I was at Cafe Mundi, meeting a friend for poetry (as opposed to coffee - who says you can't live off poems?) and I went up to Doug and asked him for a word.

"Just a minute, I'm thinking." he insisted as he turned and ordered his beer.

When he was ready, he wrote "inquisitive" on my arm. He said it was the first word that came to mind.


Doug July 31, 2007

Amanda Johnston July 30, 2007

"Namaste" she said, "So you can walk with an open hand and an open heart."

See - Amanda Johnston's always keeping it real and walking with love. This is an incredible, powerful woman. And she's reminding me to walk with an open hand. Thank you Manda!

Amanda said, "Now, no one else has written that word, right? You aren't going to come to me tomorrow and be like - oh so and so also wrote namaste, right?"

Naw - this is a first. But I might have to do it again sometime. "Namaste."

C. and Scott July 29, 2007

We were all there for one thing: Pizza. East Side Pies rests on a shabby corner in East Austin, a screen door the only thing between it and the world. They arrived at the same time that we did. And so I took out my pen while W. went inside to pick up our order (curry base pizza with potatoes, broccoli and sausage....it was OFF THE CHAIN); she waited on the porch while her friend/partner went inside.

"Hi. I'm doing this word project...yadda yadda."

"Sure." and "I feel like if I'm going to write one word, it has to be..."

She sat with pen in hand. I was standing. It was almost a little awkward. I felt like I was staring intently, so I looked away. Back at the car, up at the ceiling. I didn't want to put her on the spot like that. I just wanted to get a word. But alas, the full weight of my request was weighing on me. Her friend/partner walked out.

"Can you give me a word?" she asked him.

"One word."

"Yeah."

"Uh - I don't know. Go!"

At which point she smiled.

"I thought of one."

So, she wrote "ideal" on my arm. And then offered her friend/partner the pen.

"You wanna write go on her arm?"

At which point, I could have taken authority and said "Nope, sorry - just one of you." but I was curious about the sense of licence and participation. And that she had invited him in to participate as a natural flow to the interaction. Now that's kinda cool.

"Sure."

And he wrote, too.

I introduced myself at the end. And what happened? I forgot her name - it's something great like Claudette or Celeste. Her friend/partner's name is Scott.

So, C and Scott thank you for my words!

This morning I stumbled out of bed, late to meet my friend for breakfast. I don't know what I was thinking, partying until 4am and then thinking I'd be up at 8.30AM for breakfast. I didn't make it on time. I woke up at 9.15am and called my friend, begging her to wait for me. Which she did. And we had a delicious breakfast (if you're wondering I had the Plato Centroamericano which comes with eggs, black beans, sweet plantain and crema) at Las Manitas. And then we walked outside. I made it all the way to the car before realizing that I wanted to get my word right then and there. So as my friend wandered around the corner and I realized I wasn't going to chase her down, I meandered back to the restaurant in the hopes of finding someone to give me a word. And there they were.

There were three women furiously sifting through materials spread out on the bench in front of Las Manitas. More precisely, two women furiously sifting and another woman was watching, lending moral support as she stood with her parasol to the side of the commotion. Naturally, I was going to approach her.

Turns out Anonymous word writer is Japanese, and I believe is only visiting Austin. I explained what I was doing and she looked around, scared and nervous for a second (who is this person? why is she asking me to write on her?), so she called to the woman she was with, and Ring Leader turned around and demanded to know what I was doing (kindly, of course). So, I explained to her and she said, "Cool." and took the cap off the marker. Then she turned to Anonymous and said, "But you can write in another language. You should do it." So, Anonymous very quickly scrawled a word on my arm. And then the frenetic panic kicked in. Ring Leader explained, "We're on a scavenger hunt." "Yes," said Anonymous, "I thought you were also on the scavenger hunt."

No. Just getting a word. Just being little old me getting a word. I introduced myself to Anonymous and she nodded and said, "Yes." and I figured that was all that was going to happen today. I was going to get the word "cat" in Japanese, and frenetic nods. No names, no "maybe I'll see you around town."

I don't even know what they were looking for. But I found a cat, people. It's on my arm. In Japanese lettering.

I think next time I'll aim to leave my house for brunch.

Anonymous July 28, 2007

Laura Rios July 27, 2007

Tonight I got the word "Mexica" from b-girl Laura Rios. She tagged it onto my neck and it's beautiful. We were at a party, so the resulting photograph is blurry and hard to see (especially after a very delicious strawberry daiquiri), but you can still see traces of the word. The photo actually looks like an image from 110 millimeter film - does anyone remember using 110 cameras? They would take really grainy photographs. And remember when they used to develop film with round edges? If you've never used a 110 speed camera, you'd best watch out. It's so retro it came and left before we realized it was ever here!

But, back to the word. Laura has these amazing tattoos on her shoulders of the Mayan Moon Goddess(es), and she was telling me about her recent life-changing trip to Mexico. So, with pride, she wrote "Mexica". I feel proud just wearing it.

Today, I used my third lifeline. I forgot to get a word. It's not that I didn't have opportunity. I went to an art talk at the Jones Center. I went to a party at a friend's house. Forgot to get a word. And it's not like I didn't think about it. I actually did. I thought about the fact that I have less than 30 days left. And I looked at my calendar where I marked the last day of the project. But I forgot. Somewhere between images from the Hirschorn and viewing Elizabeth Axtman's video "American Classics", I forgot. Oops. Somehow, though, I don't feel bad about it. I think omphaloskepsis kept me going for a couple of days. Let's see what the word is tomorrow.

Graber July 25, 2007

Omphaloskepsis - it's Graber's favorite word. Of course, I had to try and figure out what it meant. So, I thought about the "skepsis" and guessed "a skeptical man"? No. Not at all. That is not even close. Though, you could make a case for it, I suppose.

It means the contemplation of one's navel as a form of meditation. Or navel gazing, but in a mystical sort of way.

It's a cool word - and it's on my arm. So, I'm off to skep my omphalo peeps.

Oompaloompa Oompaloompa Oompaloompa...

Jose Lara July 24, 2007


Only 30 days left! Today is Day 70 of the Written Word. I can't believe it. Well...30 days is still 30 days.

Today's word is "family". Jose told me that family is the most important thing to him. Absolutely the most important. He had just also told me how his 11 year old niece is coming to live with him. He took out his red marker and wrote the word, which to me was absolutely perfect - what with all the connotations of family/blood, etc. And the synchronicity is pretty fantastic since I spent the past weekend creating family with RedBone folks. And not to mention that Jose and I share the same last name. Family.

I like how the green tones of the photo offset the red. I'm still not such a great photographer, but I'm definitely having fun.

Did somebody say BBQ - yes. Well, we went to Ruby's BBQ for lunch so that folks leaving Texas today could say that they had BBQ while visiting. And Sherri Ross, word alchemist extraordinaire, was sitting across from me.

Now, this is the thing. Sherri's life work is about how we use language to shape our realities. In fact, she's coming out with a book soon all about this. About how we use language, and words, and how we can tap into their complete divine meanings. So, OF COURSE, I'm going to ask her for a word. And she wrote, on my right arm, "Divine". She told me that sometimes she writes the word "love" over her heart when she needs a little in her own life.

Sherri Ross July 23, 2007

It gets better. Ernest, who was sitting to Sherri's left, says, "I want a word!" and so Sherri agreed. After a moment of contemplation, she leaned over and wrote "evolution" on Ernest's arm. He asked her for the meaning, and the word alchemist replied, "Because a lot of times we speak of revolution, but revolution is all about going in circles. Evolution is always about moving forward." Go on, then.

Sherri Ross on Ernest Hardy July 23, 2007

And THEN Wura, sitting to my right, got really excited and wanted a word, too. Sherri became quiet, and hmmmed. "I don't know why, but this is the word that's coming to me for you." Sherri gave Wura the option of chosing where she wanted the word and so Wura chose her hand ("oh, but it will wash off!" she said and then shrugged and put out her hand).

So, today is the first day in this project where the word formed a circle: divine evolution tenderness.

Sherri Ross on Wura Ogunji July 23, 2007

"First," Jafari said, "in Yoruba "oremi" means friend. In Cuba, in the Lucumi tradition, it refers to women who don't engage sexually with men. And in the streets, during festivals, you see the oremi selling their food, slapping their hands to chase people away or bring them closer - like the sign language for "tortillera". And then in the past couple of years a group of women in Cuba has formed a group called Oremi."

Thank you Dr. Allen.




Jafari Allen July 22, 2007

Reggie Harris July 21, 2007

We were outside where I had fired up the grill. A circle of us stood around absorbing the heat from the fire. I asked Reggie to write a word on me. He got down on his knee and wrote "joy" on my foot. What better place to look to be reminded but the foot that steps forward first?

We were getting ready to head into town and do a reading when I asked Samiya if she would write a word on me.

Now, I have to note that since beginning this project I have had the privilege of being at two retreats with other writers. So it is in this context that I have gleaned words to grace my body. Samiya wrote "transmogrify" - which means, simply stated, to change in appearance or form. Which is a beautiful play on the change visualized on my body by the mere presence of words. Which I then had to illustrate in the act of taking the photograph.

Very cool.

Tonight we were sitting around after our journey to the lake. We have been gathered for the RedBone Press retreat. Ernest was sitting to my right and so I asked him if he'd write a word on me. He agreed and wrote "peace" on my neck. Samiya Bashir agreed to take a photo of me and so I wandered over to the corner and as she took my photo, realized I was staring directly into the ancestor's face. The image is from a series of German ethnographic prints from the 19th century. I, of course, forgot to write down where the prints are from and which print this is, since after the photo I was so taken aback that this man's face and mine were at eye level.

I am fascinated by the words on my neck. Does the neck, like in Yoruba mythology, seat the soul?

Jason July 18, 2007

I finally got a word from one of my neighbors! Amazing. He and another man walked out of their apartment just as I was in the parking lot. I went up to them and the other man immediately pointed up the stairs and before I had a word out said, "Ask her upstairs."

But Jason was really into it. He was like "Yeah - I'll do it! This is a heck of a project." And he wrote `look'. Before sidling off behind the other man.

So the picture's a little blurry, but Mike (aka MR.) wrote "me" on my fourth finger. He wanted to write it in ball point pen first, but then I pointed out it wouldn't be visible. So he wrote it in permanenet marker. He said, "Because you should always take care of yourself first."

And no, it's not a Queen Latifah reference. Though it could be if I wanted it to be, really.

Monday. I think Mondays are my low point with this project. Thank goodness there are people like Ivan to make things right. I went to HEB to get a movie at the $1 rental thing they have there. Ivan was leaning back on the toy machine (you know the ones with the CLAW that never works). I asked him if he was in line and when he said no, I responded, "Well actually..." yadda yadda..

Ivan asked me what other words people had written on me. I recalled the ones that were first on my mind.

"Possibility. Hi. Luv. Love." W. piped in with "Divine."

"Yes, divine was from yesterday!"

He said, "Well, I had thought of a word earlier. I'll do it." and he leaned over and wrote "abalone on my right arm. Abalone. Amazing.

And then, when I told him about this website he told me he would definitely follow this up. That's awesome. Thanks Ivan. Thanks for making Monday marvelous.

Okay - I could have sworn I posted this, but I came to my blog and it wasn't here. Twilight zone...or maybe it's the word "divine" that Senalka wrote on me. Or maybe I was just really tired on Sunday and just thought I posted it. Anyway, though this is dated for July 15th, I'm actually posting it on July 17th. Thus the ramble.

Senalka wrote "divine" on my neck. How beautiful is that?

It's amazing how my neck has been the repository for so many divine words:

prayer, gratitude, graceful wind, homeland, cancer, divine

I'm liking this. I'm really liking this.

So this morning, pre-caffeine, post-spilling tea all over myself (as I got out of the car, which was parked on an angle, I placed my open mug of tea on the roof of the car where it promptly slipped off, onto me and then under the truck right behind me), I trudged to the post office. Tea on my white pants and everything. There are only two post offices in Austin that are open on Saturday and I had to mail off a grant, so I was going to do it despite being a walking disaster.

After taping my grant envelope shut - mind you, the address was INSIDE the envelope, thereby requiring that I untape it to retrieve the address - I went to my place in line. Standing behind me was a young woman to whom I turned and promptly asked if she'd like to write on me.

"Sure!"

Her enthusiasm made me enthusiastic, too. I suddenly felt myself waking up.

"A word, huh? Any word? Hmm. Let me think about this."

"Sure."

"Do people usually think awhile before writing a word?"

"Not always. It can really be anything. Anything at all."

"Okay." Her gaze took in the post office in an attempt to receive inspiration. She decided, "I'll write something nice." and wrote "unity" on my left arm.

We continued to wait in line, made small talk. And when all was over, we introduced ourselves twice to each other and waved goodbye about five times. It was great.

I then went outside, W. took my photo. Do not be confused by the word on my t-shirt "Mariposa" which means butterfly in Spanish. Today's word is really on my arm. Frankly, I think I look like one of those models from the Modell's catalogues. And no, that's not a pained expression on my face, it's a decaffeinated smile.

Ronny July 13, 2007

Today was a hot day in Austin. Apparently as hot as 100 degrees...I couldn't tell you if it was in the shade, cause I was under a hot metal roof all day.

I got the word "alligator" from Ronny. He was passing through and asked me what was on my neck (the word from last night). So I told him about the project and he wrote for me. He told me alligator is his favorite word.

At first I didn't know what she'd written. And then she said, "Can I tell you?" We were at a local Mexican restaurant. There was West African music blasting overhead and so we were shouting at each other. I said, "Okay."

"Cancer. I wrote cancer."

It was the first time someone wrote something on me where I was totally mortified. I'm terrified of cancer and all that it brings, and have people close to me who are living and battling cancer. Florinda did not know this about me, though.

"Grrl - why did you write cancer on me?"

"Because this nine-year-old boy in my class told me today that he has cancer. Leukemia. I didn't realize he had cancer until he told me. It's been on my mind all day."

And then, I thanked her. For humbling me with this word. For inviting me to share something that moved her so deeply. And for allowing all of us at that table to share the weight of our struggles.

Gezla - the name of Yvonne's dog. Which was cool, cause Wura and I had just been talking about dogs. About how we become attached to our pets.

This evening Jen and I were sitting under the amazing Crape Myrtles at Cafe Mundi. The flowers were bright pink, and the leaves formed a gorgeous canopy over our heads. I asked Jen to write a word on me and she wrote "summon". Ooh la la. That's a Crape Myrtle trunk in my hand. I've been repeating the name of the tree because I just learned it. Isn't that a great name? Summon the Crape Myrtle! Sounds like magic.

W. was talking me about the fact that every artist has a moment of deep vulnerability - where they just don't get what they want. I guess that's true. I might spend an entire day working on one poem or chapter and not get what I want out of the process. Or just have something be flawed in a small or not so small way.

Well, today, I was not feeling well and not feeling like asking anyone for a word. I was laid up, and the thought of having to interact with anyone just made me nauseous. So there you have it. I didn't get a word today. I did, however, lie on the floor after inking my dog's paw after which he ran it across my back in his meager resistance to participating in this project. That's him, in the photo. That's my hand reaching to clean his paw. That's me on the floor, where I lay for like 5 minutes following this photo. Trying to find a way up.

I know it looks like he scratched me, but in a way, isn't that the most authentic dog word there could be (besides a paw print)?

Camille DuPrang July 8, 2007

Today, Camille, Wura and I met up for a celebratory drink. It was the perfect occasion to ask Camille to write a word on me. She was psyched. I was, too. She asked if she could write it on my chest. I agreed. She wrote home, complete with heart. Now that's a nicely layered idiom.

The setting: A backyard party at Yvette's in North Austin.
The players: Lots of people, including Lorenzo Herrera y Lozano and Ana-Maurine Lara.

There was this cute party where I learned how to make micheladas (thanks to Orlando) and where a small group of us got into a very passionate discussion on Latin@ LGBT politics, family, land, art and the role of artists in social change. In the midst of this, Lorenzo asked how the writing project was going. I asked him if he'd write a word. He said yes.

He wrote "possibilities" - and said, "That's the closest thing I have to religion. The idea that all is possible. " It was a very (meta) physical discussion there for a moment. Including the idea that our language, and our frameworks limit what we can imagine. How's that for a philosophical question?

How cool is that? And, then I ask, does the word become a possibility? The moment? The ink left on skin? At what level does possibility break down between time and space? And what does this all have to do with art? And being an artist? Everything, dahling. Everything.

Note the cool blue sharpie color. It's the same color Yosenio used to write the word on my arm. Note this right now: I didn't know his rationale for the word before choosing this color. He's passing through town, and this morning, standing in the sunlight by the side of his car, pen in hand, he explained to me the rationale behind the word:

"I've been thinking about this word for awhile. I was thinking about the branding of slaves, and how in the Holocaust, peoples' arms were marked by numbers tattoed on the skin. And I wanted to choose a word that is respectful of your history and that also shows that I have a relationship to you and your body, but not one of colonization or ownership in the way that our bodies have been owned."

Breath.

"And did you know that Auschwitz was the only camp that used numbers? And they had different colors that might have indicated the location from which people were snatched. And..."

"And you looked all this up?"

"Yes. I did some research, because I wanted the word to be a reclamation. To turn something negative into positive. A way to show love and companionship and to turn this history on its head."

And so he chose, "beloved".

Today's word is "shaft". That is such a malleable word. It also signifies a million different things in my mind, none of which I'll go into now - with the exception of that 70s on-screen lothario - Shaft. Replayed by Samuel Jackson in 2000.

Still the man?

I am on DAY 50 of this project. If you weren't ever an athlete this metaphor might not make sense. But if you were, I know you'll feel. And I used to be an athlete - a long, long long time ago as Andre 3000 says. And I used to swim the 500 yard freestyle. And right around halfway, I would be staring at the bottom of the pool cursing myself and my coach for this race. But also knowing I couldn't give up either.

I'm at the halfway point people. And I'm feeling lazy about it. Today, I went through the various rationales - "I'm feeling kinda under the weather." "Well, 50's pretty good." "Word. Photo. Scan. Blog. Word. Photo. Scan. Blog. Word. Photo." you get the idea.

But no - I think it's that I hadn't gotten my word of the day yet. Today I got "loser". Yeah baby! Someone brave enough to put down the first word that came to their head.

Now, loser is one of those words that we always toss around so casually. "He's such a loser." "I feel like a loser." "Loser." "Don't be such a loser." But words hurt, people. Afterall, it's not like we also go around saying: "She's such a winner." "I feel like a winner today." "Winner." "Don't be such a winner." If someone went around saying that, we'd all be like "What a freaking loser."

It was a rainy day...

and i was at the library once again. When I went up to Meghan and asked her if she wanted to write on me. I felt kinda bad since she was sitting minding her own business, when I accosted her, really, but she was game. She wrote "faith" on my arm.

Girl - I hear it's what you have when there's no hope left. A cynic told me that one.

Oh - and that funky spirit in the picture/polaroid getting stuck on the roller thing happened again. It's bright pink when it first happens. But then it turns black. It's pretty both ways.

Dulani and I met up at Mary's Ice Cream Shoppe on W 4th Street for a quick minute - well, it as more like 60 minutes. Thanks for the word "acceptance" D! (BTW - Isn't it crazy how the sign for Jones Street is 100 times clearer than the word? go photo skills)

Myronn and I were on the train together for about 9 hours. We were heading back to NYC from the Cave Canem retreat. Oh we were having a good time. Sharing stories from our travels and stories from the subway. Talking about poetry and teaching. At one moment - I think it's when we pulled into Newark, I turned to Myronn and asked him if he wanted to write a word on me. He was shocked. Cause of course, I forgot I hadn't told him about the project until that moment. But, he said he'd do it anyway. So, as the train rumbled up the tracks to NYC, Myronn skillfully wrote "bake" on my arm.

Myronn Hardy July 1, 2007

That's skills, Myronn - to write on a moving train. Now, if you see the wiggles, it's cause the train was moving and bumping.

And I love that word - "bake". Effectively mysterious.