Vegetable, both extraordinarily talented and prone to the odd shimmy with me on a sunny Sunday afternoon / July 2008 – the fabulous Chris White, who shares a love of Cult songs and Drambuie with me / August 2008 – my lovely Lisa and the ebullient Miss Kristy / February 2009 – Paul Louis Villani…with hugs well worth waiting for! / Yase, aka Cricket Childe / February 2009 – Me with the stunning Holly Ringland, whose presence by my side is always required (and whose red lipstick is always admired) / Pinning my friends down in ink, as is my way….my little red notebook hears all! / Wenchly scribes at Madame Brussels That’s not even mentioning the interstate visits of the fabulous Little Helen and the wonderful Holly Ringland, where the pomegranate sauce flowed and the honey martinis caused many a ruckus. / Totem poles with Lucky, Yase and Paul / The glorious LittleHelen and Holly But this community goes deeper than just someone to meet up with over a glass of wine. When my flat was burgled and I lost thousands of dollars of belongings just before I was to head overseas, including all my writing on my new laptop, it took only a few days before my beloved crew called me to a bar and passed across the money they’d raised: $700, plus offers of a new camera and laptop. I will honestly never forget the warmth and love I received at this god awful time in my life, and I’ll never stop being grateful. I did get to Iceland & Berlin, where I also caught up with the always entertaining (not to mention hot and surly) Dave Spencer. Finding copious bmails from bubblers around the world every time I checked in made every step of my journey all the more joyous. / / We’ve had many a night spent in the back room of my favourite bar with funk music & martinis, we’ve had weekend getaways with a defrosted octopus and sun dappled bathtubs; there have been collaborations and collectives and more romances than I have permission to detail (you know who you are) and always, always cameras clicking. / Greed collaboration / Greed collaboration / Rosebud holiday / Rosebud holiday I’ve even moved from shielding my face from the camera to doing some modelling for trusted friends ...though it took me two years to stop scowling. I can’t imagine my life without so many of these incredible people in it. I’ve just flown in from a weekend with the glorious Holly Ringland in Canberra, where the birds reigned supreme, the red cocktails flowed, coconut scented the air and our tastebuds, and the laughter hurt my ribcage. This woman will be by my side until I finally cap my pen, and I know we have many a martini to go. Baby, I even wore bunny ears for you! / / / In June, I’m picking the fabulous LittleHelen up in Sydney and together we’ll wing our way over to LA to stay with the divine MsTrace for more wickedness than I can imagine. Then, just in time for my birthday, the three of us will strut through the streets of New York City & if you happen to hear us cackling from your place, well, what can I say? ‘Tis to be expected, after all! But it’s the writing that pulled me in this direction, and the writing that’s kept me here. As most of the scribes on RB know, this site is not catered to us, but we can squirm our way in when we know how. I’ve been privileged enough to be part of the “In The Moment” & “The City” books, as well as helping to judge “Nude”, and I have full faith that this site will continue to evolve in our direction. That’s not to say we shouldn’t keep nudging the bubble elves in that direction, of course. For me, my writing has taken a whole new turn since my first post here. I know this is what I want to do with my life, and since gathering steam here I’ve been brave enough to send my work out to publishers and editors. In eighteen months I’ve had nine stories accepted for publication, have begun my first novel, and have just been asked to speak at the Melbourne Emerging Writers’ Festival. I have words gushing out my fingertips and I can honestly say I wouldn’t be at this point without you, the wonderful bubble family leaving comments on my work and making suggestions and basically reminding me that while the ink is flowing, all is well in my world. Forgive me for not mentioning everyone who’s enriched my life here, for there are so, so many…..I trust that you know who you are by now! So thank you. And happy anniversary. Now go and write something…..or take some photos. And then post about it. I’ll be waiting….... X Note: I’ve pulled the images from various forums and my previous journals and am not quite sure what belongs to whom…if it’s yours and you’d like it to be deleted or credited, just say the word :-)
My eyeballs felt like they were floating somewhere near my forehead as I looked back down the aisle that I couldn’t even remember walking…
My eyeballs felt like they were floating somewhere near my forehead as I looked back down the aisle that I couldn’t even remember walking up seconds before. I clutched the folded pieces of paper with their neatly printed and spaced words. One or two of them had hasty pen marks where last second changes were made. / “This was a real dumb idea” I thought to myself, Hang on, hang on . Let’s go back a bit so this makes a bit more sense. Some time in October I paid my first visit to the Local Art Gallery called the Hut, something I’d been meaning to do for ages but somehow also managed to put off. / This little Gallery has had Fern Tree Gully grown up around it in it’s 60 odd years of existence and is a cultural treasure of the Dandenong foothills. / This time I had a reason to visit. Our daughter wanted to join an Art Society to learn more about painting and The Hut offered such courses, since it was a lovely Sunday afternoon we thought we would finally make the visit. The volunteer ladies who greeted us were incredibly helpful and gave us lots of useful information and the Missus and I had a look at the latest display of art that was showing. I even bought the incredibly cheap “History of the Hut” for $3. / Anyway – there is a story and a point here – we left to go somewhere up the mountain and later that afternoon drove back past the gallery and there were people everywhere making their way into the building. / “Did I miss something when we were here earlier?” I asked the wife / “Obviously”, she replied “Didn’t you see the sign for the Poetry and Writing Afternoon?” / I didn’t answer because :One – I didn’t and two: my mind was already ticking over as I thought “What a great review that would make for the paper” / So later when I got home I dragged out the local paper and found the add promoting these meets and as luck would have it, the last was the next month coming. / I told the Missus about this idea and promptly forgot but she didn’t and reminded me on the day the next meet was what I planned to do. / Of course I hadn’t planned a thing and decided there and then that the only way to best review a writing and poetry session was to become part of it myself. It said that everyone got 5 minutes on the flyer they had so I automatically took that to be an open mike at the end of some more serious and professionals types who would lead the show. and there’d be no room for a “newbie” like me. / Oh how wrong was I. / I arrived at the Gallery about 3.20 PM for a half-past start and there already was only a few seats empty. Alex, who was running the show, met me almost on entry to the main hall. Alex was also MC and made sure everything runs to schedule. / He asked me if I it was my first visit and if I was reading? / Right there was my escape but Alex was so pleasant and enthusiastic I just nodded and patted my pieces of paper that I had hastily shoveled into my back pocket. / Alex looked pleased and put my name on a white board that had a list of names running down it in three lines. I was smack bang in the middle of the second line, about 12th in turn. / I sat down in the last row and made myself comfortable, the heat from the previous week has abated and it was quite pleasant in the hall and stayed that way for the whole afternoon. / I observed the crowd and they were a cross section of age group and sex and everybody seemed quite pleasant and enjoying each other company. / In no time the board of names was full and at 3.30 the show began. / Now I now poetry and prose reading isn’t everybody’s cup of tea but it is a lot more popular than people let on and it covers a massive range and styles. / It was obvious which of these people had worked the audience before and more so the ones who hadn’t. / A few of the first timers must have imagined their poetry would be accepted more readily or that their delivery would be more masterful. / Often I’d see a look of confusion as a self predicted “Killer” line went passed the crowd and splattered on the wall behind them. / A few stumbled but all were greeted with polite applause. / Others just mumbled into their pages of words and left with their eyes staring at the floor. / But for every miss there were massive hits. / One older lady in her 70s did a reciting of a personal story many years ago in her life about lost love that was flawless. / Her delivery , diction and tone were something to experience just to be shown how it should be done. A young girl who was sitting next me recited some clever poems for children that involved saying phrases backward. / Without going into great detail there was bush poetry, humorous poems, cautionary tales and even songs. / Everyone had a different style and delivery. The crowd was attentive and even without a microphone the mildest voices could be heard clearly. / There however was one disturbing thread and I found this also true with some of the writing here on Red Bubble. / There was an unusual amount of poems relating to sexual abuse on a personal level. This carried a bit of sympathy and even shock value the first time but when it was almost 15% of the days reading suspicion seeps in and I wondered if this was an attention-seeking device. / I was tempted to hand out the local Police station number or ask them to change the name of the afternoon to the Sexual Abuse Support Day. I know this is a major problem that was even more rampant in less unenlightened times but I was a bit concerned at it all. The boards first line of readers seemed to flow quite evenly and I thought I’ll get this over with quick smart and then for some reason time started to stand still and with 2 people still to read before me a break was called and the audience all went for afternoon tea. / This was a godsend because by this time (nearly and hour an a half into proceeding) I had foolishly forgotten my drink bottle and was parched. It also gave me a chance to talk to some other people who were reading and they gave me good advice and encouragement when I told them I was ready to run for the door I was getting that nervous. / After a refreshing cuppa and cake it was back to business, I managed to sneak a cordial for my continuing drying throat and it started to look at my ancient poems I had printed off my computer after lunch in an attempt to find something worth reading. I chose 3 silly ones and one serious and in my head reckoned they would take about 3 minutes to read which included embarrassing pauses in between to let the audience know I had finished one and was ready to start the next. / Well the moment came. Alex stood up and introduced me and to welcome me because it was my first time. / Polite applause. / Cue back to the opening paragraph. / I’ve read in public many times before but in all those times I’d at least prepared or at least knew my audience. / This was reading stuff I thought was good to total strangers, who probably thought different. / After the scattered applause died down I fumbled the papers and realized I had no order in which to read. I quickly decided that blitz them with funny and leave them teary eyed with my classic heartbreaker Binalong Ave / To my surprise the first two went marvelous despite my waiving voice full of nerves. / The mob (as I saw them now) laughed in the right places and even applauded twice. / Then I went straight to my heartbreaker and people laughed at the first line before they realized the joker had turned serious. My intro didn’t help which went something like: / “.Ah.. this is about my growing up place and….ahh . my ..Mum ..who doesn’t live there anymore” or some gibberish like that. / When I finished I was greeted with that stony silence I was dreading before someone realized I had finished and started the obligatory polite applause. / I looked at Alex to see if I could read my last poem and he waved his hands and whispered we were running over time. / Banished, from hero to zero in 45 seconds. / I left the podium and made my way back to the back row still wearing my glasses which I only use for reading and nearly tripped over the girl sitting next to me. / A few people commented on my work saying I did well. / Which was par for the course because everyone was super supportive I can’t emphasis this enough. / After me came two people who were regulars who dribbled on about absolute bullshit, one recited someone else’s song and tried to start a singalong and another lady tried to teach us how to beat the system and get out of credit card debt by emailing the CEO of the multinational company who issued the card. / Both pointless and in the later highly unlikely. Neither were poems or prose just soap boxing. / What pissed me off was the fact they both went twice as long as my slot and bored me shitless. / I could of read my last poem and vindicated myself. Later when I went outside to make a call because the afternoon was running way overtime and I was going to miss a pick up for my son another gent come out to congratulate me on what he thought was great work, it just so happened to be that his work was one of the ones I admired as well because he wrote with a rhyme and timing not really preformed a lot at today’s meeting. / He asked “Why was I cut short?” and I told I wasn’t sure but I wished they’d done the same to some of the others and he wholeheartedly agreed.. He said his first visit was last month and there was that many people it ran till 7.00PM. / I reckon they smelled that I was not a “true believer” a “Rat in the ranks” to expose their true dealings. / What I can report is that poetry and prose reading is very strong in the my local area if my visit is anything to go by and with such a great venue and supportive crowd and attendants you really can’t go wrong and I advice anybody with the slightest interest to a burning passion to give it a go either as a spectator or participant. It cost next to nothing and you’ll meet like-minded people and who knows you might even surprise yourself, / Oh, by the way. Poetry still hasn’t won me over. Originally submitted as my monthly article for the local paper but with extra bits added becuase I can express myself a lot more freely on the Bubble. / Reference: / RB Poetry Guide / Poetry -Why I hate it.
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