Basking In It

New Show, New Material, and Smiling Until My Face Hurt

Photos by Wes Stanfield

A week ago I took my new material to stage for the first time in years. In the last few years, I’ve been writing but for a while life was too hard to take my new material to stage. I kept writing and every now and then I’d take my new shit to an open mic where hardly anyone knew me or read a poem or two with my friends, but when one or two new pieces turned into several, I decided maybe it was time to take my new material to stage to see what it would do. I called the show New Shit and a Few Stories to Tell. I figured having “shit” in the title would keep anyone expecting to hear my previous church content at bay. Or it might make some church folks who like to hear other people say shit but don’t want to be caught saying shit themselves want to attend. Either way I wanted to be clear that I’m bringing my new shit and what my art is becoming to stage.

My friend Adán Bean agreed to open with a poetry set. My husband DJ Opdiggy agreed to deejay and perform with me. Eddie’s Attic, one of my favorite venues in the Atlanta area, agreed to host the show and tickets went on sale. I had several insecure and existential crises leading up to the show. What was I doing?! Why was I taking my untested material to a PAID audience?! Did I want to get booed? Or heaven forbid experience the awkward silence of the audience not knowing what the hell to do while I performed?! What if no one showed up?! What if only one person showed up and I had to perform all my new vulnerable shit just for them?!

The week of the show I had to get my head in the game. Like it or not I had agreed to this show, people had bought tickets, and I wanted to try out my new material so I read through the new work, rehearsed by myself and with DJ Opdiggy, freaked out, tried my new set, almost cried, and freaked out until the day of the show.

The morning of the show I dropped our dog off at doggie daycare and went home to time my set. I was trying to do a tight hour. When I timed the show, it was a little over one hour and twenty minutes. YIKES. YIKINGTON. I reviewed my set list again and started cutting. Tightening a performance set is a special kind of editing. You don’t necessarily have to kill your darlings but you do have to sometimes set them aside or tell them it isn’t their turn this time. And I had to do this for a couple of things in my set. There wasn’t enough time so I had to focus in as much as possible.

By the time I finished cutting the set short, I had 45 minutes to shower, get dressed, do my hair and a full face of makeup. WHEW CHILE. I did all of this, except I resolved to finish untwisting the other half of my hair in the car. Our friend Wes Stanfield agreed to take photos for the night and our friend Aimme agreed to capture some video, while Matt agreed to set up our camera in the back of the room so I’d have footage of the new material to review.

I was the early show and another artist was the last show after me. When we arrived at Eddie's Attic, we found out that the late show artist unfortunately had to cancel at the last minute which left Adán, DJ Opdiggy and me with way more time than we imagined we’d have. For the most part, I stuck with my initial resolve to cut the pieces I’d cut from the set but there was one I decided to add back.

DJ Opdiggy deejayed some jams to set the mood. My homie Adán got up and did a great set of poetry shouting out Atlanta, holding space for the atrocities happening in P@lest!ne, talking about the ways Black people use humor as a survival tool, and the importance of overcoming. And then he introduced me.

I looked at the audience full of many people I knew and some I didn’t, and of the people I knew there were from various pockets of my life, some who I hadn’t seen in YEARS. And some people I didn’t know at all. They just took a chance on the show based on an online description or show flyer. The room was full and warm as I read my new work and told my new stories. We laughed. We danced. I cussed. We sang and rapped along. I dedicated my last poem to my dad who passed away in 2023. When I finished the poem, the audience gave me a standing ovation.

After the show I hugged my friends and family. I smiled until my cheeks hurt. I didn’t expect the show to go bad. I expected it to be pretty good but it went GREAT. And I’m still not over it.

A few months ago, I was sitting next to Aku Kadogo, choreographer and Spelman College Chair of the Department of Theater and Performance, at an event. We had met a couple of times and I had heard she had just completed a big show at Spelman. When I asked her how the show went she said, “It went SO WELL! Before I think about what’s next, I’m giving myself two weeks to bask in it.”

Her words have been echoing with me ever since. So after my show, before I think about what’s next, I’m taking Aku’s advice, I’m basking in it. I’m basking in the way my friends, family, and colleagues showed up for me. I’m basking in having new work and the capacity to perform it. I’m basking in how good it felt to be back on stage. Basking is what’s next.

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I’m listening to…Afro Blue Impressions by John Coltrane

I’m watching…SINNERS OMG!!! What a brilliant movie! WOW!

I’m reading…We Want Our Bodies Back by Jessica Care Moore

Feeling inspired by…SINNERS!!! WHEW!!!

Shoutout to…strawberries in spring time