It’s almost February 2022 and we could all use a rest, right? Right? This month Arc speaks with Phoebe Wang and Sanna Wani about balance, cycles, community, and their new collections forthcoming this spring.
How do you balance or integrate multiple creative pursuits?
Phoebe: A combination of intuition and list-making. I usually have one creative project nearly completed, one that is ongoing, and a few that are germinating so I will toggle back and forth based on an intuitive sense of what will best suit my state of being, where I am and the time of year. I make endless lists because I don’t have the luxury of time to wait for inspiration, but working on multiple pursuits is in itself gratifying. My way of working is lopsided and not very balanced. How about you, Sanna?
Sanna: Very similar to what you described! I don’t know if I would say that I’ve ever balanced them. Creative pursuits are not orderly for me like that, unfortunately—I wish they were. With poems, they appear when they want to. With prose, I have to just put aside time to do nothing (stare at an empty word doc) until 700 words show up. I hackney, more than integrate. They bleed into each other, for sure, but it’s more of a blizzard than a balance.
In what ways does the concept of cycles arise in your forthcoming collection?
Sanna: Cycles appear first in the technical order. Sections are like cycles right? I think especially because the first and third sections of my book are one thread and then the second and fourth loop around them. Even and odd. There are also cycles as a metaphor: cycles of grief, cycles of time, cycles of memory. There’s one poem which uses the names of the five daily prayers as section headers and that’s a kind of cycling. I don’t think the word cycle itself ever appears but the word circle does. The fourth section is divided into seasons. There was a poem about bicycles but I cut that. What’s your favourite kind of cycle, Phoebe?
Phoebe: My favourite cycle is the Chinese cycle of five elements: wood, metal, earth, fire and water. In this cycle, each of the elements can nourish another, and is hindered by another. It’s a reminder to keep the different aspects of our lives in balance, because we are a part of nature. The Medicine Wheel teachings from Anishinaabe spiritual beliefs are another cycle that is having profound impact on how I orient myself. Waking Occupations is in four parts, mapped onto the four seasons and areas of our lives, such as the personal, social, global and environmental. I don’t state this explicitly in the poems, as it is not my culture or place to teach the Medicine Wheel, but the poems have been a way to explore responsibility, relationships and healing. Like you, cycles of time hold my attention — how the figure of the female artist has recurred through time, how we can travel through time through looking at objects and art, how time has been divided arbitrarily to serve the movement of capital, and how we might decolonize our ideas of time.
Can you tell us about a time that a creative community has had a sustaining or rejuvenating effect on your life?
Phoebe: I am deeply grateful to the connections I have with other people of colour. During the pandemic, I would have online gatherings with other Asian Canadian fellow writers and we'd catch up, laugh, and talk about our work. Knowing that they’re also writing and looking to balance their personal relationships, health, work and commitments to their communities has helped me to feel less isolated. Moving to Fredericton, I’ve received a sense of welcome from the writing community in New Brunswick. In a new city, I meet younger writers of colour that I can offer support and mentorship to, which has reminded me of my role and responsibility to serve others. Otherwise my work is groundless and floating. What are communities that keep you grounded, Sanna?
Sanna: I think the communities that keep me grounded are literally so, in Kashmir and in the GTA. All communities are creative. Your answer, Phoebe, and move to Fredericton makes me think about coming home to Toronto recently after spending a year and a half in Kashmir and also going home to Kashmir back in August 2020. That sense of welcome, and warmth. Hearths. I feel a profound sense of relief when I am with people. The embarrassing uncle reciting Faiz at the party in Brampton sustains me as much as making a gham hour playlist with Manahil (Bandukwala) over pizza. The work that we do just by being together makes all my writing possible.
Compare your forthcoming collection to one (or several) weird thing(s).
Sanna: If My Grief, the Sun was a cup of coffee, it would be an iced blonde latte with a sprinkle of turmeric and two cardamom pods. In the middle of winter! I would carry it around outside, take it with me on my walk and probably catch a cold. It would be worth it.
If My Grief, the Sun was a tree, it would be a silver willow. I’m thinking of one in particular: it lives in my uncle’s cottage garden in Kashmir and it grows next to the river. They planted it recently. Every summer, it floods with rain and that baby sapling still hasn’t uprooted. It grows.
If My Grief, the Sun was weather, it would be a snowy spring day. I was born on a Thursday snowstorm in April. I want to think it was just after fajr. My grandpa whispered the azan into my ear.
If My Grief, the Sun was a writing utensil, it would be a thick green marker. It would be blotchy and leak through pages. I would have to learn to use it. To practice. And then my nephew would find it and use it to draw a spider on the wall.
Phoebe: If Waking Occupations was a meal, it would be a noodle bowl of wonton filled with shrimp, thin yellow noodles, and a chicken broth with yellow chives floating on top, bought from a street vendor in a steamy night.
If Waking Occupations was a health insurance claim, it would be for a follow-up visit for a physiotherapy appointment, one where the patient had already partially healed but needed experienced hands to facilitate the mending. The physiotherapist would be focused, but the skin would make them think of the California sand.
If Waking Occupations was a film, it would be directed by the Québec director Denis Villeneuve. The soundtrack would be scored by Alexandra Stréliski. The story would follow a time-travelling woman and artist in Montréal as she searches for mother and female ancestors who were also creators. She would also be searching for a bowl of noodles like the one she had in markets of Hong Kong.
I so enjoyed reading your answers, Sanna, and seeing how many connections we share. Thank you!
Sanna: You too! I can't wait for your book to be in the world and to keep exploring these questions and connections. And thank you, Margo, for making this exchange possible.
Thank you, Phoebe and Sanna, for your generosity in sharing this conversation with us!
Both collections are currently available for pre-order from your local bookstore or online here: My Grief, the Sun (House of Anansi Press, 2022) is Sanna Wani’s vivid debut collection. Waking Occupations (McClelland & Stewart, 2022) is Phoebe Wang’s second collection, following her critically acclaimed Admission Requirements.
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Interviewed by Margo LaPierre
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