How do you feel your poetry has evolved from your first book until now?
The shift from my first book, Winter Place, to my latest, Paper Gods and Rebels, lies, I believe, in the expansion of my thematic perspective and life experience in general. After 9-11 happened, I published Child of War in 2003, which marked a transitional period in my work. 9-11 was a shattering experience for Americans. A war had never been fought on our soil, since the Civil War and the false security that Americans were somehow immune from danger, came to an end on that fateful day of reckoning. Up till then, the global condition existed largely as an abstract reality. Now everything became more personal. The chickens had come home to roost so to speak. Some of my most personal poems are also my most political, because the intersection between the personal and political are blurred. I have always believed there are truly no boundaries between the two, because it’s all connected. What’s changed, however, is that my world no longer just encompasses the place and culture, wherein I happen to reside, but it springs from all the places, cultures and environments, where I have journeyed, both physically and psychically.
The rhythms and cadences of Black American Jazz are as inherent in my poems as Chinese American immigrant working class tropes. There is also a dimension of the spiritual, which wasn’t present in the first book. So I would say that the personal, political and spiritual elements in my work are now becoming more layered and subtle.
You often perform your poetry with music and music is also often infused into the text. What role does music inform or influence the work you produce?
Music is integral to my poetry. I hear my poems, before I write them. Of course, not the poem in its entirety, but I hear the poem’s sound. I hear a certain tone or rhythm imbued with a certain feeling or emotion and try to rescue it with a thought or idea. Then a word, phrase or line might manifest itself to me. I think I compose more like a songwriter would in that way. Perhaps that’s why musicians have told me that my poems are easy to work with because the rhythms and meters seem to fall into place. This is not the case with a lot of poems, I am told. I also have a need for constant change and get easily bored with doing things the same way every time so I try to change things up. That’s why I love working with creative jazz musicians, who are comfortable with improvisation and the prospect of surprise. I like to be surprised by something new in the poem that I hadn’t discovered before. Otherwise, it just feels like rote.
(How) does your Buddhist practice impact your writing?
It helps to keep me centered and mindful of my intention. It helps to keep me honest. Why am I writing? What is the purpose of writing? Who am I writing for? What difference does it make if I write? How might it help others?
Do you feel that you, or any artist, has a political responsibility in terms of their art?
From the beginning, art has been a very powerful tool of self-expression that can transform lives. Its roots in shamanism and spiritual healing have been ignored by Western dichotomous modern concepts of art that ultimately, relegated art, which had traditionally functioned at the core of society, to its margins. The sacred became the profane without the awareness or their paradoxical unity or inherent dual reality. If the sacred and the profane are relative opposites, then so are art and politics. One may think and insist that one’s work is not in the least political. Nonetheless, one’s choice not to deal with the political is a conscious act and as such, is a political consideration. Artists have the responsibility of examining the contradictions in society, which are designed to dis-empower them and citizens into political submission and fear. It is collusion, not to speak out against social injustice, corruption or violence.
How does your teaching influence your writing?
Teaching writing compels me to examine more deeply the process of writing. By breaking down the elements of craft and style, one becomes more conscious of the importance of discipline and commitment. One also develops an appreciation of the diversity of voices that seem ever infinite and distinct in the world. When a writer discovers his or her own voice, it’s like a blind person discovering sight. Whenever a student, after reading a written piece exclaims, “I don’t know where that came from!” the hair on your arm tingles. Writing is a ritual process and that’s what I teach, “Writing as ritual.” The teaching of it keeps the intent pure.
Genny Lim is an award winning poet, playwright and performer. She has recorded on several CDS in collaboration with some amazing jazz masters. Her newest book, Paper Gods and Rebels, will be released in August. (I’ll give you a reminder) You can find it on Amazon.com. One of her poems which I love is “Ahimsa.” “Bardo” is also a wonderful poem about the poet who is reaching for the poem that eludes her. I encourage you to check those poems out and buy her books. You will not be disappointed.
Did you enjoy this interview? What struck you? Let me know. Please leave a comment.
I am trying to reac Genny Lim to seee would be available for a reading in Austin Texas this fall. Can you helo. We have worked together years ago when I lived in the Bay Area. I can be reached at casadawil@earthlink.net and 512-627-3819.
I have forwarded your information to Genny. I hope it works out. She is a tremendous poet, performer and person.