So I have started a storytelling night at Bar Sepia and I have no idea what I’m doing. Whoo. That felt good. Now maybe I can organize it or something. I know, I’ll write out my mission statement for it here:
To create a safe space to share real life stories and making our neighbors (and new neighbors) know each others humanity thus strengthening our neighborhood.
That sounds awfully lofty. Does it even mean anything? Speak plainly kiddo.
I want the newbies in Pros. Heights to hear the stories of us old timers and for us to hear them. I’m doing this for myself because I don’t particularly take a shine to the newbies. I think they’re arrogant and rude for the most part and inconsiderate of the people who’ve lived here before them. I know, it’s still part of my gentrification blues. I know, they’re not all demons and some of them are struggling. But the ones who are buying million dollar apt’s and giving the finger to us poor renters, well fuck you too.
So that’s why I wanted to open a forum to help me with my own prejudices and tell some stories. I also want to be able to tell my own stories. It’s funny how everyone has a certain idea about why I want to do this. But it is really something I’d do for free. Sure I need money, but I know the money will come. It always does. I want to do it out of love. That’s what always brings me money.
My first month was excellent. I was nervous but I knew I had some great stories coming my way. This is what I do. I tell stories. I have to get over myself. I’m still censoring myself publicly. I want to tell riskier stories but get freaked out by it in front of my friends. It’s like, am I too fat to tell this story? WTF? This world’s done a number in my brain.
So I’m building it. I hope they come. I want to be cool as a cucumber and just trust that I do what I do.
We’ll see next Monday.