flying that doily flag at upcoming PechaKucha

In the next month you’re likely going to end up stuck at some fatuous seasonal gathering, wondering how soon you can bolt without appearing rude so you can go home and change into your antisocial cozy pants.

This is why I like PechaKuchas, lectures delivered in 20 slides that each flash by in 20 seconds. (Next!)

They’re fast-paced, a little risky, guaranteed to vibrate the ol’ grey matter and bring on some laughs (vital during these dank days).  You don’t feel like a knob if you go by yourself or arrive in your day uniform — whatever that is. In short, except for the alcohol and snacks, PechaKuchas are basically the opposite of most social events.

The participatory part isn’t for everyone, but when I saw the call to artists to participate at the Terry Fox Theatre in Port Coquitlam on Nov. 21, I decided to take up the challenge.

I’m bent on facing my fears these days and besides, I had a topic in mind that might answer one frequently asked question I get about my work: What’s the deal with the doilies? (Or the more polite: Are you still working with doilies?)

This isn’t my first PechaKucha — the onomatopoetic name for Japanese chit-chat — but I’m a serious neophyte, and that’s okay.

The beauty of PKNs (PechaKucha nights) is that it’s all okay, which likely explains why they’ve taken off around the world, in coffee houses and auditoriums, plazas and living rooms, with wide-ranging topics from biology to political movements, delivered by everyone from little kids to known political dissidents. 

My little drop in the PKN bucket addresses a crafty little topic with some tangles but it forces me to do a little more than just shrug and mumble something apologetic. 

It could be of particular interest to no one else but me, but my approach is: fly this freak flag; it will all be over in six and a half minutes.