This week is Roar Week here in the city of champions. The Roar is a three-day spoken-word / poetic melee that runs on September 21, 22, 23. I’m the festival producer of The Roar. A ton of hot, hot, rockin’ events are lined up (including MY reading, “Mike Gravel and the Underground Gynecologists” – more on that later in the week). It also happens to be the week of the Edmonton Poetry Festival, Edmonton’s newly-minted week-long poetry bash. The best reading of the EPF, in my humble opinion anyways, will most definitely be a reading by the infamous “Wednesdays”, a group of five women to whom Wednesday is a day of coming together in common purpose and passion: to write. They get together on Wednesdays, talk about poetry and all its vagaries, down a sniff of whiskey, and do some writing. Not a bad way to while away the mid-week doldrums. The Wednesdays (or as I like to call them, “The W’s”) have made the crappiest day of the week a day of community. There’s a catch to this Poetry Festival reading by The Wednesdays. This week, The Wednesdays are reading on a Tuesday. THIS TUESDAY. TOMORROW. Here’s the full skinny:
The Wednesdays: On Our Way
Poetry by: Beckie Garber-Conrad, Cathy Hodgson, Kerry Mulholland, Rebecca Schellenberg, and Amy Willans.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
The City Arts Center
10943 – 84 Avenue, Edmonton
Doors @ 6:30pm; performance at 7:00pm
Hosted by uber-MC Michael Gravel.
Admission $5.00 at the door.
Fine Poetry, wine at a modest price, and good things to eat.
It’s sure to be a hot night of verse. I’ll be hosting the affair. Should be a blast. Check it out!
Coming Wednesday: Mike Gravel and the Underground Gynecologists.
StreetRag is an urban weblog and podcast about the city of Edmonton, which is located in the province of Alberta, Canada. It is authored by Edmonton-based writer, web advocate, and poet Michael Gravel and is updated frequently with written urban vignettes, amateurish photographs, deuteronomous audio material, barely coherent musings and rambling ecumenical treatises. StreetRag is a love letter to a lonely prairie burg struggling with its big city ambitions and small-town feel.
The city is Edmonton. It's a subject, not a passion. E-Town is almost universally derided by outsiders as an unlivable tundra wasteland populated by oil-hungry redneck conservatives who despise the arts. All of that is true. But it's not the whole story. There is beauty here. Dusty snowfalls. Brilliant summers. A stunning river valley. A diverse arts community that flourishes. It's a place that inspires a gray relationship - not all good, not all shitty. For that reason alone it is lovable, for what is life but a grayscale?