The End of ANTIDOTE
John Chestnut Sr Park, Palm Harbor, FL
The Origins of ANTIDOTE
I find it fascinating where inspiration can come from and how it can become nearly all-consuming.
A couple weeks into the start of the pandemic, I fell asleep on my couch one evening. Just as I drifted off to sleep, the word “ANTIDOTE” blared into my liminal consciousness and demanded attention. I got the vibe that I needed to start doing things that could serve as an antidote to the stress and shock that everyone — including myself — was experiencing. ANTIDOTE took on many forms at first, but it ended up living strongest as poetry that documented the cracking open of my mind. The medium felt right for what I was trying to express, too: more fluid and flexible, less held to structure and imposed form.
Throughout the early part of my ANTIDOTE experience, I read three books that completely upended my relationship with the world around me. These books were Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, Always Coming Home by Ursula LeGuin, and Climate: A New Story by Charles Eisenstein. In many ways, the best of my ANTIDOTE poems featured me working through a journey of decolonization while truly waking up to the animacy of the more-than-human world. That framework continued throughout the first part of my digital nomad journey, but I haven’t written any poetry in over three months for a whole bunch of reasons. Somewhat sadly, the chapter of ANTIDOTE now feels closed.
Unsure of What Comes Next
Things began to shift in Richmond where I experienced some bonkers synchronicities that I’ve been trying to finish documenting for fucking months now. Doing so forced me to pivot to a change in style. Interestingly, poetry is apparently where I revere and honor the ecosystems and ecologies in which I find myself. The gods, it seems, engage with me in narrative prose. Everything fell apart a bit in Wilmington, and the lack of inspiration for poetry has continued now for a while.
Despite the lack of inspiration around poetry, all I’ve wanted to do is spend time being creative lately. I’ve made progress on the aforementioned synchronicities documentation, but I still have a ways to go. I’ve also been kicking around a few other creative projects in my head. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the time for any of them.
Thankfully, today brought some major inspiration in the form of a conversation on one of my favorite podcasts. I’ve listened to On Being with Krista Tippet for probably close to a decade now, and it’s great to have the show back after a season of pause. When the show is good, it is positively nourishing. This joyful conversation featured Ada Limón, the current poet laureate of the United States. It is a wonderful reflection on her recent work that was also inspired by the pandemic. Interestingly enough, one of my favorite poems from my ANTIDOTE project was inspired by Joy Harjo, the last poet laureate. And now, the current poet laureate has set me on a new path with a poetry-writing spree that consumed my entire afternoon. After having not written a single poem for over three months, today unexpectedly birthed four.
It’s been interesting to reflect on my relationship with poetry after such a shock of inspiration. Like a typical teenager, I tried my hand at angsty poetry way back in the day, though it was years after college before I’d try to write any again. Much later, I wrote a handful of poems that were interesting enough. I’ve always been very proud of one in particular from 2013. But it wasn’t until ANTIDOTE that I really took up writing poetry in earnest. In many ways, putting yourself out there as a poet feels particularly vulnerable. Being a bad writer is pathetic enough, but being a bad poet feels particularly heinous for some reason. Hopefully I’m not at completely awful as one!
I suppose the end of ANTIDOTE isn’t entirely sad. It seems like I’ve accomplished what the hypnogogic vision of antidote asked of me, and it now feels like time to move onto something else. In fact, it almost feels like I’m between album cycles. Since so much of my understanding of creativity centers around music, I’m treating what happened today as an EP of poems of sorts. Tragically, I don’t have anything better to call it than February 19 2023.
I have had the absolute worst experience with 2023 thus far, though, and I absolutely needed this brief spurt of creativity and inspiration. Short of some fantastic visits from family and friends, it has been rough as fuck lately. I’ve been walking around as a giant ball of stress with a pit in my stomach. I felt a little better working through this blog post, but of course the kicks to the gut continued in the middle of it, and I’m back to feeling like crap again.
Regardless, though, I think it’s time to bring more poetry into my life. I’ll be starting with purchasing Ada Limón’s most recent work since the poems she read in the podcast interview led to a wonderful spark for me. I hope you take the time to listen, and maybe they will for you, too.