Sunday April 12, 2015 I woke up disoriented. I had not slept very much and realized I forgot to book my hotel in Portland for that night. I frantically searched the hotel website that I was planning on staying at but they don’t do booking online for same-day reservations. I called to ask if they had any availability and they ended up being completely booked. I searched online for other hotels/motels/b&b’s/etc. but none of them ended up working out. I was disappointed that of all things I could forget to do, it was book a hotel, but I also was thankful that Olympia to Portland is only about a 2-hour drive. That’s when I decided I would just drive back to Olympia that night.

Still a bit disoriented, I grabbed my backpack and headed out. While I was on the freeway I couldn’t help but feel a great sense of joy. Sure, I wasn’t going to Ireland, but this was the first road trip I had ever taken alone… And that was a good feeling (several days later I find out that the plane I was supposed to be on to go to Ireland had an emergency landing in New York do to an engine failing). After arriving in Portland I quickly became irritated because there are so many one-way streets and so many stoplights in a row you can’t turn left at to get to the street you need! I finally said f it and decided to spend $10 to park at a lot for only 2 hours. I grabbed my cruiser and skated towards Powell’s City of Books. I stopped at a bench to people-watch and look at the architecture around me but I got bored pretty quickly because there weren’t very many people in that area. I looked around Powell’s for about an hour and a half and purchased a new wallet, 2 pairs of socks, and 3 amazing books that have nothing to do with my field study. I skated back to my car (about 10 blocks) and headed to where the Portland Poetry Slam Finals were being held.

I missed the turn for the street I was supposed to be on but luckily I was able to find it just fine, an hour and a half early. I realized I didn’t have any cash on me so I went to Voodoo Doughnuts to use their ATM but the line was out the door quite a bit, so I searched credit union ATM’s nearby so I didn’t have to pay the fee and found one a few blocks away. I get there but they have a sign saying they moved 5 blocks away… So I get there and they’re closed. I had to take a moment to breathe because at this point I was frustrated at just about everything – mostly because I had not eaten anything that day and it was about 5:30pm by that point. I ended up going to a 76 gas station, which was only a block away from where I originally was when I realized I didn’t have any cash. I got the cash, went back towards the venue, and sat in my car listening to Globelamp while I wrote down observations about my surroundings.

Finally to the Portland Slam Finals!!! It was strange being in a new city completely alone. After paying, a woman drew on everyone’s hand either in blue or black ink to determine potential judges… If you knew a poet personally, you got written on in black, if you didn’t you got blue like I did. I sat alone in the 2^nd row corner while a stained glass white jesus stared me down. The host went up to the stage to explain a little about slam poetry and to thank people for helping put this night together. They got in trouble by the fire marshal at their last venue so they did not have a set place until about 2 weeks before the event. I went to a Portland Slam event in the Fall of 2014 so I recognized a few of the performers and audience members. The host, Jill Greenseth, did not perform while I was there during the Fall trip but they had made it to the Slam Finals and were more amazing than I even thought possible. They are also one of the finalists who are going to Nationals. Below are recordings of their pieces in order of what round they were performed.

Another one of my favorite poets from the Portland Slam Finals is named Doc Luben. In Fall 2014 Kirstie Opel interviewed him before the show. This was a whole new level of poems and it was incredible being able to be apart of the audience. He is also a finalist going to Nationals and below are 3 of his pieces in order of what round he performed them.

I recorded every poet and kept track of all the scores. A poet/musician named Jared Paul was the featured poet of that night and opened up the night (fast-forward 1 week and he was at Evergreen doing a workshop about slam poetry that I almost went to when I didn’t even realize that was the same guy). There were 3 rounds – the first 2 rounds had 9 poets and the last round had 6 – from there a decision had come based off the total scores of all 3 rounds of 4 people who are going to represent Portland at the National Poetry Slam held in August in Oakland, California.

Attending the slam was great inspiration for my writing. I spent the rest of week 3 reading Fugitives & Refugees, going to the Capitol Forest, and writing. Fugitives & Refugees was a good choice for this weeks reading because it had various suggestions of places in Portland to visit while also giving a little bit of history and even some directions. I took notes on places that caught my eye from cafes to haunted locations. I have decided to visit Forest Park – the biggest park in Portland that has over 60 miles of trails and connects to 5 other parks and wildlife sanctuaries (page 116).

creek watercolor

I decided to take trips to the Capitol Forest in Olympia because I love forests and because it is a great place to get writing done. I also decided to work with watercolors for this weeks sketch. I jumped a fence off the trail that led me down to the creek. It was so peaceful and was actually about 70 degrees that day. It’s certainly not the best watercolor in the world but I am still learning how to work with watercolors and I have never been great at drawing.

I have written 3 poems this week but am planning on editing them to make me a bit more comfortable having other people read… But here is the first little bit of one:

 I sit amongst pine needles
And broken glass
On the empty staircase
Between madness and sanity
An ant circles around dead leaves
And I wonder if god
Looks at me with the same curiosity