PORTUGUESE ARTISTS COLONY: mastermind
In case you haven’t noticed, Portuguese Artists Colony is en fuego. There’s something about confines that allows us to grow, and when we know we’re not going anywhere we can really occupy our space. I’m talking about Fivepoints Arthouse, of course, where PAC has had residence now for well over a year. In that time, the series has grown so much that … well, founder/host Caitlin Myer just produced one in Portugal.
Yes, that’s a bit of a coincidence. But is it really? Caitlin always dreamt of starting an artists colony in Portugal. She had plans to go, but the economy interrupted her dreams with an extended commercial break (yeah, that’s clever), and she decided to start the colony here. Myer has long been a prolific writer; every Friday, you know, you can catch her and some of the colonists at Cafe La Boheme at noon for a brilliant writing exercise. But month after month she, along with the other colonists, churned out a new story for the series from January 10 to September 10, when they initiated Live Writing (and now alternate which of the colonists read each month). The work paid off; Myer won a contest that sent her to Lisbon, where she was able to host her American Portuguese Artists Colony. As a result, Carey Tennis hosted this SF episode the day before. Check it out and see how strong the colony was sans its founder.
I’m very sorry to say we missed James Warner‘s follow-up to his May Live Writing victory because the show started on time! That was the first difference. We also missed a short play by William Bivins, though there is a great one below as well. Enjoy some James, from the March QL:
Live Writing :: Theme: “She Presses the Button”
First: Joe sat at the table, sweating in his panda costume, while Josephine twiddled her thumbs.
Last: Just as he finished unbuttoning the last button, relieving himself of fur and sweat, Joe looked up to see Josephine smirking, mysterious and disappearing, as she presses the button.
First: She watched the yellow lights of the highway stretch out before her as she pressed the button and the window rolled down.
Last: He has taken that for now and filled it with love and hope and for now, for that she adores him and looks into his brown eyes when he turns to her, thinking to himself that for maybe this moment is only ephemeral, that it will pass, that there will be struggle, but for this reason, and for all the years of loss and all the reasons he’s been lost, that this is the reason he is found.
First: The old clanky machinery begins to whir as the elevator approaches our floor.
Last: Grandma never tolerates any nonsense, but sometimes she’s more aggressive about it than others; this is one of those times.
Note: Lauren’s performance was somehow lost in the shuff. But you can enjoy a stellar reading of hers below:
Leslie Ingham :: “Compassion”
First: Because Mike had money, he had bought the warehouse straight out: no financing, he laid cash in the hands of the previous owners and took it as-is.
Last: She moved into focus, then out of focus, and was gone.
Carey Tennis :: “Men at Work”
First: I gotta call John.
Last: Christ almighty, I’m failing!
Jason Flores-Williams :: Closing Night | The Last Stand of Mr. America
First: I want to honor this sacred order of resistance by rallying the troops, against a gentrifying herd turning NYC into a corporate theme park, but there are no troops to rally, and if there were troops, we’d have to attack ourselves.
Last: I’m talking about dangerous expression that will make Todd and Ashley think long and hard about moving into the hood, and exposing their little banker to the new hip warriors of the American night.
First: Hey baby Europe is pretty fucking intense, you know, I mean when I was over there I was all hash and partying and this could go on forever there I mean you don’t eat dinner until like 10 o’clock.
Last: I pull out my shit-covered dick, fall back on my ass, and blow a prayer that lands on my face: clean, maybe even holy.
William Bivins :: The Altered Landscape
First: Lena looks out at the distance as Frank adjusts the camera on a tripod.