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659, 
02:41, 
2008-04-22 09:25:51 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV. Artwork included in the projected "television" display included: The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland. These are the writing included in the live show: the poem: Paranoia we sit here at dinner. I try to breathe. My hands rest on my thighs. I must watch to be sure, everything must be right: the silverware, small fork, large fork, plate, knife, large spoon, small spoon. Water glass. Wine glass. I know no one else sees them: the fish, the red fish, in the curtains along the wall. You have to watch them. My eyes always glance there. They are evil fish. They sit in the curtains, they wait, and then they come out. And the yogurt, the yogurt is the only thing that can save me from them. throw the yogurt, take a spoon, use your hands. Anything. And we sat there before dinner, and he ate his yogurt with his first spoon before I could stop him. How could you do this? How can you save yourself now? Will I have to save you again, do you even understand the danger — the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone. I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing." Ex-eh-ba-che. "Man who talks loud... say nothing." Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything. But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world. — the poem: Fighting I Can Do I know these are normal things for me to be going through I know that I have been raped and beaten I know they've tried to kill me and lucky me, I survived I think I can survive everything they throw at me But as time wears on little pieces of this statue are chipped away everybody wants something, right? well, they've been taking from me and taking and taking and taking and my defenses are getting weaker and I don't know how much more fighting I can do — the poem: I Want you know what I want? i want a big house with filtered central air and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything in a row. and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn to keep the dandelions away and i want a plastic lobster bib over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne and i want a big fat car, and i want someone else to drive it and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl and i want a nanny to take care of them for me i want to be famous i want everyone to love me i want it i want it all — the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short - Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community. And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband. And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with. Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions. — the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen As a cop, I remember one lady, we found her in her bathtub, she cut her throat. That's odd, for women, normally they take pills, they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was doing, cutting her throat in a full bath. Less messy that way. Autopsy said she was full of barbiturates. She was a nurse, that explained how she knew how to do it, but then we found out that she was pregnant, too. And to top it off, her brother was a priest. — the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it) Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod. Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people. I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away. in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me, on the same street as me, but i still emailed her as much as i'd call her, even though i could just walk over to her house and have an actual conversation with her. And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them. I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe. — the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes i heard a story today about a little boy one of many who was enslaved by his country in child labor in this case he was working for a carpet factory he managed to escape he told his story to the world he was a hero at ten but the people from the factory held a grudge and today i heard that the little boy was shot and killed on the street he was twelve and then people complain to me when i buy shoes that are made in china now i have to think did somebody have to die for these will somebody have to die for these — the prose: Differences in China: children & trains Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog). But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el. — the poem: Private Lives 2005 sitting on the el train i saw a middle-eastern man sitting across from me holding a large Zip-Loc bag of some sort of food paste, i couldn't tell, it looked like some sort of curry-filled food paste and the man looked unhappy, and after a few minutes i saw him open up the Zip-Loc bag, throw up into it, then close the bag again so, he was carrying his vomit with him on the el at least he had a bag he could seal it up with — the prose: Passport To Outer Space And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China... I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done. Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences. — parts of the poem: In The Air Chicago looks grand from the sky with this huge expanse of lake next to it, like civilization crept up as far as it could but finally had to stop. The power of nature stopping the power of mankind... Daylight, and the snow on the ground in the winter time looks dirty, too many cars have splashed mud on it as they drove by. And in the winter the sky always matches the shade of grey of the snow: fitting for the city of the Blues. Maybe the snow is already that color, that perfect shade of grey, when it falls from the sky in this city. When I'm in the air, I like to look out the window. Clouds look like cotton balls when you're above them, and when you're landing cars look like little ants, on a mission, bringing food back to their hill. And the streets look like veins, capillaries in some massive, monstrous body. And the farmlands look like little squares of colors. I wonder why each plot of land is a different color, what's growing there that makes them different. Or maybe it's that some of them are turning shades of red and brown because they are dying. And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck sitting next to someone that is either too wide for their seat, or is a businessman with his newspaper stretched out and his lap top computer on his little fold out table. Once, when I was on a flight back from D. C., a flight attendant walked by, stack of magazines in her hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek, and I stopped her, asking what magazines she had. And she replied, "Oh, these magazines are for men." This is a true story. And I asked her again what she had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek. — the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer "I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms were always on demand on a flight this long. So I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle against a very healthy digestive system and left the "spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go down into the sewage tank where all the other waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean? Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this long line of people waiting to use this cramped little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all, 'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that plane, will think the exact same thing." — and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history. I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life. — For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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166, 02:41, 2007-07-25 12:33:34 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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37, 26:30, 2007-11-26 03:02:11 Description: It's the story of an obsession and a directorial debut: Actress Maria Schrader's Liebesleben.
Three heroic detectives finally make it to the big screen: The Three Investigators premier at (More) It's the story of an obsession and a directorial debut: Actress Maria Schrader's Liebesleben.
Three heroic detectives finally make it to the big screen: The Three Investigators premier at last!
«Love Life» -- A Story Of Obsession In Israel
What happens when a young, happily married woman falls madly in love with her husband's old school chum? «Love Life» is an adaptation of the best-selling novel from Israeli author Zeruya Shalev and the directorial debut of German actress Maria Schrader. She shot the film in Israel to show how the Mid East conflict inextricably affects the lives of people living there. KINO with a very unique film project.
Ordinary Life In Close Up -- - The 50th Leipzig Documentary Film Festival
For half a century, the Leipzig documentary film festival has been a forum for non fiction. In the old East Germany the festival, despite official censorship, was a «window to the world». German director Thomas Heise takes KINO on a trip back through time -- back to when the Berlin Wall still split Germany into East and West and Leipzig was a bastion of critically-acclaimed cinema. He also gives us a sneak peek at his latest film -- the story of a down-and-out family in present-day eastern Germany. KINO also spoke with a young Palestinian director whose politically-tinged documentary screened at Leipzig.SHORTCUTS
* Kazakhstan Cure -- «Ulzhan», the new film from German Volker Schlöndorff is the story of a man whose life is transformed by a chance encounter in the steppes of Kazakhstan. A comeback for Schlöndorff, who is inspired by the raw landscape to produce his best film in years.
* Short And Sharp -- KINO brings you the winners of this year's German Short Film Prize in Potsdam.
* Back To The Roots -- Rosa von Praunheim is German cinema's enfant terrible, a director who has made it his mission to break every taboo he could find. His new film shows a different side to his flamboyant public persona. It tells of his search for his birth mother in Lithuania.
«For The Unknown Dog» -- - The Reding Twins Return To The Screen
With «Oi! Warning» twin brothers Dominik and Benjamin Reding crashed the international film scene like two soccer rowdies at a cocktail party. A homosexual love story between a German skin head and a punk rocker, it won awards at festivals around the world. The Reding brothers' sophomore effort, «For The Unknown Dog» is another look at people outside the mainstream. It follows two young apprentices who follow the centuries-old German tradition of criss-crossing the country on foot, learning their craft on the way. They are joined by a day labourer with a dark secret.«The Three Investigators -- - The Secret Of Skeleton Island»
Justus, Peter and Bob are the heroes of generations of German kids. American journalist and author Robert Arthur began the adventures of the three detectives 43 years ago. Other writers took over after Arthur's death and there are currently some 134 «The Three Investigators» novels in print. They have sold more than 30 million copies worldwide, the majority in Germany. Director Florian Baxmeyer fulfilled a childhood dream by bringing the young detectives to the screen. The film is an adventure tale, a pre-teen mix of James Bond and Indiana Jones. KINO went to the German premiere. (Less)
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12, 26:30, 2008-04-22 09:04:35 Description: It's the story of an obsession and a directorial debut: Actress Maria Schrader's Liebesleben. Three heroic detectives finally make it to the big screen: The Three Investigators premier at (More) It's the story of an obsession and a directorial debut: Actress Maria Schrader's Liebesleben. Three heroic detectives finally make it to the big screen: The Three Investigators premier at last! «Love Life» -- A Story Of Obsession In Israel What happens when a young, happily married woman falls madly in love with her husband's old school chum? «Love Life» is an adaptation of the best-selling novel from Israeli author Zeruya Shalev and the directorial debut of German actress Maria Schrader. She shot the film in Israel to show how the Mid East conflict inextricably affects the lives of people living there. KINO with a very unique film project. Ordinary Life In Close Up -- - The 50th Leipzig Documentary Film Festival For half a century, the Leipzig documentary film festival has been a forum for non fiction. In the old East Germany the festival, despite official censorship, was a «window to the world». German director Thomas Heise takes KINO on a trip back through time -- back to when the Berlin Wall still split Germany into East and West and Leipzig was a bastion of critically-acclaimed cinema. He also gives us a sneak peek at his latest film -- the story of a down-and-out family in present-day eastern Germany. KINO also spoke with a young Palestinian director whose politically-tinged documentary screened at Leipzig.SHORTCUTS * Kazakhstan Cure -- «Ulzhan», the new film from German Volker Schlöndorff is the story of a man whose life is transformed by a chance encounter in the steppes of Kazakhstan. A comeback for Schlöndorff, who is inspired by the raw landscape to produce his best film in years. * Short And Sharp -- KINO brings you the winners of this year's German Short Film Prize in Potsdam. * Back To The Roots -- Rosa von Praunheim is German cinema's enfant terrible, a director who has made it his mission to break every taboo he could find. His new film shows a different side to his flamboyant public persona. It tells of his search for his birth mother in Lithuania. «For The Unknown Dog» -- - The Reding Twins Return To The Screen With «Oi! Warning» twin brothers Dominik and Benjamin Reding crashed the international film scene like two soccer rowdies at a cocktail party. A homosexual love story between a German skin head and a punk rocker, it won awards at festivals around the world. The Reding brothers' sophomore effort, «For The Unknown Dog» is another look at people outside the mainstream. It follows two young apprentices who follow the centuries-old German tradition of criss-crossing the country on foot, learning their craft on the way. They are joined by a day labourer with a dark secret.«The Three Investigators -- - The Secret Of Skeleton Island» Justus, Peter and Bob are the heroes of generations of German kids. American journalist and author Robert Arthur began the adventures of the three detectives 43 years ago. Other writers took over after Arthur's death and there are currently some 134 «The Three Investigators» novels in print. They have sold more than 30 million copies worldwide, the majority in Germany. Director Florian Baxmeyer fulfilled a childhood dream by bringing the young detectives to the screen. The film is an adventure tale, a pre-teen mix of James Bond and Indiana Jones. KINO went to the German premiere. (Less)
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260, 01:54, 2008-04-22 16:28:13 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV. Artwork included in the projected "television" display included: The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland. These are the writing included in the live show: the poem: Paranoia we sit here at dinner. I try to breathe. My hands rest on my thighs. I must watch to be sure, everything must be right: the silverware, small fork, large fork, plate, knife, large spoon, small spoon. Water glass. Wine glass. I know no one else sees them: the fish, the red fish, in the curtains along the wall. You have to watch them. My eyes always glance there. They are evil fish. They sit in the curtains, they wait, and then they come out. And the yogurt, the yogurt is the only thing that can save me from them. throw the yogurt, take a spoon, use your hands. Anything. And we sat there before dinner, and he ate his yogurt with his first spoon before I could stop him. How could you do this? How can you save yourself now? Will I have to save you again, do you even understand the danger — the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone. I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing." Ex-eh-ba-che. "Man who talks loud... say nothing." Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything. But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world. — the poem: Fighting I Can Do I know these are normal things for me to be going through I know that I have been raped and beaten I know they've tried to kill me and lucky me, I survived I think I can survive everything they throw at me But as time wears on little pieces of this statue are chipped away everybody wants something, right? well, they've been taking from me and taking and taking and taking and my defenses are getting weaker and I don't know how much more fighting I can do — the poem: I Want you know what I want? i want a big house with filtered central air and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything in a row. and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn to keep the dandelions away and i want a plastic lobster bib over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne and i want a big fat car, and i want someone else to drive it and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl and i want a nanny to take care of them for me i want to be famous i want everyone to love me i want it i want it all — the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short - Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community. And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband. And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with. Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions. — the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen As a cop, I remember one lady, we found her in her bathtub, she cut her throat. That's odd, for women, normally they take pills, they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was doing, cutting her throat in a full bath. Less messy that way. Autopsy said she was full of barbiturates. She was a nurse, that explained how she knew how to do it, but then we found out that she was pregnant, too. And to top it off, her brother was a priest. — the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it) Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod. Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people. I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away. in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me, on the same street as me, but i still emailed her as much as i'd call her, even though i could just walk over to her house and have an actual conversation with her. And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them. I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe. — the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes i heard a story today about a little boy one of many who was enslaved by his country in child labor in this case he was working for a carpet factory he managed to escape he told his story to the world he was a hero at ten but the people from the factory held a grudge and today i heard that the little boy was shot and killed on the street he was twelve and then people complain to me when i buy shoes that are made in china now i have to think did somebody have to die for these will somebody have to die for these — the prose: Differences in China: children & trains Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog). But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el. — the poem: Private Lives 2005 sitting on the el train i saw a middle-eastern man sitting across from me holding a large Zip-Loc bag of some sort of food paste, i couldn't tell, it looked like some sort of curry-filled food paste and the man looked unhappy, and after a few minutes i saw him open up the Zip-Loc bag, throw up into it, then close the bag again so, he was carrying his vomit with him on the el at least he had a bag he could seal it up with — the prose: Passport To Outer Space And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China... I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done. Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences. — parts of the poem: In The Air Chicago looks grand from the sky with this huge expanse of lake next to it, like civilization crept up as far as it could but finally had to stop. The power of nature stopping the power of mankind... Daylight, and the snow on the ground in the winter time looks dirty, too many cars have splashed mud on it as they drove by. And in the winter the sky always matches the shade of grey of the snow: fitting for the city of the Blues. Maybe the snow is already that color, that perfect shade of grey, when it falls from the sky in this city. When I'm in the air, I like to look out the window. Clouds look like cotton balls when you're above them, and when you're landing cars look like little ants, on a mission, bringing food back to their hill. And the streets look like veins, capillaries in some massive, monstrous body. And the farmlands look like little squares of colors. I wonder why each plot of land is a different color, what's growing there that makes them different. Or maybe it's that some of them are turning shades of red and brown because they are dying. And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck sitting next to someone that is either too wide for their seat, or is a businessman with his newspaper stretched out and his lap top computer on his little fold out table. Once, when I was on a flight back from D. C., a flight attendant walked by, stack of magazines in her hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek, and I stopped her, asking what magazines she had. And she replied, "Oh, these magazines are for men." This is a true story. And I asked her again what she had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek. — the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer "I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms were always on demand on a flight this long. So I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle against a very healthy digestive system and left the "spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go down into the sewage tank where all the other waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean? Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this long line of people waiting to use this cramped little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all, 'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that plane, will think the exact same thing." — and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history. I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life. — For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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149, 00:34, 2007-07-25 09:44:59 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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150, 01:58, 2007-07-25 10:06:29 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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137, 01:54, 2007-07-25 10:00:21 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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59, 03:19, 2009-09-06 00:56:45 Description: Small Faces was een Britse rockgroep uit de jaren 60 van de 20e eeuw. De leden waren Steve Marriott, Ronnie Lane, Kenny Jones en Jimmy Winston. Hun debuutsingle, "What'cha Gonna Do About (More) Small Faces was een Britse rockgroep uit de jaren 60 van de 20e eeuw. De leden waren Steve Marriott, Ronnie Lane, Kenny Jones en Jimmy Winston. Hun debuutsingle, "What'cha Gonna Do About It", geschreven door Ian Samwell, kwam uit in 1965, en was een kleine hit in hun eigen land. Hun volgende single, "I've Got Mine", haalde de hitparades niet, en Winston verliet de band. Ian McLagan nam zijn plaats in, en ze kregen een grote hit in Engeland met het nummer "Sha-La-La-La-Lee". Het hoogtepunt van hun populariteit was in augustus 1966 toen "All Or Nothing" de top van de UK-hitlijsten haalde, achteraf hun enige nummer 1-hit. Hun eerste album was "Small Faces", en bleek erg succesvol te zijn. Na verhuisd te zijn naar het Immediate Records label van Rolling Stones' producer Andrew 'Loog' Oldham werd het nummer uitgebracht waar ze nog steeds bekend om zijn: "Itchycoo Park". In 1968 kwam hun inmiddels vierde album uit, Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake, waarvan een kant was gebaseerd op een sprookje. Het album kreeg zeer goede kritieken en in Engeland behaalde het de eerste plaats. Op het album kwam ook de eerder al succesvolle hitsingle "Lazy Sunday" te staan. De zin "Lazy sunday afternoon... I've got no mind to worry, close my eyes and drift away...." geeft een beeld van de flower power-periode. De elpee was gestoken in een ronde hoes. Deze hoes kon worden opengeslagen en gaf dan de binnenkant van een tabaksdoos te zien, compleet met een pakje vloeitjes. Verder uitgevouwen werden vier zwart-wit foto's zichtbaar van de afzonderlijke groepsleden, die enigszins schuil gingen achter een gordijn van sigarettenrook. Hoes Toen Marriot plotseling de band verliet in 1969 en Humble Pie oprichtte, probeerden de rest van de leden Small Faces voort te zetten, en rekruteerden Rod Stewart en Ron Wood. Kort daarna veranderden ze hun naam naar The Faces. Voor meer informatie, zie dat lemma. In 1977 komen Small Faces voor korte tijd weer bij elkaar, zonder Ronnie Lane, maar met Rick Wills op bas. The Small Faces is ook de naam van een Britse film. De film heeft geen connecties met de band. Lane and Marriott met in 1965 while Marriott was working at the J60 Music Bar in Manor Park, London. Lane came in with his father Stan to buy a bass guitar, struck up a conversation with Marriott, bought the bass and went back to Marriott's house after work to listen to records. They recruited friends Kenney Jones and Jimmy Winston (born James Langwith, 20 April 1945, in Stratford, London), who switched from guitar to the organ. They rapidly progressed from rehearsals at The Ruskin Arms public house (which was owned by Winston's parents) in Manor Park, London, to ramshackle pub gigs, to semi-professional club dates. Marriott's unique and powerful voice attracted rising attention. Singer Elkie Brooks was struck by Marriott's vocal prowess and stage presence, and recommended them to a local club owner, Maurice King. Impressed, King began finding them work in London and beyond. The band's early song set included R&B/soul classics such as "Jump Back", James Brown's "Please Please Please", Smokey Robinson's "You've Really Got a Hold on Me" and Ben E. King's "Stand by Me". The band also performed two Marriott/Lane original compositions, a fast and loud "Come on Children" and the "speed enhanced" song "E too D", in which Marriott would display his considerable vocal abilities in the style of his heroes and role models, Otis Redding and Bobby Bland. "E too D", which appears on their first album, Small Faces, is named after the guitar chord structure. On US compilation albums the track is titled "Running Wild".[7] They were kicked out of their first out-of-town gig, a tough working men's club in Sheffield, after only three songs. The crowd at that concert was mainly made up of Teddy boys and hard-drinking workers. Despondent, they literally walked into the mod-oriented King Mojo Club nearby (then owned by a young Peter Stringfellow) and offered to perform for free. They played a set that left the local mods wanting more and started a strong buzz. During a crucial residency at Leicester Square's Cavern Club, they were strongly supported by Sonny & Cher, who were living in London at the time and had first seen them perform in Sheffield. [edit] The Decca years They signed a management contract with management impresario Don Arden, and they were in turn signed to Decca Records for recording. They released a string of high-energy mod/soul singles on the label. Their debut single was in 1965 with "Whatcha Gonna Do About It", a Top 15 UK singles chart hit. Marriott and Lane are credited with creating the instrumental to the song, "borrowing" the guitar riff from the Solomon Burke record "Everybody Needs Somebody To Love". The lyrics were written by The Shadows band member Ian Samwell (who arguably wrote the first British rock 'n' roll record, "Move It").[8] The group failed to capitalize on the success of their first single with the follow-up which was written by Marriott/Lane, the hard-edged mod number "I've Got Mine". The band appeared as themselves in a 1965 crime film titled Dateline Diamonds starring Kenneth Cope as the band's manager. It featured them playing their second single release, "I've Got Mine". Arden thought the band's song would receive publicity by the film; however, the film's UK release was delayed, and "I've Got Mine" subsequently failed to chart.[9] Shortly thereafter, Jimmy Winston was released from the band. The most common explanations for his dismissal are a clash of personalities with Marriott or a lack of musical talent, though rumours persist he was released at least in part because he compromised the band's integrity of image by being too tall, since the others all stood around 5' 4". (Indeed, the group took their name from a remark by a female friend of Marriott's, who noted that the band members all had "small faces". The name stuck in part because of the mod slang usage of the word "face" to mean a popular, trendsetting individual.) In a 2000 interview, Kenney Jones stated the reason Winston was fired from the band was because "He (Winston) got above his station and tried to compete with Steve Marriott."[10] Winston was replaced by Ian McLagan, whose keyboard talents and diminutive stature fit with the groove of the band perfectly. The new Small Faces line-up hit the charts with their third single, "Sha-La-La-La-Lee", released on 28 January 1966. It was written for the group by Mort Shuman (who wrote many of Elvis Presley's biggest singles, including "Viva Las Vegas") and popular English entertainer and singer Kenny Lynch. The song was a big hit in Britain, peaking at number three in the UK singles chart. Their first album, Small Faces, released on 11 May 1966, was also a considerable success. They rapidly rose in popularity with each chart success, becoming regulars on British pop TV shows such as Ready Steady Go! and Top of The Pops, and toured incessantly in the UK and Europe. Their popularity peaked in August 1966, when "All Or Nothing", their fifth single, hit the top of the UK charts. According to Marriott's mother Kay, he is said to have written the song about his breakup with his ex-fiancee Susan Oliver. On the success of "All or Nothing" they were set to tour America with The Lovin' Spoonful and The Mamas and the Papas; however, these plans had to be shelved by Don Arden after details of Ian McLagan's recent drug conviction were leaked.[11] By 1966, despite being one of the highest-grossing live acts in the country and scoring many successful singles, including four UK Top 10 chart hits, financially the band had nothing to show for their efforts. After a messy confrontation with the notorious Arden (who tried to face down the boys' parents by claiming that the whole band were addicted to heroin), they broke with both Arden and Decca. [edit] The Immediate years They were almost straight away offered a deal with the newly established Immediate label, formed by ex-Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham. Given a virtual open account at Olympic Studios in Barnes, London, the band progressed rapidly, working closely with engineer Glyn Johns. Their first Immediate single was the daring "Here Come the Nice", which was clearly influenced by their drug use, and managed to escape censorship despite the fact that it openly referred to speed (amphetamines). A second self-titled Immediate album, Small Faces, followed, which, if not a major seller, was very highly regarded by other musicians and would exert a strong influence on a number of bands both at home and abroad. At the same time, their old label Decca released a spoiler album called From The Beginning, combining old hits with a number of previously unreleased recordings. It included earlier versions of songs they re-recorded for Immediate, including "My Way Of Giving", which they had demoed for Chris Farlowe, and "(Tell Me) Have You Ever Seen Me", which they had given to Apostolic Intervention. The album also featured their stage favourite "Baby, Don't You Do It", featuring Jimmy Winston on lead vocals and guitar. Their mid-1967 single "Itchycoo Park" is one of Small Faces' best-remembered songs and was also the first of the band's only two charting singles in the United States, reaching No. 16. "Itchycoo Park" was the first British record to use flanging, the technique of playing two identical master tapes simultaneously but altering the speed of one of them very slightly by touching the "flange" of one tape reel, which yielded a distinctive comb-filtering effect; it was an effect developed by Olympic Studios engineer George Chkiantz in 1966. "Itchycoo Park" was followed by "Tin Soldier" (originally written by Marriott for American singer P.P. Arnold, who can be heard clearly on backing vocals); it remains one of their best-known singles. However, when the song only reached No. 73 on the US Hot 100 chart, Immediate Records was said to have abandoned its short-lived effort to establish the act in America. "Lazy Sunday", released in 1968, was a Cockney music-hall style song released by Immediate against the band's wishes. It was written by Steve Marriott as a joke because he was always getting thrown out of his rented accommodation by neighbours complaining about the noise he made. The single reached number 2 in the British charts, but the band continued to resent the fact that their sound was being represented by what they saw as a novelty single. Many years later, "Lazy Sunday" was to inspire Blur's hit song "Parklife" in 1994. The final official song release during the band's career was folksy sounding " The Universal" in the summer of 1968. The song was recorded by adding studio over-dubs to a basic track that Marriott cut live in his back garden in Essex with an acoustic guitar, taped on a home cassette recorder, complete with his dogs heard barking in the background.[12] The single's subsequent lack of success in the charts (it reached number 16 in the UK Top 40 singles chart), and critical panning in the UK music press, devastated Marriott, who then refused to write music for the next few months. [edit] Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake At home in England, their career reached an all-time high with the release of their classic psychedelic influenced album Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake on 24 May 1968. It is widely regarded today as a classic album, and featured an innovative round cover, the first of its kind, designed to resemble an antique tobacco tin. It stayed at number one in the UK Albums Chart for six weeks (it reached #159 in the US). The two-act concept album consisted of five original songs on side one and a whimsical psychedelic fairy tale on side two relating the adventures of "Happiness Stan" and his need to find out where the moon went when it waned. It was narrated by Stanley Unwin, though original plans to have Spike Milligan narrating the album were dashed when he turned them down. Critics raved, and the album sold well, but the band were confronted by the practical problem that they had created a studio masterpiece which was virtually impossible to recreate on the road. Ogdens' was performed as a whole just once, and memorably, live in the studio on the BBC's television programme, Colour Me Pop. [edit] Breakup After several months of breakup rumours in the British press, Marriott officially quit the band at the beginning of 1969, walking off stage during a live New Year's Eve gig. Citing frustration at their failure to break out of their pop image and their inability to reproduce the more sophisticated material properly on stage, Steve was already looking ahead to a new band, Humble Pie, with Peter Frampton. On the subject of the group's breakup, Kenney Jones, in an interview with John Hellier (2001), said: I wish we had been a little bit more grown up at the time, if we had played Ogdens live it would have boosted our confidence so much, we were labelled as a pop band, which definitely got up Steves nose more than we realised. I wish we had been more like The Who in the fact that when they have problems they stick together until theyve overcome them, Steve just thought well how do we top Ogdens and he was off. Ogdens was a masterpiece if we had played it live we would have gone on to even greater things, I reckon we were on the verge of crossing the great divide and becoming a heavier band. [13] A posthumous album, The Autumn Stone, was released later in the year, and included the major Immediate recordings, a rare live concert performance, and a number of previously unreleased tracks, including the classic Swinging Sixties instrumental "Wide Eyed Girl on the Wall" and "Donkey Rides, A Penny, A Glass", co-written by Ian McLagan. The final single, "Afterglow (Of Your Love)", was released in 1969 after the band had ceased to exist. Since there was no one to promote it, it only reached the UK Singles Chart Top 40. [edit] Post-breakup projects, reunion and legacy Marriott's next venture was with the rock group Humble Pie, formed with ex-Herd member Peter Frampton. The group was a huge hit in the U.S., though not in the UK. Humble Pie split in 1975 due to financial problems and 'musical differences', and Marriott later formed Packet of Three. After Small Faces split, Lane, Jones and McLagan floundered briefly before joining forces with former members of the Jeff Beck Group, singer Rod Stewart and guitarist Ronnie Wood. They released one album as Small Faces before becoming simply Faces and later Rod Stewart and The Faces. Following the breakup of Faces in 1975, the original Small Faces line-up reformed briefly to film videos miming to the reissued "Itchycoo Park" (a Top 10 hit for the second time) and "Lazy Sunday" (which went Top 40). The group tried recording together again but Lane left after an argument. Unknown to the others, he was just beginning to show the symptoms of multiple sclerosis, and his behaviour was misinterpreted by Marriott and the others as a drunken tantrum. Nevertheless, McLagan, Jones and Marriott stayed together long enough, with ex-Humble Pie bassist Rick Wills taking Lane's place, to create two albums: Playmates in 1977 and 78 in the shade in 1978, released on Atlantic Records. Guitarist Jimmy McCulloch also briefly joined the line-up after leaving Wings. Paul McCartney, who had found McCulloch increasingly difficult to work with, allegedly phoned Marriott and said, "You can have him." The absence of Lane's bass playing and songwriting, however, was all too noticeable, and mainstream music in Britain was rapidly changing direction, punk rock having been established around this time. The reunion albums, as a result, were both critical and commercial failures. Kenney Jones became the drummer in The Who after Keith Moon's death in 1978.[14] Ian McLagan went on to perform with artists such as Bonnie Raitt, the Rolling Stones, David Lindley and El Rayo-X, and most recently Billy Bragg. In 1998 he published his autobiography, All the Rage. He now lives in the small town of Manor (pronounced 'Maynor') just outside Austin, Texas. On Saturday, 20 April 1991, Steve Marriott died in his sleep when a fire, caused by a cigarette, swept through his home in Essex, England.[15] His death came just a few days after he had begun work on a new album in America with his former Humble Pie bandmate, Peter Frampton. Ronnie Lane died at his home in Trinidad, Colorado, on 4 June 1997, after battling multiple sclerosis for nearly 20 years. [edit] Commemorative plaque On 4 September 2007, a Small Faces and Don Arden commemorative plaque, issued by the London Borough of Westminster,[16] was unveiled in their memory in Carnaby Street. An emotional Kenney Jones attended the ceremony and said in a BBC television interview, "To honour the Small Faces after all these years is a terrific achievement. I only wish that Steve Marriott, Ronnie Lane and the late Don Arden were here to enjoy this moment with me". (Less)
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10, 02:23, 2009-10-11 17:27:27 Description: Clip in honor of this "memorable quote" in the films of Joel and Ethan Coen. Joel Coen: imdb.com/name/nm0001054/ Ethan Coen: imdb.com/name/nm0001053/ Wikipedia: (More) Clip in honor of this "memorable quote" in the films of Joel and Ethan Coen. Joel Coen: imdb.com/name/nm0001054/ Ethan Coen: imdb.com/name/nm0001053/ Wikipedia: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coen_brothers Filmography: Blood Simple, Raising Arizona, Miller's Crossing, Barton Fink, The Hudsucker Proxy, Fargo, The Big Lebowski, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, The Man Who Wasn't There, Intolerable Cruelty, The Ladykillers, No Country for Old Men, Burn After Reading, A Serious Man, Hail Caesar. Actors: Frances McDormand, John Turturro, Steve Buscemi, Javier Bardem, Nicolas Cage, Jon Polito, John Goodman, George Clooney, Billy Bob Thornton, John Mahoney, Peter Stormare, Brad Pitt, J.K. Simmons, John Malkovich, Holly Hunter, Josh Brolin, Tommy Lee Jones, Michael Stuhlbarg. (Less)
Channel: vimeoTags: what the fuck coen brothers joel coen ethan coen the big lebowski fargo no country for old men burn after reading wtf memorable quotes coen brothers tarantino a serious man movie film cinema
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7, 08:25, 2008-04-03 13:05:46 Description: Porrohman by Big Country from The Crossing. A fan made video of one of Big Country's lesser known but still cool songs. A tribute to the late Stuart Adamson. (More) Porrohman by Big Country from The Crossing. A fan made video of one of Big Country's lesser known but still cool songs. A tribute to the late Stuart Adamson. (Less)
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0, 01:13, 2009-05-28 07:42:41 Description: Brownsburg apartments - Brownsburg Crossing apartments for rent in Brownsburg, IN. Get into the swing of things! Call 866.647.6525 or Visit www.apartments.com for apartment prices, pictures, videos, (More) Brownsburg apartments - Brownsburg Crossing apartments for rent in Brownsburg, IN. Get into the swing of things! Call 866.647.6525 or Visit www.apartments.com for apartment prices, pictures, videos, floorplans, availability. Brownsburg Crossing offers a unique opportunity to enhance your lifestyle. Escape into a friendly neighborhood where you'll find it easy to reduce the stress and worries of life in the big city. Brownsburg Crossing is a wonderful blend of country simplicity and luxurious ... (Less)
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0, 01:20, 2009-02-15 01:39:36 Description: A starter in the mountains, set to Big Country's "The Crossing".
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0, 03:21, 2009-08-26 08:10:20 Description: A music video production by Guy Barwood (Glass Eye View) of The Fry Brothers song 'You Never Know'. This video won the Award for Best Music Video at the 2008 Australian Video Producers (More) A music video production by Guy Barwood (Glass Eye View) of The Fry Brothers song 'You Never Know'. This video won the Award for Best Music Video at the 2008 Australian Video Producers Association Awards held in Toorak on Tuesday 2 September 2008. This Award was sponsored by leading audio and effects lighting supplier "Factory Sound". A big thanks go to them for their sponsorship of the award. This video was shot over the course of two days in mid 2008 in the outer Western suburbs of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia (Hoppers Crossing & Werribee). Total budget was very limited. All appearances are by volunteers. It was shot on a Sony PMW-EX1 in 1080 25p and edited using Liquid. You Never Know is a song focused on the world wide issue of depression. A message of never give up is told because you just never know what might happen in the future. The origonal concept had two underlying stories however after the first cut a decision was made to focus on only one character. The two stories confused and complicated the clip too much. A future edit may be produced with only the second character featured. (Less)
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98, 00:33, 2007-07-25 09:47:39 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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