In October, TBP goes on the road, to Naropa University, a Buddhist college in Boulder. It is home to my mentor--writer, professor, and Aryuvedic healer--Bhanu Kapil. It is also home to a healthier aspect of  Jack Kerouac's spirit.   And , I will be met there by my friends and fellow performance artists/bodyworkers from the San Francisco Bay Area.  Here is a description of our panel in the conference: Writing and Performing [Dis]embodied States of Being: The Poetics of Disability, Movement, Grief, and Sensuality   Shelia Black, Amber DiPietra, Margit Galanter, Lisa Gill, Violet Juno, and Denise Leto. As five interdisciplinary artists, we propose a collaborative panel presentation which will involve poetry, multimedia, and cross-genre performance exploring the poetics of embodiment/disembodiment: how different and differently abled bodies move in space and time both on and off the page in relation to movement, language, loss, and sensuality. Through somatic pr...

A body poetics workshop for getting in touch with your own unique sensuality through poems, songs, lit fragments, anecdotes, some meditation, breath work, and other quirky hybrid improv stuff. Your sacrum is your root chakra, the tip of your tail bone, you anchor and drive. Poetics is not words and lines, but pulse and sensation. Let's explore. This workshop can take many directions depending upon participant expectations and interests, so bring your sensual, poetic hopes and intentions! Find out more about me at writetoconnect.blogspot.com I am a poet, performance artist and CA-certified sexological bodyworker. People of all ages (18 and up), shapes, sizes, genders, and orientations welcome! Artsy-types of all kinds welcome (not just poets) Bodyworkers too...! Starts August 16th, 3:30pm at Wilson's Book World . $10 suggested donation.

This comedian lady at Portland's version of TEDTalks explains Exactly what it felt like when I was at sex school in San Francisco this April. She also helps me out of the rut I have been in since last week, when a very artsy, zany red-headed naked lady came up to me at Caliente (where supposedly, I was might find a welcoming community of clients and fellow explorers). This lady looked at my flyers for intro to sex bod classes, laughed and said, "Oh honey, I already know how to masturbate." The rut wash;t about her misconception, but my failure to articulate how much and more and how much less it was then that, the zen of it. Eva says "I wanted to know what was beyond this place [...] I had come to this class for erotic embodiment [...] throwing myself off the cliff of sexual vulnerability [...]" And she explains why poetry, or stand-up, or artful telling, is the hilarious, strange, beautiful moment of orgasm and failure and being alive.