Last week, Danika, Christy and I attended the AWP Conference in Denver, CO.
AWP = Association of Writers and Writing Programs. Which is to say, people who teach writing of all kinds: rhetoric, how to write poetry, fiction. Or, in other words, people who have MFAs or PhDs in things like folklore and rhetoric and, well: writing.
But what you really need to know is this: at AWP, there are poets, and poets dress like they are ready to attend the Apocalypse. So much, that it makes me wonder if the Apocalypse is actually going to arrive in the form of a poetry reading. Or a conference of writers and those who teach writing. Essentially, AWP is one great big, three-day poetry reading (peppered with panels that might, say, discuss technology in the classroom), to the point where the A in AWP could, if we use this logic, stand for Apocalyptic.
I really wanted to get a shot of the poets, a la this video of the Midwinter ALA Conference (made by Nick!) but it just didn’t happen.
So, we will have to settle from these photos, which I found on the Internets.
First off… Michael Chabon was the keynote. I didn’t go to that event. But I would just like to say that I would be very happy to attend any Apocalypse Michael Chabon happens to be attending.
So, typically, we think of poets as folks who wear a lot of black. Like these people:
And you would be right.
But, poets also do the whole boots-and-skirt thing. Kind of like this:
Boy poets are not immune to dressing for the apocalypse, either. A lot of boy poets wore thrifted western shirts and were always connected to their iPods, like this guy, who is rocking the Apocalyptic Boy Poet look by also wearing his “vintage” glasses:
All of this made me think about that whole thing Andy Warhol said… about how you might be walking down the street, and you see somebody who looks the way you perceive yourself to be. You want that person to be able to identify you as one-of-them, so you decorate yourself in the same way. I think there’s a lot of that going on here.