"walking the line" with jessica Care moore

It felt like I was having a conversation with an old friend.

Words reached out from the walls, from the covers of books and the pages of poems. They stretched in bright graffiti paint script and bold block poster face. The tools of poems and language danced across canvases, surrounded by tendrils of color.

"it's not that i haven't heard it before"

The writer, the poet, the artist danced among them. I could see the soft glimmer of stardust on her skin, as I listened to her converse with admirers.

"it was your elbow nudge"

Drawn by glimpses of stories on the walls, I bought her book. The graceful, elegant bookseller mentioned Jessica's warmth and energy. "You will have her sign your book", she said. I hadn't thought of it, approaching a famous poet, but it seemed natural, the way she spoke of it.

"building a nest with snowballs, poems &

my one year old's imagination"

So I asked her about books making the base of a sculpture in the corner of the room, a waterfall of books pouring from the figure of a queen of words. "How did you pick the books?", I asked. She spoke of her many books at home. She had wanted the river of books to be bigger, taller, but the space constrained her. She assembled them as a reflection of her journey with language, texts of the old canon and the new one she hopes to create, mixed together.

"a line i dare you to walk over

a line sometimes too unbearable for breath"

Then I asked her to sign my book. She sat down with me, a stranger, and asked me about myself, and what I thought of the show. This tiny, fierce dynamo, five time winner of Showtime at the Apollo, talked of feeling vulnerable at her art show opening, of how it is always daunting to try something new. She was so encouraging and genuine. I felt inspired and a little tongue-tied, as though I could tell her of hopes and dreams that most people would scoff at.

"the gritty birthplace of our art

that couldn't contain or control

the capacity

of our hearts" 

When I got home and opened my book, it said, "Continue to write, grow, and love".

Jessica Care Moore's exhibit, NANOC: I Sing the Body Electric runs through January 15th, at the Dell Pryor Gallery, inside the Spiral Collective. For more information, visit here.

All quotations are from poems in her book, God Is Not An American. She writes magically of Detroit and beyond.

"a wasteland with new lofts downtown.

a holy place with schools and no books.

abandoned neighborhoods & beauty

beyond belief."

Find Jessica's book at Moore Black Press, or at Source Booksellers. Visit her website here.