Where do the titles for your posts come from?
First things first: "From where do the titles of your posts come?" Please, prepositions are like good-looking girls on a school bus, they should never be in back. Alright, so now that I've been pompous, let's get pretentious. Oh, won't you join me? The titles for my posts come from a variety of places: whether they be youtube videos (as was the case for the title of my first post) or Queen songs (as was the case for today's lovely post). I try to think of lines or allusions that are appropriate for what I'll be covering in that particular post, or otherwise titles that reflect my mood when I'm writing them--wait; is intellectual a mood? If it isn't then these titles aren't aptly reflecting anythin'. But in all seriousness, the titles come from poems I've recently read, or reread (post #2 and the allusion to Walt Whitman's Song of Myself), songs I've recently heard (post #7 and # 8, allusions to ABBA's Chiquitita and Janelle Monae's Oh Maker, respectively), or dumb raps I write when boredom rules the day--speaking of which, next post will feature another appearance by Broken Word Flo'etry.
Where do you get your inspiration for your poems?
Oh boy. That's a question that's more loaded than a rhetorical question asked by Professor CGB (English Majors at Colby, can I get an amen?) ((Ps. I hope Dr. Bryant never finds or reads this blog)). Alright, so on to the question: for the most part my writing comes from about 30% what I read, 30% what I see/feel/smell/hear/touch, 30% my imagination, and 10% defies the laws of physics and comes out of nowhere. It's energy that is created spontaneously, and as quickly as it appears, it can disappear. I'll pass on the words of a good friend who also writes, and knows a lot more about writing than I do, "To be a writer you have to read a lot and write even more." Sounds simple, but as with every other art form, the trick in today's world is how do you say what's already been said a million different ways by a million different people? For me the answer's always been: read what those millions of people have said, study it closely, and add what you can. At the end of the day, writing and art in general all comes down to one fundamental thing: trying to convey the human experience via the limited tools at our disposal.
What are you going to do after college?
These questions are like Ms. Pacman levels, they're just getting harder and harder as I go along. By the way, my all-time best in Ms. Pacman: 69,400--say word, Dee Rizzle. Well, right now the plan is to apply to grad school and have an MFA in creative writing within the next 3 years. I'll tell you where I've applied, once I've gotten into all those schools and have the luxury of picking from amongst them. Although, I will say this: yes, I'm applying to the University of Iowa. I'm not horribly confident that I've got Iowa-Writer's-Center quality writing, at the moment, but I shall apply, nonetheless. After all, at present time I've got a pretty good record of taking long shots and turning them into something promising so you never know. (Though, I do. I know. I know I shan't be admitted into that cathedral of writing--hello Raymond Carver allusion--but I'll be happy to read that particular rejection letter--sometimes you need to fail, just to know you're still capable of such beautiful things.)
When are you coming back to Lima?
JANUARY...I hope. That is currently the plan. Right now there are two ways I can go about achieving said plan: 1) obtain a scholarship to do some kind of research or volunteer project in Lima, or b) make enough money during the semester, win a writing contest here and there, and fund my own way back. Either way, Limeños be ready, this is one sequel that's gonna be MUCH better than the original, know what I mean, jellybean?
What's your favorite onomatopoeia?
I have to confess, no one actually asked me this. I just always really wished someone would, so I'm going to answer it as if it had been asked of me. The answer is as simple as it is beautiful: Ratatatat. It just rolls off the tongue so nicely, and you gotta love any onomatopoeic elements that come out of the hip hop world.
Sir, what are you doing back here?
I was just trying to illegally snap a photo of this Diego River drawing of Frida Kahlo, Mr. Security Guard at the Phoenix Art Museum. My sincerest apologies, sir. (By the way, Deer Reader, mission accomplished!)
How does it feel to be home?
This, I say with complete seriousness, I'm not home right now. I was home for 5 months this past year, and I shan't be home again until January. Like I said before, never have I been so thoroughly embraced by a place than I was in Lima. I'm coming back to you, querida. I promise.
Now, this, I say with 100% absurdity, I'd like to see more Hasidic Jews in the NFL, just to see what those curls would look like coming out of the helmets. Also, most NFL players don't practice on Saturday, so it seems like a logical fit to me. Plus, if you had a few Jews playing for the Washington Redskins or the Kansas City Cheifs, you could call them members of two tribes. Sports humor courtesy of me watching more ESPN. You're welcome.
Who is your favorite writer?
Absolutely not! This is an answer not unlike dividing 10 by 3, it's extends into infinity, and it'll just end up ruining your calculator. I know, I know, I included the question in my blog so I should answer it, but, honestly, there is no answer. I could try listing my favorite authors and poets and screenwriters and essayists and dramatists and journalists, but there's just no way I could ever look at that list and think for a second it was complete. Therefore, I'll just say this: this. For the moment, I'll give you the five most recent authors I've read, just to throw you a bone: Daniel Alarcón, Victoria Guerrero, Reinaldo Arenas, Guillermo Rosales, and Evelyn Waugh. Happy?
Do we get a poem from you today?
No. I'm too flustered with the last question. That, and I haven't been writing nearly as much as I was in Lima, but mostly it's the question thing. I will leave you with a parting gift, though. As many of you are aware New York recently legalized same-sex marriage (yay!)
-Recently? That was MONTHS ago.
Hey! Get off my back! I've been out of the country and tied up in other cool stuff.
-All I'm hearing is excuses out of you...
Don't make me come over there!
-With whom are you arguing right now?
Uh, well, I guess, no one, really. Ah great, now I look crazy. Anyway, New York, mad props, and to all the newlyweds in your state I just wanted to give you:
Something old
Something new
Something borrowed
Something blue
Because one of the hardest elements of the human experience to convey is that crazy little thing we call love, and artists like these musical groups have tried, and other artists have tried, and I'll try, and in some sense we'll all get it right and in another we'll all get it wrong. Though, that doesn't really matter. What matters is that we continue to feel this highly complex emotion that dares to change our way of looking at the world and ourselves and becomes the driving force of necessity, necessity for self-expression.
Ps. Notice how I tied it all back to the title? Boom! Have yourself a lovely week, D.R and thanks for your questions.
