Indigo

Gathering the threads of poetry, circus, costume and dance, Indigo is a versatile performer creating single and multi-art works. Most known for her spoken word-smithery she has performed her poetry in venues ranging from belly dance gatherings and open-mikes, to body-image forums and the iconic Sydney Opera House. She is the SA Winner of the Australian National Poetry Slam the last two years running (2008 and 2009), and came third in the National 2009 Final with the piece ‘Dam Betulim’. (See below)

She creates poetic performance pieces and installations inspired by her observations, experiences and grapples at understanding. Sharing her art is a means of communication; of creating space for those innate, often un-word-worthy, feelings to resonate. She writes because she must; she writes to claim her voice and resonate with it's communal echo. Her art appears on page, stage and street, so keep an eye out... www.myspace.com/identitypackage

dam betulim
(blood of virginity)


tear those name tag covers off the story

she's always me
and he's always you
always

she's always
five years old, blonde pigtails, short skirt, pinafore

he's always ... a big grey blur

she's always
green back lawns, polaroid smiles, playing hide and seek

he's always seeking ... narrowing in on the kill

she's always ...
stuffing screams into her pockets, pretty pink parcels, red velvet bed-head, dark room, hand over mouth, hand not hers

he's always
old velour couch breath

she's always gagging
something too solid for words

he's always
a crooked . loaded . gun

she's locked in position

he's whispering evil soundless into the ear
spraying lies like fire

she's always ... numb ... forgetting

he's pounding marks through heavy-layered canvases of memory

she's well finger-painted with forgetting

she's ...
stained, ruined ... eyes like doomed puppies can't save this

she is  Stained.   Ruined.   fucked, opened.    Unlidded.
... not even the pen that informs the song that writes itself
can erase
the spoils of scoundrel and drop sheet

what devil happens upon the dye in that weave?
squeezes colour from face onto sacrificial altar?

she ... is bloody bounty for a stolen prize
she is shadow; a trophy tarnished under silent layers of skin so as not to lose face
as well as
body


©Indigo

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