I had the poems and pictures bound into a small book that I sent to each of my uncle’s family members. It was my way of showing up even from my home overseas.
Would you tell us a bit about your writing process?
I’ve been writing a poem a day for about a year now. Mostly short poems. Mostly haiku. It’s been a fun experiment. Lately I begin by looking closely, listening carefully, breathing deeply; basically connecting to as many sensory experiences as possible throughout the beginning of the day. I watch my children, these two fully embodied little creatures, as they interact with each other and the world around them. I go for a run in the morning and leave my headphones aside. Usually something about the trees or the changing light or the way my daughter waves to dogs or my son peddles to school sparks an idea, but the idea is never fully formed. It’s sometimes just one word or phrase that I’ll then add to in terms of details and rhythm. I try to capture the emotion I felt at the inception point in as simple a way as possible. I’ll write physical and digital notes where I can, until my toddler takes her midday nap and I can transfer them somewhere formal. I send drafts to my family and friends, who often give great edits. By evening I’ll set it aside and move on until morning.
And just recently, something new: I’ve started collaborating with my husband to write poems inspired by photographs of our shared life together. Our project is called Framed Ink. He takes photos, I write lines; we have fun pairing them together. You can find examples of our collaboration at framedink.substack.com.
Do you enjoy writing?
Yes, I love writing. I love the way the process of writing involves complete absorption. I love the way my monkey mind quiets with a pen in hand or a laptop open. I love the feel of that pen as it hits the paper and the sound of the keys as my fingers press down. I love reading words out loud to hear their rhythm. I love writing poetry as much as I love writing greeting cards as much as I love essays and even my journals. Yes, I love writing.
How do you believe a writer improves? Practice? Mentors? Reading everything? Attending festivals?
I haven’t attended any writing festivals (yet!), but with regard to the rest of the question prompts – yes, yes, and yes. Practice. Mentors. Reading everything. It’s all important because anything we do to invest in our writing gives life energy to what we love. During the early days of the pandemic I read poems every day, and then did my best to write personal notes to the poets who scribed them. I told them what their poetry meant to me – which specific lines lit up my mind and heart in so many ways. Many of them wrote back with the same advice: keep reading and keep writing. It was and still is so inspiring to connect with other artists and thank them for what they’ve given me.
My experience with writing has been profoundly different after having kids, and that’s because I appreciate what a privilege it is to sit down and write. I have to really work to find time to do that. My writing comes in short spurts and it’s often around someone else’s schedule. But keeping at it is what matters. If I can write a small number of words with a burst of feeling, that feels like the right direction.
What are the major benefits to being a writer?
I love that as a writer, I can take my practice anywhere. I’ve been thinking about that a lot this summer, as we’ve been traveling, hosting visitors, experiencing change and loss and all the parts of life that can make it so complex and so beautiful. Writing has been available to me throughout all of it. In fact, my writing has been better because of it. I’m extremely grateful for that.
Which successes are you most proud of?
What came to mind first surprised me: what I’m most proud of this year has been simply finding the time to write while taking care of two toddlers full time. The last twelve months have been my most productive as a poet and essayist. To see my work land in the outside world has been hugely gratifying, as has been filling my private journals with poetry written during nap times, late nights, and on the go. I would definitely call that a success.
What have been your most meaningful or profound experiences as a writer?
I’ll share one recent experience that I’m still carrying with me. When my uncle died last year, I was inspired to write haiku about the summers we spent together during my childhood. Our families were neighbors at the beach for nearly two decades. It was such a formative and frankly happy time in my life, and my uncle was one of the central characters in so many scenes. I wrote in an attempt to capture the spirit of my uncle’s presence during those years – at the beach, by the grill, in the swimming pool, etc. This was the opening sequence:
it’s always summer
in these memories of you
with clear August skies
After the poems were finished, my brother generously contributed by drawing illustrations to match some of the haiku. I had the poems and pictures bound into a small book that I sent to each of my uncle’s family members. It was my way of showing up even from my home overseas. A few weeks later, my aunt called after having received the book about her late husband. She spoke about the impact the book had on her, the way it depicted my uncle in such a light, and the way it brought to mind so many of her favorite memories. This was exactly the gift I’d hoped to give to his family, to give in his honor. It was profoundly gratifying to have my words provoke such emotion.
Sarah Mirabile-Blacker is an educator and writer currently based in Switzerland. Since becoming a mom to her two small kids, one of the hardest things that Sarah has struggled with is staying in touch with the parts of her that shaped her life beforehand. Her poetry is an attempt to do just that — to braid together the threads of her identity as well as articulating observations of her children, her partner, and the world inside and outside her. Moments that might have passed unnoticed become deeper in the context of poetry. So for now she’ll continue writing about her ever-changing roles, as well as the ever-changing people and places bringing her joy. Sarah’s work has been published in journals including Fine Lines, tsuri-doro, Autumn Moon Haiku, Cold Moon, and Failed Haiku. Her poetry has been featured in works such as bottle rockets: a collection of short verse and has been recognized in spaces like Poetry Superhighway Poet of the Week. Her work can be found at framedink.substack.com.