welcome to hello human.
I’m Terri also known as tokyoterri on social media.
what is this podcast going to be about?
I'm going to explore 3 questions about creativity:
how does creativity fit into every day life?
how to maintain creative consistency?
and who and are great creative inspirations?
In some shows I’ll offer my own answer to these questions.
In some shows, I'll interview creators I admire so we can all learn from them.
Now, there are a ton of creative podcasts out there, and kudos to each and every one. The thing I think that sets this one apart is that there aren't that many Black American punk hippie scholar poet women in their 60's doing podcasts about creativity. Especially not native new yorkers who've lived in Tokyo for decades. So yeah, the USP in this project is me.
In this second show, I'm going to introduce one of my favorite resources. It's my local writing group, The Tokyo Writer's Salon. it's the brainchild of my best friend, Lauren.
She has been running it for years, through super thick and razor thin.
I call it a key resource for three reasons:
you get to read and listen to small stories based on quick prompts
- Lauren's one rule is: no apologies or prefaces: we're all on the same page, so just read your thing
you get excellent, positive feedback: everyone chooses phrases they resonate with
If you're looking for a writer's group or want to start one, these are great guidelines to consider, even with all the social distance we're doing these days.
In this podcast, I'll read my tiny story from a recent Salon, based on the prompt:
you stayed too long
I know the bullets breaking the window were a sign, if not from god,
then let's just say the universe. I was cowering in the corner of the needlessly opulent bedroom, in the devastation of the projects in my crazier cousins part of the South Bronx.
I say cowering, but it was more like a u-shape, because I was trying to protect the infant child of my very sketchy then-boyfriend, who had just gotten out of prison for something heinous done in service of his day job, as warleader of the Black Spades.
The baby wasn't mine.
The bedroom wasn't mine.
The bullets werentmeant for me, but they were probably meant for him or his associates.
He was a project I took on, not to actually be bad, but to see bad and understand how to, I don't know, avoid it?
I'm not sure - it was too long ago for me to remember my hormone + curiosity-fueled motivations.
But the bullet situation was a bridge too far.
Like many dopey teens, I just knew I was bulletproof, right up until that moment.
I didn't want a baby ever, but I also didn't want this baby to get hurt.
The incongruity of me, raised to be a magic child, stuck in this stupid situation, finally hit me.
Now, my better senses had been tapping on my overloaded mind for a few months, especially after my first and only visit to the prison where he was held.
All in all, I had overstayed my welcome in sampling this exciting, frightening, ridiculous world, and it was time to search for an adventure I could control.
I want to thank the Tokyo Writer's Salon, and encourage you to join a group,
even a small one one you can only meet with by video. I've found that the camaraderie and feedback gives my creativity a huge boost.
I'm going to sign off with an easy way to get in touch with me and my creative projects: it's one link to rule them all: linktr.ee/tokyoterri
Till next week
stay safe and make something!
The Tokyo Writer's Salon