
Samantha Barrow, a traveling poet based out of Philadelphia will read with Glen McLaughlin on May 17 at The Delaware County Institute of Science-7pm in Media, Pa. Barrows has published three books, conducts workshops and tours reading her works. To learn more about Samantha Barrow please visit: http://www.samanthabarrow.com/
THE INTERVIEW:
Q. You have traveled cross country twice reading your works at various venues. Steinbeck also traveled cross country writing “Travels with Charley”. He wrote of the changing landscape at that time in America and the blending of unique cultures into one. What was your impression of the landscape of America during your travels?
I think there should be color coded maps that accompany your Rand McNally that zone according to the regions where you can smoke inside, where vegetarian food is available, and perhaps swath in a lovely sea foam green the places where you can smell sage or sweet grass, like Nebraska and Montana, some parts of TX.
Q. There are not many poets who would be comfortable reading their poetry in Biker Bars and at The Kelly Writers House. What do you attribute your appeal to both working class folks and academics?
I’ve been a waitress off and on since I was 14. Getting paid to market a dish to people you don’t instantly like and who don’t instantly like you either teaches you to put a lot of effort into charm and to take a lot of shit. I am funny on stage and people can understand what I am trying to say. A lot of our population hates poetry because they “don’t understand it”. Its insulting to be confused by a language that you are otherwise the master of in your daily life by people who are supposed experts. I make sure to put enough out there (both in my persona and in my poems) that will connect emotionally with my audiences. I give them a reason to want to connect back, while I am also offering more challenging thoughts, ideas and aesthetics. I am obviously passionate about what I do, and am engaged in an activity that scares the shit out of me. I think people relate to my vulnerability. It’s obvious I am not armored, but I am doing it anyway. And usually laughing at myself about it. But also I care about / get turned on by / feel humbled at the sound of words. When a line sinks down that is impeccable, where every word earns its keep on the page, where the sound of the vowels and consonants and the number of syllables equal the emotional color value of what is being said, when meaning just keeps pouring from that one line the way stars blossom from behind your eyelids when you press your eyeballs back into their sockets with your finger tips, I am in awe. And I believe to witness another human being in awe is compelling.
Q. There is a lot of “buzz” regarding your workshops. What are your goals for the workshop and the benefit for those who attend?
What’s the buzz? Is that a good thing?
People often ask me why I put sexual trauma and erotic joy in the same
thought / workshop whatever – as if it was my idea. Some humans have
orgasms while they are being raped. Other people never cum again –
no matter how safe / loving / healthy their sexual situation is. Our body
memory can’t neatly compartmentalize these things, especially since
sex is about loosing control, connecting to parts of our skins and souls that
are too gigantic to name in civilized fashions.
When violence is done to our bodies or our erotic imaginations, (which
is both a personal and societal epidemic), we need to heal ourselves by
using them properly again. But sexuality, physical and otherwise, is wild,
unwieldy, misbehaving stuff. It gets angry when its not supposed to,
responds to people it should rationally hate, can’t take itself
seriously, is ashamed of its rompy desire, and is always a disappointment to the
icon of the perfect victim. I like to co-create safe places where expression
of all the fucked up connections, self hatreds, shameful desires, and
strange appetites are normalized. Writing is a tool to do that. It is
powerful to be alone on the page with yourself in communion with others
where you don’t have to explain or justify yourself to anybody.
There is lots of time to share our writings, but no one is forced to. Ever. And
the result is that individuals get boosted when others in the circle get free
of some shame or share a little joy.
Q. Have your New England roots coupled with living in Philadelphia influenced your writing and presentation style?
Yes. I think spring is something you earn by living through the darkness and snow, and sarcasm is almost always appropriate. Philly is a warm sloppy friendly violent dirty city. Q. What poets do you consider to be a major influence on you?
Ani Difranco, Sekou Sundiata, Lucile Clifton, but more than anything else it been all the poets I’ve seen live and who love - laboriously create living spaces where poetry can be community church government family. All the kids I’ve “taught” poetry to, reminding me that words are something everyone should feel entitled to own, connect to, shape, use as a tool, fillet and suck like a flounder. Mike Boone, the great jazz musician, taught me as a friend / fellow performer / artist that worship is part of the craft. There are some lines by Margaret Atwood that drop me. Audre Lorde’s essays have opened major doors for me. I witness more poetry live than I read alone. I saw Kesed Ragin and Rha Goddess a few weeks ago at the Brooklyn Academy of Music and I wept, out of love and respect and connection to those ‘why are we on this planet anyway’ thoughts.
Q. Lauren Begnaud wrote of your poetry, “Barrow crafts her words honestly, unabashedly, and without shame.” Do you believe poets who write in this manner could cause a revival of poetry in the United States similar to that which has occurred in Europe?
1. It is an erroneous assertion that I craft “shamelessly.” I am constantly riddled with shame, although I am honest. I like what she said about “Her voice is that of a woman who has the ability to make the intangible become tangible right before our very eyes” though. And I am grateful to her for reviewing my book. Georgia O’Keefe wrote “I’m frightened all the time . . . scared to death. But I’ve never let it stop me. Never!” I can’t say I’ve never let fear stop me, but I like the sentiment. It is a realistic view of the process of doing things we care about. Anything that is important is scary. But as Audre Lorde said, “When I use my strength in the service of my vision, it matters less and less whether I am afraid.” 2. I don’t know what you’re talking about in Europe, but I know there are a lot of exciting things happening in
America that have to do with poetry today.
Q. How is your’84 Honda Shadow holding up and will you ever switch to a Harley?
Lavalee died August 23rd, 2002. See page 84 of GRIT and tender membrane ($13.95 www.planbpress.com ) I’ve been riding Baby, a 2002 midnight purple VStar 650 since then. I wonder sometimes about the 9 miles she got worn before I got her.And as for “will you ever switch to a Harley?” I think there is more to be said for the fact that you (and everybody else) asks that question. I’m thirty one. How am I supposed to know what I’ll do when I double that? A sweet ride is a sweet ride, but for now, all I know is Harleys cost more, especially if you don’t know how to fix them yourself.
Q. On May 17th you will be reading for the Mad Poets at the Institute of Science. What should those in attendance expect?
To buy my book. I am unemployed.
Q. Why are you a poet?
Aw Jesus. . . It legitimizes talking to myself and getting impatient about other people not listening. I like feeling understood. I like being alone yet feeling connected to the potential of being witnessed in a way I have artful control over. It is a political tool, a spreader of news, a redefiner of reality. An insistence that CBS etc doesn’t have the final say. It’s a way of communicating our beauty and collective strength in struggle. Its a blood line to god. It’s a good excuse to take naps. Where else would I put our magic stories