Do you get this or do I have to explain it in slam poetry?

I'm writing a play called "The Feast of Jovi Bono." It's a 21st century retelling of the life story of Maria Giovanna Bonomo, a saint from the 1700s who asked the question, "Does it seem right that we should give the worst to the poor?" And made fabulous feasts for the poor and lost who came to her door.

These economic times will redefine many of us in lifestyle, but I'm here to tell you that the size of a bank account or the job you do for money does not define you in class, does not define the content of your character, the size of your heart or the scope of your generosity.

We can all continue to feast, but instead of a giant roast with all the fixings in our own homes, we may be required to step out together to experience new food prepared in new ways and feast together on what we can collectively contribute. If we want to regrow the local economy, let's try eating local food together.

My daughter, Caitlyn, issued me a challenge on October 1, 2008 to have my first play in my saints series on stage by September 30, 2009. At the time, that seemed so far away. Now that we're entering the third month of 2009 and the halfway point looms, I admit to a bit of panic.

When I'm not experiencing painful depression, I'm usually on the verge of an intelligent thought. I grab ideas from here and there -- my play, interdependent communities, sustaining local economy, my dream of living on artist grants and spending my life creating, the huge role my faith plays in it all, and some recent bad news that makes it all the more urgent -- and I know, just KNOW that it all fits together somehow.

Are you with me? Do you live your life in the verge of an amazing idea that could actually become reality?

How do you push it over the edge?

I came up with a new performance art idea for my Jovi Bono concept from reading about yet another artist grant and wondering how all of my ideas could come together on the stage. The Black Rock Arts grant is for interactive, community arts projects.

In my play, "The Feast of Jovi Bono," people who are poor, lost, or just drifting along, come to Jovi's door and she feeds them fabulous feasts in her modest home. Her small kitchen table that normally just seats Jovi and her teenaged daughter, Adrian, expands across the stage, creating enough space for everyone at the table. Each of the guests who comes to the table tells his or her story in slam poetry/spoken word art, so that each has a solo performance within the larger play -- each actor, each character has a moment to shine while still a part of the greater story.

After all, in the story of life, each of us is a part of the story and I believe in each lifetime there's a chance to stand up and perform in a way that will have an impact on the larger community.

Will you imagine with me for a moment? Imagine the old middle school stage with a table set up. It's a modular table where new pieces can be brought in at the ends to seat more and more guests. On stage is everyone with a story to tell that will add to the collective knowledge, spirit, faith, and good of the entire party. Fabulously prepared food from local growers and chefs is brought in and after expressing thanks, this party of strangers starts telling their stories and becomes friends and part of each other's story.

The audience is also there to hear the stories and feast on finger food versions of some of the same fabulous, fresh local food.

Local musicians provide a beautiful ambience and local plants and flowers decorate the space.

Anyone who wants to be at the table can come up and space and chairs is created for them. Anyone who is ready to move on can move and make room for others, and the only rule is that you become part of the continuing, sustaining, amazing story. You don't have to be a poetry slammer to tell your story. You can draw a picture to show us, sing a song, share something you've read, or just share something from your life.

I see it as a piece of art that expresses the interdependence of us all. If I have been in any way subtle in my previous posts, let me say it now: in this economic turbulence, we cannot stay home and mind our own business. I know it's a step out. I've long considered myself the president of Mind Your Own Business. Rugged individualism won't work in our century. Working, talking, envisioning and sustaining each other is the only thing that will get us through this and find us as stronger, more impactful people on the other side.

If I got my way, the interactive event wouldn't require money. I envision a nominal admission price that could be offset or replaced with donations of food for the church food pantries or documentation of hours of volunteer work in the community.

The money we did collect would be distributed to local organizations that help those in need -- not just Upper Des Moines and the churches but the Fuller Center for Housing -- Iowa Lakes and even the arts organizations, who help us create out of chaos and give us something new to focus on in these depressing times.

Outside the auditorium, there would be tables set up not only with more snacks of fresh, local food, but one large table to sign up for a community barter system and get your initial community credits. For more information on the barter, see my January 29 post.

If our money is gone, then it is necessary and vital to put our trust in something else -- something bigger. We have to trust God and each other.

Each one of us is a piece of the story, no matter what our mess. Whatever your story is right now, I am convinced it is a vital part of something much bigger than yourself. The only way to find out is to become a part of something bigger in your community.

Come and feast. Bring your story.

Details to follow.