Benediction.

I just got back from the poetry evening - what an amazing event! We had crazy wordflow slams, heartfelt love poems, dark brooding questions about faith, fairy tale epics, lyrical accusations for a drunken ex-boyfriend, some Shel Silverstein, a bit of improv... and a guy in weird-looking pants talking about Indiana Jones and leopards.

I've already talked enough about my poetry on this blog, so instead I'll take this space to marvel at the talent of a hundred different rivers that flowed together tonight. I had no idea we'd draw such a wonderful crowd.

Some people, though, were counting on exactly that. Specifically, one person who was (unbeknownst to me) doing a bit of scouting for a play she's producing (Although, to be fair, most producers I've known are *always* in a state of constant scouting). After my set, she came up and said, "How come you're not in my play?"

At first, I was a bit defensive. I say a lot of things to a lot of people, and they often start with, "You know what we should do some day?". I wasn't entirely sure I hadn't already signed up somehow without knowing it.

But finally, we got our stories straightened out, and it seems that she's looking for someone to play Benedick in her summer production of Much Ado About Nothing.

That's right - Medicine Hat's Inaugural Shakespeare in the Park Festival, June 2011. Starring me. (Perhaps. I mean, they have understudies for a reason.)

And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I have a play I'd better read.

Nothing rhymes with "lead refrigerator".

I could get used to this poetry thing.

Really, the hardest part is figuring out what I want to say. But once I've got that established, it's just a matter of fitting the right words in the right places. It's kind of like Sudoku, except that you can show it to others once you're done.

And much like last time, I've circumvented the first step by delving into fanfiction. Although I'm pretty happy with the end result, since it seems like I might be talking about metaphors for life, when I'm actually just referencing the timeline from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Not that this is the end result quite yet - I think there are a few synonyms and prepositions I have yet to tweak. But, it's close enough to warrant sharing - so voilà!

For truth and wisdom, ask the earth

The road to glory has a map

In time, all things will rise in worth

Gouge the soil, it does not hurt

The prize it guards, it did not trap

For truth and wisdom, ask the earth

The raven's call will guide your thirst

from dampened ditch to mountain cap

In time, all things will rise in worth

Half the riddle's solved with words

the sun lights the remaining path

For truth and wisdom, ask the earth

Fear not the treasure hunter's curse

Look not at what you have in hand

In time, all things will rise in worth

The journey must go on, but first

the doctor dons his favourite hat

For truth and wisdom, ask the earth

In time, all things will rise in worth.

See what I mean? I'm not talking about following the call of nature to go out and explore and sate your spiritual thirst; I'm talking about finding Marion Ravenwood in the Himalayas during a drinking contest.

"The curse of the treasure hunter" isn't to be discontent with what you've just found, and to always yearn for the next discovery. No, the curse is something that will melt your face off if you look at it.

Still, if anyone ever wants to publish this... well, hopefully they won't have read this blog entry.

Our little secret, okay?

Oh, and here's a little bonus content:

There once was a scholar named Marcus

Who found himself lost in the dark-us.

He cried for a week

In his best Ancient Greek

'Til he found his way out of the park-us.

Out of the Garden of Madness.

Well, I did take pictures, but there's not much about a collection of long-distance, low-light shots that make them worth sharing. Sorry. However, once you've seen Team Rocket try to capture Red XIII (of Final Fantasy VII) by throwing a katamari at it, it's hard to imagine the picture that would have done that costume contest justice.

Second highlight of the costumes: The fellow dressed as Indiana Jones who didn't just bring a whip, but could actually crack it. Rather terrifying, until we realised that unlike the real Dr. Jones, he wasn't making it up as he went along.

Most obscure costume: The final season of "Reboot"? Seriously?

"The Spirit of Cosplay" award: The man was about fifty years old. He was forty kilograms overweight. At least 10% of that weight was in his jowls. He wasn't an ideal Batman, and he knew it. That's why he was a perfect Adam West. Easily one of the crowd favourites (not counting the five-year-old Iron Man).

I wanted to see fandom at its finest, and I was not disappointed.

What did disappoint me? I'll get to that tomorrow.