turning in about my personal experience and more objective reflection
about This is Not a Step, a fest my band played at Gilman in Berkeley
about a month ago, and what I know about the life of Sarah Kirsch, a
bay area musician, whom the fest was honoring and dedicated to. Sarah
died of a rare form of Leukemia in December after transitioning from a
man to a woman, whatever you want to call it. Either way, this person,
Sarah, was an invaluable member of her community and how she effected
people was nothing short of amazing, but I’m sure, as she would agree,
nobody is a demigod or figurehead necessarily and everyone is just
human.
**The essay will reflect some of the stuff I’ve taken from Harris’s
rewriting, as I plan on forwarding some stuff from Torches to Rome an
essay-type writing by Sarah. I will also spend a considerable amount
of time on this piece of writing, more so than other analytical
pieces, because I want it to be sharp, and reflect the rigorous
process of peer editing, and multiple drafts. Therefore, I think
posting this intitial stage is important to document the process and
development or an experience, or idea –the DNA of an essay.
BRAINSTORMING
Come to think of it now, I have some pictures of Sarah Kirsch posing
with Ilyia when they played a show at Fusion Café with Mother Country
Mother Fuckers back in 2011. The pictures taken on my iphone are dark
and blurry, Ilyia is crossing his eyes and I think that Sarah is
wearing a bright pink wig, although my memory may be unreliable. I
need to look at the pictures again. This was a casual encounter, that
I may have thought about more given what I would learn in the future,
but that is how things work out I guess.
Other than that we are cramming into a van and driving down the 1-5
like we’ve done so many times before. I don’t place too much
significance towards something that is so normal. Some of us are sick
with nasty head colds. The grapevine is something ridiculous like 110
degrees and the van is dark blue everything and is just begging for
the intense heat and my mucus membranes break here and for the rest of
the trip I am snotty and under head pressure so the ringing in my ears
is really apparent and makes me feel like I’m viewing things through
an
We get to the show at Gilman, and play shortly thereafter, and I am
sweating so profusely with sickness that I fear my sticks will fly
straight out of my hands. This is Friday, the first night of the fest.
We have a lot of good friends here and we’re happy to see and play
with great bands and get out of the van.
This is Not a Step is a fest to celebrate the life of Sarah Kirsch. A
weekends worth of bands playing at Gilman in Berkeley, with proceeds
going to the Pacific Center for Human Growth, the oldest LGBT Center
in the bay area, and to the Fanconi Anemia Research Fund. There is a
wonderful hand screened, two colored poster: The shape of California
state, berkely county and This Is Not a Step emphasized in red against
the black text of the bands that are playing. All sorts of great
stuff.
-What are some key feelings or ideas that you are trying to convey
here? What is your experience? What touched you? Why was this
experience significant?
-Sitting outside Gilman on the quarter and reading that paper with the
picture of sarah that explains what This is Not a Step Means
-I didn’t know Sarah personally, but I am good friends with people who
were close with her: Ilyia and Rosie. It was unavoidable to feel the
effect of how this person effected the lives of others. There are some
moments of this weekend that I remember specifically: Going to the
section of the Redwoods where Sarah had gone. A separate moment when I
asked Rosie where she got her watch, and she told me that it was
Sarah’s and how suddenly I’m thinking that watch has so much
significance now. During the show, Rosie is reading out of book (ask
Rosie what the book was) and someone bursts into tears next to me and
is comforted by a friend, and I am emberassed for myself for being
uncomfortable for such an open display of grief.
-How inspiring the concept behind this is not a step is for me. What
it means to have community and be a musician.
-The strange feeling of having someone be such a presence, when
they’re not actually in the room, and then reading “torches to rome”
in this zine they were handing out, and then suddenly this person has
a direct voice. Is speaking directly to the reader. Is alive in print
even though they are dead.
My new observations of transgender awareness and the use of male and
female pronouns.
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