Norman Music Festival 2025: From Mourning to Magic

Ok, so boom. (insert hand clap)

Tuesday - Mourn and Sing

I had edited my poem three weeks prior to the festival. I had been casually rehearsing it. I made a rehearsal video for Ko-fi. And then, Tuesday, I had a fight with my lover (1). Emotionally, I still tantrum like a child, so I was losing my mind about it. But my poem says “we mourn and we sing.” It is three stanzas about Black people making art and joy out of shit. Sometime Tuesday or Wednesday I realized that poem was asking me to believe my own writing, to make art and make joy at the same time as the struggle. 

Wednesday - Breakdowns and Backtracking

While checking my dry text inbox, I saw a DM. The homie convinced me to go to Red Dirt Open Mic because he was reading a poem he was proud of. So I prepped in the quiet, dropped off my kid ($50!), and went. My lover and I don’t talk every day—that’s normal—but I felt it extra that day. I needed to rehearse and thought I was mostly stage ready. But my performance was…not that good. I dropped a bunch of lines. My heart was beating all extra fast, which is how my anxiety manifests.

When I left, feeling defeated and nervous about Saturday, I was obviously also checking my phone every 10 seconds for messages. The drive to pick up my kid and back home was very long. She was up past her bedtime and fell asleep in the back seat, and while I was listening to love songs on repeat, trying to convince myself that I have to stay in the game, I missed my exit. And the next exit was 11 miles away and cost me 30 minutes of backtracking. I immediately began wailing, which sapped the last of my self-control. Even though we’ve already agreed that space is sometimes necessary, I still sent a message to my lover begging him to respond. I just really needed reassurance. We sent a few voice notes and a few texts, and he promised to contact me the next morning with a time to talk. I cried myself to sleep past my bedtime. 

Thursday - Don’t Go in Kneeling

Thursday afternoon, I was texting my homegirl saying I might skip NMF, but I had already hyped up the vibes for her to come with me and experience me as a festival girl. I told her we could watch everyone but maybe I wouldn’t perform. But I was still rehearsing a little too. My same friend who sent me the breakthrough message about people being portals, sent me a post about calling my power and energy back. He had no idea what was going on, he just has consistently impeccable spiritual timing. But I was so distraught that I couldn’t even read the message out loud. Like I didn’t have the energy to call the innerg, my godself, back; I was tapped. I began texting with another long distance lover and poet. He said we could call and I told him the whole story top to bottom. He gave me advice with so much less shade than normal (men get off on

hating on each other). I told him about the power-calling post, the studying I’ve done on dynamics of dominance and victimhood, and how his listening ear helped me feel capable again. He said that the victim role is “performative” when I do it. I know people feel that way about me even though I don’t feel that way about myself. He encouraged me and said “don’t go in [to tomorrow’s conversation with him] kneeling.” After our call, I said the “prayer” several times with conviction. And it’s cliche, but the innerg all came back to me in a rush. It was shockingly positive, affirmative, and easy - requiring nothing but my voice (2). 

Friday - Not Quitting is Enough

The next morning in my message to the lover, I told him that I was feeling better and more able to be a rational human when we spoke. I spent Friday rehearsing and assuming I’d be fine for NMF. He called at dinner time and we spoke for three hours. We went over the river and through the woods and even in my power I was frustrated and exhausted. But I texted my homegirl and told her that I know beyond the shadow of doubt, sometimes all we can do is not quit. And sometimes that has to be good enough. Then I took myself to see Sinners (the first time).

Saturday - Joy of Resistance

Saturday morning, I was exhausted and drained and I had a headache. I was meeting my homegirl and her kid at NMF with my kid for the family friendly part of the event prior to our show which was scheduled for 11pm. Y’all—I’m old. 11pm?! At night?! So, the lover called me that morning as I was headed out the door, wanting to clear some more air. We stayed on the phone another 3 hours. It was raining and dreary and the vendors weren’t on the streets, and the rides were closed. I felt terrible for dragging us all out to a rainy festival. But they said the Wicked showcase was great. And our brunch at Jam was good too. We went home for me to nap in between events of the day, and I

called Jabee to ask him about the set up and warn him that I truly might bail. I didn’t feel good and I didn’t feel confident, and I was sad and annoyed. And it was cold and raining. So Jabee said he understood whichever. I went to sleep and was out cold for 3 or more hours. I woke up ready to do what my poem said “make endless party anthems” and “be the joy of resistance…with pressure from all sides.”

I rehearsed in the car and it sounded great in the car. But it had sounded great on Wednesday and I screwed it up. I “prayed” something like “this is what I’m here to do. This is my gift; this is my lane. Brain and voice, show up when you’re needed.” I got hot tea for my scratchy throat, hugged my homies, chatted with a woman I think will become a friend, ideated with Jabee….. and my poem came out damn. near. perfect! Way better than usual, and nowhere near what I expected. I was basically in

shock and Jabee didn’t believe me that I thought it would be bad. I got footage from long time friend THE Torrey Purvey. Watching a miracle happen in real time and pretending it’s normal: I think that’s a very Manifestor thing.

EastCoastPoet said playing small is performative. I’m still reflecting on how I learned to perform so well, I started believing the act myself. 

Footnote:

1) lover - someone who shows you love and affection; the implication is erotic not platonic although not contingent on an ongoing sexual relationship. This particular lover told me that night "just because we haven't had sex doesn't mean we aren't lovers."

2) in Human Design, only Manifestors (me) and Manifesting Generators have a motorized, or power-infused, throat center/chakra. Every piece of advice written for us says to take advantage of our voice.