I am certain that if I do not write, I do not live. I know because in small bursts of my life when I have not written, there is less joy. Writing is my breath and performance is my dance, the favorite song on the iPod I just have to move to. Poetry is the prominent medium I use to reflect my art and life. My poetry is obviously feminist without being isolating; it is bold without being overbearing. It is not reflective of the commercial feminine ideal but it is always welcomed, even after the initial discomfort is eliminated by my delivery style. It is designed to heal and resonate the experiences within the body of women, African Americans, mothers and Midwesterners with a benefit to those who listen or read my work.
I explore all of the various ways I can express politics, concerns, grappling with motherhood, art, ancestry, and career. When I perform spoken word poetry, my delivery is never the same. It becomes a collaborative project with the community. The energy of the crowd, the musicians that accompany the performance and the moment itself determine the art. While this may frustrate an audience ready to receive the same rendition of their “favorite piece”, we find that words can express movement as much as they can express feeling.
Poetry floats into my personal essays, novels, and short stories, swimming freely to give breath and movement to my desire to create. What I do most in my work is to take very concentrated and private moments and flush them out with emotional imagery. I am most interested in the way words become a vehicle for people to view themselves and others as well; the words impact them emotionally, and many times aid in their healing. My poetry recomposes the obvious yet is expressed with my idiomatic insights. I welcome each breath and dance.