Passion Makes Art Worth Looking At

Somewhere at this very instant a dancer landed her first double pirouette. A small-town musician, struggling financially and emotionally, has composed a song that everyone on every street will be singing and listening to in a few weeks. An actress discovered how to allow a character to live through her body, voice, actions, and soul. All of these people are all related under art. These achievements are the beginnings of a long road that leads to the understanding of one’s inner artist.

My definition of an artist is someone who can lose himself or herself in the context, texture, or movement in an art, to the point where he or she feels and appears invulnerable and beautiful. An artist can captivate anyone, ranging from a YouTube viewer, to a reader, to someone sitting in the front row of a Broadway production.

Before artists reach their achievements, they have to discover themselves through training. I took a workshop at Hawaii Theatre for Youth. A slam poet, Bridget Grey, led the workshop. Bridget had opened with a poem introducing her nationalities and where she stands in life. Saying each verse, her body swayed from side to side while her hands made gestures to strengthen the meaning of each word she said. Bridget Grey wasn’t saying her poem. She was living it.

The first task was to create a word bank. Bridget gave me a list of words. I was to define each one, connecting a life experience to each word. If I were to ever have a writer’s block, I could use this word bank to draw inspiration from. I had listed the most vivid memories that I remembered on the spot. Some were memories that I wish I couldn’t remember, and some were memories I would enjoy replaying in my head.

Bridget Gray gave me fifteen minutes to write my poem. Of all the memories in my head, the most dreadful one kept replaying. I felt irritated and angered by this memory. I wanted to write a poem that was full of lively joy. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get it out of my head. I remember writing out the first word, and how good it felt. It seemed as if my thoughts and my left hand were working together to release the dreadful memory out of my life. My pen kept moving and writing as my thoughts were uncontrollably spilling.

Performing my poem on the Hawaii Theatre stage with the lights on me was quite an experience. The dreadful memory was something I have lived out before. Like how Bridget lived out her poem, I did too. My voice shot out far into all directions into the theatre. My body language performed a small dance that clicked every word into the right place. Passion is a strong feeling. In this case, passion was dementia to the memory.

I offered and gave up this memory to the audience. I lived this poem because of passion.