By Aubrey Cowley
The end of January always seems to be a difficult time for me. It’s the end of the beginning, if you’ll excuse the melodramatic phrasing. It’s still early in the year, but at the same time, there’s the expectation that you should be used to saying “2019” instead of “2018” by now. Late January is like looking at a glass of water after you’ve taken two or three sips; you know there’s still plenty left, but you know that it’s not quite as full as it could be.
Maybe late January is a great time for everyone else, but when I showed up for the Glass Mountain reading at Bohemeo’s on January 29th, I was filled with all kinds of those morose water-based abstractions. And listen, I’m not going to try to tell you that these reading events can cure you of your existential angst, but – let’s just say they won’t hurt.
The first of our three featured readers, Matt Flores, treated us to some poetry. Matt is an undergrad and Mellon scholar at UH, and interested in “South Texas border history, utopian futurity, and cats,” in his own words. He shared some truly stunning work with us, and if it’s anything to go by, his upcoming chapbook will be a powerful read.
Next, we heard from Musi Trappe, a 2017 UH Creative Writing program graduate. Musi read us a fantastical piece about a “child of the woods” progressing through the changes of life. As a speculative fiction fan, I was hooked. I’ve already got her two books, Serum and House of Halleck, on my Goodreads to-read shelf.
Michelle Burk finished our featured reader lineup. She’s currently a third-year PhD Fellow in UH’s Literature and Creative Writing program, having received her MFA in Poetry from Columbia University. Michelle’s poems were lovely to hear, filled with evocative imagery. She is currently working on a project centered around the idea of “not being the leading lady,” which I look forward to reading.
After a quick break, the second half of the night began: open mic. I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that I’ve never seen such a wide variety of styles and material before. Sestinas were followed by raps, which were followed by pieces of short fiction. Every time someone came up to the mic to say, “This is my first time reading,” applause and whooping erupted like clockwork. The open mics at Glass Mountain readings invite experimentation and risk. First drafts are as welcome as published pieces.
It was still the end of the beginning when the night was over, but I didn’t have the same melancholic view of my water glass analogy when I went home. These talented writers, poets, and performers reminded me that there’s so much left to do, try, and share.
If you want to try your luck at experiencing a similar life-changing event, I have good news for you: the next Glass Mountain reading is coming up on February 26th at 7 p.m., again at Bohemeo’s! If you want to hear some wonderful work, and maybe read some wonderful work of your own, we’d love to see you there.
