And this is the one i wrote, one year later....Interesting, how many unforseen changes...if you told me a year ago I would be writing a weekly column, my eyebrows would have been raised so high,they would have fallen off my face!!! Bayside 27
This is going to be one of those columns where I try to fit ten lbs. of "stuff" in a five lb. sack. I started my adventures off with Open-Mic night at The Waterline Gallery in Berlin. As I have written before, it is a wonderful way to express yourself as a musician or writer, or just soak up the art displayed as you socialize and enjoy the performances. Open-Mic is a new concept for me, and I definitely put it in the plus category for living in Delmarva. A special thanks to Paul of "Trish and Paul", the emcee for Open-Mic. Not only has he donated his time for this community service, but as I speak, he is with The Red Cross down in Louisiana, aiding Katrina victims.
Saturday Night I found myself at another Open-Mic at Barnes and Noble in Salisbury. This one was for Poetry only, and is held the 2nd Saturday of each month. This month's guest moderator was Henry Wilson, and what caught me as much as his poetry was the fact that he wrote many of his poems working in a factory, when his machine was down or idle. Aspiring as well as accomplished poets are encouraged to read their work, and the cushy chairs to sit and listen in aren't bad, either.
Sunday brought another adventure. As much as I love music and writing, sometimes you just have to put on your flip-flops and go have fun. I have always felt an affinity with Native Americans, so when I was invited to go to the annual Nanticoke Indian Powwow, I went. I guess I expected something out of one of the old westerns I watched as a child, with Native Americans clearly defined by straight black hair and coppery skin tones, yet that wasn't what I found at all. In fact, without the colorful tribal clothing, they could have been any gathering of Americans, black, white, blue-eyed, curly haired, well, you get the picture. What I found as I watched the dances, watched the interactions, was a solid unity of heritage, of family, regardless of individual looks or tribe. My beautiful friend Elizabeth, age 16, was one of the women shawl dancers, and it took my breath away to see her swoop and sway with the other women, like brightly colored butterflies flying in a field. There were at least a thousand people present, native and visitors, participating or watching the dancers, listening to the sweet flute and hypnotic drums, and milling around eating fry bread and other native delicacies. Craftsmen , with hand-written signs denoting tribe of origin, sold intricate beaded moccasins and buckskin clothing, as well as handcrafted jewelry, herbs, and pottery. I was very pleasantly surprised to run into Doris Price, an extremely talented artist I wrote about months ago when covering The Beachcomber's Easel Art Gallery, in West Ocean City. A Native Indian herself, she has graciously invited me to her home to view her private collection. (I will tell you all about it when I go.)
I left the powwow full to the brim with song, and sound, and color. There are several powwows coming up in the area this fall, and I highly recommend the experience. I found a listing of upcoming events at www.500nations.com. See you next week!