Showing posts with label Alien Buddha Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alien Buddha Press. Show all posts

Thursday, April 27, 2023

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Meghan Kemp-Gee

Meghan Kemp-Gee's debut full-length poetry collection The Animal in the Room is forthcoming from Coach House Books in May 2023. She is also the author of two chapbooks (What I Meant to Ask and The Bones & Eggs & Beets) and co-creator of Contested Strip, the world’s best comic about ultimate frisbee (and soon to be a graphic novel).

1 - How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

Obviously, we poets have to be good at spending a lot of time and energy on our work with very little external validation. I've been so fortunate to have a few big successful milestones recently, including getting into an awesome poetry PhD program and my first book getting accepted for publication at a wonderful publisher. And to be honest, that external validation does work on me! It makes me feel like I KNOW what I'm doing, instead of just hoping I know.

So I feel like my work these days is more self-assured and ambitious. I don't know where that confidence boost is going to take me. We'll see.

More than anything, it means everything to me that other people are actually reading what I write and spending time with my work. That's why I write. It means everything.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or nonfiction?


The mediums I work in most often are poetry, comics, and screenwriting. I'm not sure exactly why, but it's very rare that I have an idea I want to explore through prose more than I want to explore it through a poem or a scene or a comic. The reasons for that are completely mysterious to me, because I really enjoy reading fiction and nonfiction! I just rarely have an impulse towards creating it.
 
3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

I am a pretty fast, hard writer once I get going! I fear and admire poets who carefully revise and slowly edit over months and months, but I don't work like that!

Whether we're talking about a single poem or a giant project, something tends to blindside me out of nowhere and whine at me until it gets finished. Whatever "it" is, it comes and looks for you. I'm a big believer that if a poem is talking to you, it needs to be written right away, as much as you can. It might not get finished that day, but I'm always grateful when I follow that voice or that whine.

Once I've drafted a poem, I often revise it as many times as I need to, once or twice or twenty times, within the first day or two. I don't need to finish it, but I need to finish it as much as I can. A few of my poems, about 10 percent, get stuck in the early stages, and those are the ones you just put away and wait until you know what to do with them, weeks or years later.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

I used to be a very poem-focused poet. I liked the idea of the self-contained unit, the little room -- neat and tidy and a world of its own.

I still like thinking about my poems like that! But ever since I finished writing Animal in the Room I've been increasingly interested in what I could do with sequences and interconnected series of poems, including my chapbooks and full-length book projects. Right now, I love playing with repetition, because it creates alternative realities, rhizomes, new connections. I'm fascinated by those branches, tensions, links, and ligaments between pages. In comics theory, they talk about "hyperlinks" or "arthrology" -- the study of connections between and across texts.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I don't have a huge amount of experience with readings yet, but I do enjoy them! I want to do more! I put a lot of care into how my work sounds, because I hope some readers will want to read the poems out loud.

I also really love the experience of reading with other poets and writers, firstly because I like meeting them, and also because of those wonderful, unexpected connections between poems that often spring up at public readings. I love those!

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

Sometimes I'm concerned that I'm not intentional enough in formulating a theoretical framework for what I'm writing. My process is very form-based -- I like to pick one or more patterns or formal features and just see where they take me. Let the poem go where it wants to go.

But I also recognize that that's just a process, not a theory. If you write like me, one of the things you have to be concerned about, and responsible about, is that a form-first process doesn't absolve you of your authorship. You're still responsible for what the poem does.

So basically, my theoretical concerns, my process, and my questions all have to do with the same kind of thing: how meaning and structure work together, and create each other, again and again and every time we write. And every time we read, or try to understand the physical world, that's also what's happening: meaning versus structure. I guess Meaning/Structure and Theory/Practice map onto each other, to a certain extent.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I think there are many necessary roles for all kinds of writers and artists in our culture. Personally, I think of myself as doing a craft -- my job is to create things that are useful or interesting or pleasing to someone. There's a good Dylan Thomas quote that says that a poem is a contribution to reality. I like to think about my work like that.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?


Last summer I had the great honor of working with Coach House, and with Susan Holbrook to edit my poetry manuscript. I was really thrilled when my book was accepted for publication, but I'll never forget talking to Susan on the phone for the first time. She immediately summarized the whole book in this perfect, insightful, intellectual way, better than I ever could have. I was floored. I think it was the first moment in my life when I felt someone had really understood my work -- not just what an individual poem might mean, but my intentions, and everything I was trying to do on a larger scale. I'm so grateful to her for that moment. I'll never forget it.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?


When I met Phoebe Wang at UNB in 2021 she gave me some wonderful advice: to be patient. She told me that I could write quickly and impatiently, but then I had to be very patient about publishing, career, and everything that comes after. I'm not a patient writer, but I think that was good advice!

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to collaborating on a graphic novel)? What do you see as the appeal?


People have told me they find this weird, but it's always easy and fun for me to move between genres! I enjoy the variety: comics, poetry, screen. They're all very different in terms of skills, audience, collaboration, everything. But the more I work in multiple genres, the more I discover all these interesting connections and transferable skills & techniques. Anyway, the main appeal to me is that I'm just following my creative interests, and following opportunities to work with artists and projects I like.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I would like to have a regular schedule, but between studying, teaching, writing, and sports, every day is a bit different! On my ideal day, I go to the gym first thing in the morning, then have two or three big blocks of serious work time after that. But the ideal day isn't a real day, is it?

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

I don't usually feel stalled. But I find I'm most productive and pleased with myself when I'm writing towards a project. I like that feeling of a target, where every little scrap of an idea or line seems pointed towards a larger thing.

If I'm not currently working on a project, I invent one, like writing a sonnet just because, or writing about the last TV show I watched, or whatever. If I'm really stuck, I just do some editing of my own poems, or just read someone else's poems. That always does the trick.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

My partner James is a brilliant baker! A pot of coffee brewing and something baking in the oven are the ultimate home-y smell for me.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

Movies, nature, and visual art are huge influences and frequent topics in my poems! Recently I'm experimenting with poems about sports and athletes, which is a new and unfamiliar influence.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

This is such a difficult question because there are too many to narrow it down! I'm just going to throw out four writers who are at the tip of my tongue today because I've re-read them recently: Louise Gluck, Jack Kirby, James Baldwin, Gord Downie, Joy Harjo.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

In poetry, one of my dreams is to work collaboratively with visual artists or musicians! I'd love to publish a poetry-comic hybrid text, or to write words for songs, operas, or live performances.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I've often considered becoming a yoga teacher! Maybe I'll still do that at some point?

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

Like a lot of us, I think I do this because I wouldn't be completely satisfied doing something else. Or at least I wouldn't be completely satisfied. I enjoy a lot of different types of work. Teaching makes me happy. Coaching sports and playing sports does too. I enjoyed working on movies and doing script consulting. But ultimately I think I need to write. Like your question says, something made me write.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

Book: Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

Film: Fire of Love

20 - What are you currently working on?

I am right on the exhilarating cusp between two big poetry projects!

I just hit "send" on a manuscript called Nebulas, which is about space, strawberries, and Walt Whitman. I think it's the best work that I've ever done and I can't wait to share it with everyone.

My next big thing is a series of lyric poems about dead and injured athletes. I don't want to say too much because it's still taking its shape! It's cooking!

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Saturday, December 31, 2022

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Sam Szanto

Sam Szanto lives in Durham, UK. Her debut short story collection If No One Speaks was published by Alien Buddha Press in 2022. Over 50 of her stories and poems have been published/ listed in competitions. As well as her many published stories, in April 2022 she won the Shooter Flash Fiction Contest, was placed second in the 2022 Writer’s Mastermind Short Story Contest, third in the 2021 Erewash Open Competition, second in the 2019 Doris Gooderson Competition and was also a winner in the 2020 Literary Taxidermy Competition. Her short story collection Courage was a finalist in the 2021 St Lawrence Book Awards. She won the 2020 Charroux Prize for Poetry and the First Writers International Poetry Prize, and her poetry has appeared in a number of literary journals including The North. Find her on Twitter: @sam_szanto

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
All my work has always been different - you'll be able to tell from reading my current story collection 'If No One Speaks' that all my stories feel very different and are about very different people, as well as being located all over the world. One reviewer said it was amazing that all the stories had been written by the same person - I believe that was meant as a compliment!

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I came to novel writing first, but I've written poems for a long time too. Short stories came a little later.
 
3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
I do everything fast, from speaking to walking to writing. Sometimes I'll leave a poem or story and come back to it with a slightly different idea that improves it immeasurably, sometimes things come fully formed. The MA in Writing Poetry course I'm currently taking has helped me work on shaping poems though, as rewriting is part of the craft we're learning.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
Definitely the former, the stories have to find their own ways of threading together.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I don't enjoy speaking in public, but it's something I want to get better at. I've put myself forward for a live Twitter reading that my publisher has organised in a few weeks' time so will see how that goes! I'm happy to pre-record a reading though - it's the live speaking rather than the being watched that makes me nervous!
 
6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?
I don't write to answer questions, but I usually do realise what I've actually written about once I've finished a story - I've written quite a few stories that I thought were just about relationships that I realised later were about grief.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
I think writing has many purposes. We are teachers, we are entertainers, we are role models. But what I do always think of when I consider this type of question is a comment a novelist once made to me, which is that most people only read books in bed (before they go to sleep) or in the bath. We all think our writing is terribly important and impactful, and sometimes it is, but I try not to forget that really people just want to hear a story, just as my little children do before they go to bed, just as people have always done.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I actually work in a freelance capacity as a copy-editor so see it from the other side - a lot of the time, people ignore my brilliant suggestions and just do what they want to do. I pretty much accept whatever an editor says to me, though - they're the reader, after all, the person I'm doing this for. Once I've finished writing a story and given it to an audience, it's not really mine. However, I have felt a bit patronised occasionally! This has never happened with poetry, actually, only short stories (but not often).

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Pretty much everything Ernest Hemingway had to say about writing. I love his advice to omit what you feel is the last part of the story to leave the reader wanting more.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to short stories)? What do you see as the appeal?
Easy, and necessary. Writing in the one genre constricts me if I do it all the time. Sometimes an idea just works as a poem but not as a story, or vice versa. It happened to me recently that I retold a piece of flash fiction as a prose poem and it worked to great acclaim.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
I don't really have one, as I have young kids who have to take priority, plus occasional freelance work. I write when the kids are at school and as much as possible at all other times.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Other people's writing.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Fresh paint at the moment!

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
Music, yes. Transport, too, I get a lot of creativity from journeys. People, though, are my main influences: their conversations, their mannerisms, their jobs, everything about them.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
So many! Tessa Hadley, Curtis Sittenfeld, Kate Atkinson, Rose Tremain, Simon Armitage, Carol Ann Duffy, Moniza Alvi, Rebecca Goss, my writing tutors and the other writers I know...

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Have a novel and a poetry book published, travel to Japan/Canada/New Zealand, help my children to grow up happy (hopefully this will happen!)

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I've done many things... worked in marketing for a blind charity, a school and an engineering corporation; sold ice cream and shoes. I still do freelance as a copy-editor and an English tutor so would still be doing that (more often) if I didn't also write.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I had to write. There was never another goal.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I loved Rodham by Curtis Sittenfeld. I'm not that into films, really - I was obsessed with The Doors film as a teenager, though. On TV, I currently love Mad Men.

20 - What are you currently working on?
A novel that wants to be a thriller but we'll see... I'm about to start the second year of my MA in Writing Poetry, though, so will be writing a lot of poetry pretty soon!

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Greg Bem

Greg Bem is a poet and librarian currently living in Seattle, Washington, USA. His recent books are Of Spray and Mist (Hand to Mouth, 2021) and Green Axes (Alien Buddha, 2021). He works extensively in audio, video, and GIF formats.

1 - How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

My first chapbook came out in 2009. ANTE was published by _Catch/Confetti Press in Philadelphia. It seems like ages ago and I'm not sure how much it changes my life back then or now, but I think that all the projects in one's life, big and small, add up. It certainly boosted my confidence to continue connecting with my work and external voices. It also initiated a framing of poetry as longer objects, sequences, and I don't think I've stopped approaching poetry in that way. My recent work, published in Of Spray and Mist and Green Axes, is probably less experimental in tone and content than the former book. My approaches to textual poetry over the last decade have shifted significantly. When I moved to Seattle in 2010, I was determined to explore performance, installation, and multimedia approaches to my work in ways that Philadelphia established . . . after a lot of shifts around 2016 due to changes in myself and the community at large, my work moved inward and a lot of the noise of superficial (often visual) experimentation went with it.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

I've always loved reading prose and read far more fiction in my youngest years than poetry or experimental writing. In high school I hated backpacks and wore incredibly long jeans (they were in style in the mid-90s). I loved this small notebook that I could fit in the pockets and take out on a whim. I remember in middle school and high school writing furiously in that small notebook, and often the form that fit best was a sonnet. I wrote dozens and dozens (if not hundreds) of rhyming sonnets, mostly about my adolescent struggles. I think the immediacy and the adaptability of poetry, its flexibility to one's lived contexts, always attracted me.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

In my mid-20s when I was the most productive (that is, I had the most output as a writer), projects seemed to come about every day. I always set aside time in my day to sit down and write poems, and they usually were a handful all related to a specific topic or theme, or some specific form. Now things are a bit slower, even being just ten years older. I suppose that's typical? I think there's a lot of distractions now thanks to professional stability and established communication technology. The writing still can come quick, if I end up finding interest. First drafts, with poetry, are almost entirely the same as the final drafts--I tend to do small chiseling here and there after a poem has been initially written. It's always been that way. I feel like I'm bastardizing a work if I change it significantly from its original iteration--spoiling the soul of it, so to speak. And notes? I'm not much of a note-taker, though I do use an app to capture some lines and links from my travels, which I refer to later.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

I'm not sure I have an answer to this one that fits neatly. The poems begin both small and large at the same time. I have done a few projects recently that were intentionally aiming towards book-length collections. I wrote a series of 7 "books" titled CONSTRUCTION, which was based entirely on a building constructed across the street from an apartment building. I imposed a constraint to write those books and didn't stop until I was finished. Most of the time, however, I have several small sequences that match up and fit into something larger. Of Spray and Mist is that way. Green Axes is that way. My latest chapbooks are that way. The curatorial nature behind it all is fascinating to me, too. Ultimately the poems determine their fate for themselves, but it's upon some deeper reflection that I have to make more challenging choices about what stays and what goes, and that's where things become "poems" in that they are turned into these polished, produced objects, be they the individual pieces or the longer works.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

Everywhere I've lived (Maine, Rhode Island, Philadelphia, Seattle, Phnom Penh), I've not only participated in readings but I have helped create readings, both one-offs and series, and I've found the opportunities of community and collaboration powerful in such organizing. But in the last few years, pre-COVID and during, I've found events to be unfulfilling. I do think I took them for granted when I participated in them formerly, and I do think there is a lot of merit to them, but I am in a new space now when it comes to readings. I believe my shift away from performative aspects of poetry and the public "ego" of poetry has contributed to my lack of interest, lately, in readings.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

Things are always shifting and my primary concern is stay on top of what my priorities are! The past several years have been eye-opening for me, especially considering those identity qualities that align with/equate with my privileges. Being white, being male, being able-bodied, being heterosexual--these qualities never were a concern with my poetry because of the unfortunate color-blind upbringing and early adulthood I experienced. Now I'm exploring who I am in this sense and how poetry contributes, serves, or doesn't, when it comes to equity, justice, and community. I think about similar issues the globe is facing: climate justice, protecting indigenous knowledge, spaces of education and knowledge-sharing. Before, everything and anything was poetic and could be poetry, and carried significant weight. Now I measure more carefully, think about the effects of my actions, and do a lot more listening and reading to peers much wiser than me. From the outside emerges those questions, which I try desperately to receive and meditate through. Ideally the writing and creative acts I undergo are impacted and I'm participating in a healthy way.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I've never ascribed to the "writer" as a separate category of person. I believe all folks have the writer inside them. Their world may or may not unlock their writerly self, but it's there for all of us. I believe writing can save us--it is psychedelic, it is the imagination exploded. And in some ways there's more opportunity than ever before, for more people, to write. And in some ways, it seems like those mentioned distractions can keep folks from unlocking their writing.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

It's been a process to learn to be respectful and humble when it comes to the editing process. There's much to learn from those who have an expert eye. I believe that writing book reviews has helped me learn to be better with editing and collaborating with others. I don't believe an editor is essential; I don't believe editing is essential, for that matter. But it does do a lot, and it is an opportunity that should not be squandered/wasted should it arise.

9 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

I'm deep in The Uninhabitable Earth by climate writer David Wallace-Wells, who writes of the many changes we'll face with warming that has already happened and that cannot be prevented. It's a brutal, grim book that, even at 2 years old, brings out the most harrowing imagery of humanity's effects on the planet and where our survival is being and will continue to be threatened. For films, I found Concrete Cowboy a nice examination of the Black-owned stables in North Philadelphia. I'm not sure if I'd label it "great," but it has painted a picture most people, including those in Philadelphia, haven't seen.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to performance works to critical prose)? What do you see as the appeal?

Throw a few more on there--creating weird audio music, digital videos, short GIF animations. I move around acrobatically, or maniacally, or both. The appeal is rooted in the pseudo "Renaissance Man" world of the Dadaists, who I loved in college, who have never seemed to me to be concerned about exclusivity in form or genre. The world is available to serve as a canvas, and why not be all about everything? On a more practical note, I tend to get bored with specific activities frequently, and find myself moving between genres, mediums, forms to keep myself engaged.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I used to write automatically almost every day, without any formalities (it just happened). As I get older and have more stress from work, more projects, more volunteering, etc etc, I tend to need more routine. One night a week I devote to creativity, to make sure I don't slip. I also try to book a retreat or two each year for some major project work.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

I'm simultaneously reading a few books at a time, and tend to be engaged in at least two large PC games at any given time. I watch a lot. I listen to a lot. I'm tapped in to a ton of sources and I think that fuels my motivation. The problem is interest and specificity! As a librarian, I've come to find myself accessing all manner of things I wouldn't have just five years ago--themes and topics that were uninteresting are now captivating. And so here we are, the world blossoming and unfolding. Writing will still get stalled, of course, but it tends to be because I'm not very interested in what I'm actually writing. When that happens, I open some poetry books and read what people are writing these days, and that usually gets me inspired. While I don't try to copy other poets directly, we all borrow, don't we? And that action fuels the flames.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Strangely, creosote. The smell of desert rain is very similar to the smell of rain in the Maine woods. I don't know why, but I remember those smells fondly. In Seattle there's plenty of rain, but the aromas are typically absent.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

I'm definitely into all of the above. I really like artists who work in/with nature. The photography of Edward Burtynsky, the rooms of James Turrell, the sound poetry of Bob Cobbing--just a few of the artists over the years I've loved. But it really is endless, understanding these types of influences. I've really enjoyed the recent prose poetry of Joy Harjo and Natalie Diaz--particularly their writings on water and rivers. And noise has been an explicit influence on much of my work (Merzbow, Sonic Youth, blah blah blah).

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

Paul Nelson has influenced me more than any other writer in my adult life. The other writers involved with the Cascadia Poetry Festival. My best friend, Jason Conger, contributed to much of my aesthetic and I don't know if we'll ever stop sharing ideas with one another. I've found a lot of good stuff via Thomas Walton, Doug Nufer, Nadine Maestas, and Elizabeth Cooperman (the PageboyMagazine crew). Justine Chan too--particularly where deserts are concerned. And Sarah Heady for her interest in history and roots. And Libby Hsu for her interest in the tech industry. Charles Potts in Walla Walla and John Taylor in France and Khiang Hei in China and Maung Day in Yangon. There are 1,000 books on the shelves behind me and I tend to take something from every book I read, but I'll never gain as much as what I gain from the artist friends in my life.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

I had a great experience co-writing a chapbook, bilingual, with Burmese writer Maung Day. I'd love to do a full length book with another writer or artist some day.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I suppose I'm already fulfilling it as a librarian :) But that aside, I have significant interests in graphic design, instructional design, chemistry, and mycology.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I think it goes back to that notebook. I also think, honestly, that a lot of the late-90s and early-00s had some great writing in video games, a lot of it being poetic, and I never could get over how important the presence of language was in my gaming and other activities.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

Earlier today I finished The Secret Knowledge of Water by Craig Childs--an absolute joy for anyone who is interested in the Southwest. Weirdly I had never seen The Birdcage before, and I recently watched it after it was recommended on an art deco walking tour in Miami Beach, and I loved it.

20 - What are you currently working on?

I've been gathering footage for my next visual project. I'm very interested in motion and I've only touched on the motion of water with previous works. By taking some approaches used by minimalist painters, the goal is to reach black and white videos/gifs of water in very dark and very bright spaces. I also just completed a 100-ish page manuscript on travels during the pandemic--fairly straightforward lyrical poetry, which I hope to find a home for, in due time. Meanwhile, literary works seem to be on pause.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;