Recently, I had the opportunity to go to the first open mic of Taller Libertá after the two year hiatus caused by the pandemic. The place was full of poetry, music and art lovers, all of whom were anxious for a taste of the art we had all been missing. I had originally gone to support my brother who was going to be performing his music for the first time (earnestly on all music platforms btw!), but I also wanted to leave the door open, so I could perform some of my stuff as well.
It was during the pandemic that I began to write poetry. It helped me heal during the hard times I was facing and it will continue to be an insanely important part of me and my artistry. However, I had never read my poetry in front of an audience. I had sent and read it to my friends, but a crowd full of strangers? Never. Although I had been able to picture it and dream of that moment, the pandemic made the possibility not seem real. In spite of this, here I was two whole years and a lot of notebooks later, ready to finally show the world the pages.
As soon as I got there, I felt the urge to put my name on the sign up sheet, but I remained hesitant. After some time waiting for the activity to start, I was chatting with my best friend and I just said “screw it!” and wrote my name down.
Now came the hard part: what was I gonna read!?
I had a ton of poems in my archive, but most of them felt very distant from me, considering they were from when I had first started writing or when I felt strongly about certain things that had now changed. I was feeling very torn because of this. I wanted the first time I ever read something I wrote, the first time people would hear who I am and what I care about, to be something that was real to me at that moment. After scavenging and trying not to overthink it too much, I finally settled on three that I really liked.
The show started and a lot of different artists went up, and they were all so extremely talented. It quickly became a very warm, intimate and inviting environment. We all felt so safe and supported to share our pieces and artwork.
Then, I heard my name being called. At first, I was very confused because I had signed up to go after my brother and he had not gone yet, but I quickly stood up when they called me a second time. I liked that this happened though because it did not give me a chance to become overly anxious.
It all happened so quickly, but I remember feeling so safe up on that stage. As I read all three pieces, I couldn’t believe other people were hearing my words. From moments that were so pure and real to me, it was such a surreal experience. I got lost in every single word remembering the feelings I had when I wrote them and rewrote them and how they helped me feel less alone. As soon as it was over, there was a huge cheer, I got down the stage, to my seat and it was done, the next performer came on.
I couldn’t forget that magic though. My poetry, that to me had always been just words on a page, they were now something more. They came into a new kind of life. They were now a thought in people’s heads, a feeling they now carry, a sensation, a memory. It would never again be something that was fully mineーit was ours.