Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show \"Living in a Big World\", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5\" x 11\" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60\" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5\" x 11\" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this \"drawn\" TV.Artwork included in the projected \"television\" display included:\nThe Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome,the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says \"alto\"),Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.These are the writing included in the live show:\n\nthe poem: Paranoia\n\nwe sit here at dinner.\nI try to breathe.\nMy hands rest on my thighs.\nI must watch to be sure,\neverything must be right:\nthe silverware, small fork,\nlarge fork, plate, knife,\nlarge spoon, small spoon.\nWater glass. Wine glass.\n\nIknow no one else sees them:\nthe fish, the red fish, in\nthe curtains along the wall.\nYou have to watch them.\nMy eyes always glance there.\n\nThey are evil fish. They sit\nin the curtains, they wait,\nand then they come out.\n\nAnd the yogurt, the yogurt\nis the only thing that can\nsave me from them. throw\nthe yogurt, take a spoon,\nuse your hands. Anything.\n\nAnd we sat there before\ndinner, and he ate his\nyogurt with his first spoon\nbefore I could stop him.\n\nHow could you do this? How\ncan you save yourself now? \nWill I have to save you again,\ndo you even understand\nthe danger\n\n—\n\nthe prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing\n\nI try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes&Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I\'m actually getting through to anyone.I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means \"man who talks loud... say nothing.\"\n\nEx-eh-ba-che.\n\"Man who talks loud... say nothing.\"\n\nOh, what am I saying, I\'ve been around the world, but I\'ve never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don\'t even know if \"Ex-eh-ba-che\" is a real word or means anything.\n\nBut... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there\'s got to be something worth watching. Maybe I\'ll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what\'s out there in the world.\n\n—\n\nthe poem: Fighting I Can Do\n\nI know these are normal things\nfor me to be going through\n\nI know that I have been raped\n and beaten\nI know they\'ve tried to kill me\nand lucky me, I survived\n\nI think I can survive\neverything they throw at me\n\nBut as time wears on\nlittle pieces of this statue are chipped away\neverybody wants something, right?\nwell, they\'ve been taking from me\n and taking\n and taking\n and taking\nand my defenses are getting weaker\nand I don\'t know how much more\nfighting\n I can do\n\n—\n\nthe poem: I Want\n\nyou know what I want?\n\ni want a big house with filtered central air\nand i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature\n\nand i want a big fence so i\'ll know what\'s mine\n\nand i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little\nballs, because it has to look neat. plant everything\nin a row.\n\nand i want to spray chemicals on my lawn\nto keep the dandelions away\n\nand i want a plastic lobster bib\nover my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant\n\nand don\'t forget the hundred dollar champagne\n\nand i want a big fat car, and i want\nsomeoneelse to drive it\n\nand i want the two kids, one boy, one girl\nand i want a nanny to take care of them for me\n\ni want to be famous\ni want everyone to love me\n\ni want it\ni want it all\n\n—\n\nthe prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs\n\nWe lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -Now, I know I\'m tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severea history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.\n\nAnd recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person\'s body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking outat the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.\n\nAnd it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.\n\nAh, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.\n\n—\n\nthe poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He\'s Seen\n\nAs a cop, I remember one lady, \nwe found her in her bathtub, \nshe cut her throat. That\'s odd, \nfor women,normally they take pills, \nthey don\'t like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was\ndoing, cutting her throat in a full bath.\nLess messy that way. Autopsy said\nshe was full of barbiturates. She was\na nurse, that explained how she knew\nhow to do it, but then we found out\nthat she was pregnant, too. And to top\nit off, her brother was a priest.\n\n—\n\nthe prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem \"Communication \'05\" in it)\n\nOh, I\'m sorry. I was listening to my iPod.\nOh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. \n\nYou know,I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it\'s brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I\'ve even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. \nBut in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actuallymeeting and working with people.\n\nI mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most\nlived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.\nin fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,\non the same street as me, but\ni still emailed her as much as i\'d call her,\neven though i could just walk over to her house\nand have an actual conversation with her.\n\nAnd even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you\'ll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can\'t tell you how many times I\'ve wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn\'t even be there with them.\n\nI mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you\'ve apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it\'s overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn\'t fit in with what we want to believe.—\n\nthe poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes\n\ni heard a story today\nabout a little boy\none of many who was enslaved\nby his country\nin child labor\n\nin this case\nhe was working\nfor a carpet factory\n\nhe managed to escape\nhe told his story\nto the world\nhe was a hero at ten\n\nbut the people from the factory\nheld a grudge\nand today i heard\nthat the little boy\nwas shot and killed\non the street\nhe was twelve\n\nand then people complain to me\nwhen i buy shoes\nthat are made in china\n\nnow i have to think\ndid somebody\nhave to die for these\n\nwill somebody have to die\nfor these\n\n—\n\nthe prose: Differences in China: children&trainsChildren in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren\'t even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they\'re little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).\n\nBut on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like\"America\'s Funniest Home Videos.\" Well, I couldn\'t understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn\'t help but watch, and you couldn\'t help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you\'re on a public train, like when you\'re on your way to work every morning on the el.\n\n—\n\nthe poem: Private Lives 2005\n\nsitting on the el train\ni saw a middle-eastern man\nsitting across from me\nholding a large Zip-Loc bag\nof some sort of food paste,\ni couldn\'t tell,\nit looked like some sort of\ncurry-filled food paste\n\nand the man looked unhappy,\nand after a few minutes\ni saw him open up\nthe Zip-Loc bag,\nthrow up into it,\nthen close the bag again\n\nso, he was carrying\nhis vomit with him\non the el\n\nat least he had a bag\nhe could seal it up with\n\n—\n\nthe prose: Passport To Outer Space \n\nAnd a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I\'ve tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...\nI\'ve searched for these stories around the world, I\'ve gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad\'s who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently boughtand had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. \nBut Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don\'s father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn\'t money that was valid anywhere, but it\'s illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way,the way they might have potentially done.\nNow, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there\'s no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you\'re up high in the Earth\'s atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, withsnow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It\'s only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.—\n\nparts of the poem: In The Air\n\nChicago looks grand from the sky\nwith this huge expanse of lake\nnext to it, like civilization crept up\nas far as it could but finally had to stop.\nThe power of nature stopping the power\nof mankind... Daylight, and the snow \non the ground in the winter time looks dirty, \ntoo many cars have splashed mud on it as they\ndrove by. And in the winter the sky \nalways matches the shade of grey of the snow: \nfitting for the city of the Blues. \nMaybe the snow is already\nthat color, that perfect shade of grey,\nwhen it falls from the sky in this city.\n\nWhen I\'m in theair, I like to look\nout the window. Clouds look like\ncotton balls when you\'re above them,\nand when you\'re landing cars look like\nlittle ants, on a mission, bringing food\nback to their hill. And the\nstreets look like veins, capillaries in some\nmassive, monstrous body. And the\nfarmlands look like little squares of colors.\nI wonder why each plot of land is a\ndifferent color, what\'s growing there\nthat makes them different. Or maybe it\'s\nthat some of them are turning shades of red\nand brown because they are dying.\n\nAnd it always seems on a plane that you\'re stuck\nsitting next to someone that is either\ntoo wide for their seat, or is a businessman\nwith his newspaper stretched out\nand his lap top computer on his little\nfold out table. Once, when I was on a\nflight back from D. C., a flight attendant\nwalked by, stack of magazines in her\nhand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,\nand I stopped her, askingwhat magazines\nshe had. And she replied, \"Oh, these\nmagazines are for men.\" This is a true\nstory. And I asked her again what she\nhad. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.\n\n—\n\nthe poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer\n\n\"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line\nfor the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight\nthis long, you know, it seemed the washrooms\nwere always on demand on a flight this long. So\nI finally got into the washroom, you know, and I\nlooked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle\nagainst a very healthy digestive system and left the\n\"spoils\" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn\'t want to go\ndown into the sewage tank where all the other\nwaste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine\nall the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?\nWell, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I\nwent to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and\nit still wouldn\'t budge, and so I opened the door and walked\nout into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this\nlong line of people waiting to use this cramped\nlittle washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,\n\'you know, I didn\'t do that.\' And then it occurred to me\nthat everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that\nplane, will think the exact same thing.\"\n\n—\n\nand the prose: Around the World,&sweet home ChicagoAnd you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, \"My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from.\" So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, \"I\'m from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago.\" And that\'s when this old man from the other side of the world said, \"oh... my kind of town.\" And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, \"Frank Sinatra sang that.\" and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.\nI talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us tonot feel small, but to grow larger than life.—\n\nFor more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. 17, 2004, art, big, chair, dreams, Janet, July, Kuypers, living, monitor, performance, poem, poetry, prose, reading, show, tv, video, world