Tonight I went to a storytelling festival. two enthusiastic thumbs up! i mean, wow. t'was amazing. i felt like i was in kindergarten again! they featured several different types of story-tellers, old and young people ranging from loud to quiet voices telling from fantasy to historical stories. There was this older lady, kind of a stick, who spoke pretty quietly and intently; a black lady who got her groove on in the middle of her story, and a younger student from Hungary with the coolest accent!
At first, i wasn't sure how it was going to be, because we were just watching a person talk like we were in class. But, these stories each had a purpose and more importantly a really cool moral. There was one lady who told an old soufi tale called "the lion makers."
It starts with 4 men walking through a forest, 3 scientists and farmer, who came upon a pile of bones. The first scientist says, "my studies taught me how to put these bones together - it's a lion." And soon enough there was the skeleton. The second scientist said, "yes, and my studies taught me how to create muscles and tissues." And soon enough, the lion was complete, from mane to tail. The third scientist said, "yes, but my studies taught me how to bring things to life." Before he could do anything, the farmer chimed in and said, "nooo i don't think that's a good idea." the third scientist said, "what, are you jealous?" the farmer tried to explain, but the scientists mocked him for not being educated. while the farmer climbed a tree, the third scientist got to work, and soon enough, the lion's eyes opened, he lifted his head, and looked at the 3 scientists. As you can imagine, he devoured the 3 scientists, and after he left, the farmer got down and walked home."After this, she told of the story of a farmer from Maine who created the machine gun as we knew it during WWI. Her last sentence was this question, "how many lions are we creating? and where are the trees we are climbing?"
Another lady told started a love story between a Jewish man and Catholic woman. Turns out the man is Irving Berlin, the famous song writer of the 1920's who married a young girl against her father's wishes. To please her unbudging father, she complied with his request to see europe and not speak to Irving while she was gone for six months! She said she wouldn't, but wrote him every day (smart girl!). While she was away, he wrote her the song, "Always," and later gave her the rights to that song, which was good because it was worth thousands and thousands of dollars. One day, he called her up and said, "i can't live like this any longer. i have our wedding license, let's go down to the city hall right now and get married." she picked up her pocket book and went straight to meet him. Later, her father wrote her out of his will for marrying Irving. He went on to write other famous songs such as "God Bless America," "Anything You Can Do" and "White Christmas." He had quite the life-story and i highly suggest checking it out by clicking on his name above. After she died at 81, 6 months later he died at age 101. Remarkable! I will get this link up and running tomorrow so you can actually hear the song. Irving Berlin - "Always."
The last storyteller was a gentlemen who rhymed the story of cinderella like i've never heard it before, and he also told the story of the young salt shaker who fell for the sugar bowl, who in the end, learned from his mistake of falling hard too fast. again, it was exactly in rhyme, but very eloquent language. there was a mouse in the story who would quote very beautiful passages of literature from different authors, one of which i remember was shelley. the storyteller's memory...wow. to recite all that he did in such a manner that evoked such emotion! i loved it. absolutely.
Basically I just think that storytelling is a lost art. And i really wish i had better oratory skills. My mom is a teacher, and by nature she has those skills. If only she had passed on those genes to me! I get so tongue-tied and twisted. It just reminds me of that scripture in Ether 12:
27 "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."
Well it was a lovely few hours after a week of sickness. i'm getting over the flu (yucky!) and as such, i've done a lot of music blogging! which is short for finding new music through wonderful blogs online. For some reason, i have been way into the hiphop lately!
My song for today is by Lupe Fiasco - Superstar (pictured). I have been singing this song for 2 days! I hope you like it as much as i do. I look forward to listening to other hits from him! It's kind of a shame his name is Lupe though - it just reminds me of that disease Lupas, which even though i don't know exactly what it is, it just sounds gross and undesirable. Anyone disagree with me?
Right now, it's early in the morning and thus I find myself blogging. It brings me back to a time a little over a year and half ago, when i was studying literature. I loved my teacher, for he had a way to make poetry come to life for me like nobody else did for me. We went over lots of poetry in class, and I remember being so touched by these poems that i saved most of them in a word document on my computer. I will share one with you now, titled "Insomnia."
Insomnia
Stephen Dunn
What should be counted was counted
up to a hundred and back.
And sleep came by, I think,
sensed too much movement and left.
Now there’s desire meeting absence,
the multiplication of zero,
the mind, as always, holding out
for a perfect convergence
like a diver entering water
without a splash. There’s a part
of me terribly stilled and alert,
a silence that won’t shut off.
And there’s this need to put on the light,
to not sleep on sleep’s terms, sleep
which is after all like you, love,
elsewhere and difficult.
Not to say that I'm still awake from love's mysteries, but all the same, i might as well be. I feel like my mind is going 100 mph! It's a lovely poem. i wish i had that talent as well, to string words that evoke imagery not well known to the commoner. Oh well, one day perhaps. One day i will share with you my absolute favorite poem, but not for now, as i think it might be premature.
g'nite*~