Poet Rose Hunter(Important! If this post is cut off at the bottom, reload the page. This usually solves the problem.)
The poet Rose Hunter has lived in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for about two and a half years now, which to Rose seems both long, and not that long. Originally from Australia, Rose spent ten years in Toronto before moving south of the borders. She speaks German – her mother is German – and Spanish – which she describes as a work-in-progress – but she publishes only in English . . . for now.
IMBO: Buenos dias, Rose! I love the old town of Puerto Vallarta, as I think I’ve told you several times. Someday we’re going to share some guacamole and a few margaritas – but until then, how about telling us a bit about your writing.
Rose: I don’t know how to describe my writing except that at the moment I’m writing mostly poetry, and it mostly comes out of my life experiences because I don’t know how to do it any other way. I mean everything is a life experience. I don’t understand what I think are called “writing prompts” and the like, is what I’m trying to say.
I’ve written short stories and whatnot in the past (and articles, etc.) and will probably go back to doing that as well, eventually. But I’ll always write poetry I hope, if I can. That’s the writing I enjoy the most, and that makes the most sense to me.
IMBO: How has being an expat affected what, and the way, you write?
Rose: Where I live has an enormous influence on what I write, and the way I write. It’s about writing, but it’s also about more than that. It’s about being happy, generally, with where I exist, and feeling simpatico with the culture around me. I don’t feel that in Australia for example. There are a lot of reasons for that, and cultural differences I could get into and probably bore everyone, and maybe offend a few people. I wrote somewhere that it’s like Australia is written in a code I don’t understand. I get very depressed there. There’s nothing for me to write about there. That sounds dramatic, but, well, there you have it. Whereas here there’s plenty of living, and therefore plenty of writing.
IMBO: Let’s say you’ve just boarded a transatlantic flight. As you make your way to your seat, adrenaline shoots through your chest. You’ve dreamt about this moment with this person for years. He/she is sitting in the seat next to yours. Who is it and, assuming you get the nerve up, what will you talk about—for nine hours?
Rose: I never know how to answer this type of question. There are lots of people of course, authors or maybe spiritual teachers, etc. But I’ve probably read their books and most likely they say more in those books than they would to a stranger on a plane. I think I’d prefer a chance to be thrown together with someone I used to know. Maybe someone I can’t get up the nerve to contact again, or wouldn’t know how to find. I’d like to know what happened to certain people, and what they’re doing now. Yes. I can think of one or two people like that. I won’t say who, here. PS I realize I am turning down an opportunity to talk to Jesus or something. Oh well.
IMBO: No one ever says they’d like to sit next to me, but OK. Onward. Care to share some of your work with us?
Rose: Well, I’ll give you the link to the book of poems I’ve just published, which is like a long story too, in a way. Here is the info, at my blog. There are links to the book at Amazon on that page, as well as some blurbs, and links to poems from the book that have been published in various journals. The book is called A Foal Poem.
It came about I suppose, like my stuff usually comes about, as some kind of compulsive urge to make sense of my experience and (in my mind) record it so it’s not lost forever. I’m sure that’s what most of my writing is about: not wanting to lose things. The attempt is futile of course, but at the beginning of a book I seem to think this time it’s going to work. I haven’t written so many books. But I completed another manuscript recently and I realized the same impetus must have been behind it, because I noticed the same disappointment, afterwards. This period of lived time, this experience, this person, whatever it is – no, it/they, are still lost, after you’ve finished spilling the words. This is something most reasonable people understand I think. But I don’t think writers are reasonable people. I think a lot of us are, as I remember Martin Amis putting it one time, people who are “flummoxed by first principles.” At least I know I am. The word “recovery” (in the epigraph of A Foal Poem) works on a few levels, I think/hope.
A Foal Poem is coming out as an eBook shortly, but prior to that if anyone wants a free PDF copy, I’ll send it to them. Just email me: email@example.com. No strings, or commentary required/expected. Just a free book.
IMBO: Wow, Rose, that’s a sweet offer. How about a link to a story written by another expat?
This poem has so many things in it I like. A red light and a fish market, for a start. Place! Salt! And a tooth at the end…. People who know me a bit know I can get obsessed with teeth. I also like salt, and, although I don’t drive, gas pedals and steering wheels:
…. She knew
the steering wheel by its salt
margins, its strange salt
sweat on her hands. When did the foot
become a note, a tic that knew
and what images, right?
This was how 5 AM felt in her grip, like salt
in a footbath, a painful tooth abstraction.
IMBO: Has your concept of home changed since you’ve been an expat?
Rose: Mexico is the first place that’s felt like home, really. So I guess my idea about home is that sometimes you have to look for it; you’re not necessarily born in it.
Rose, it's been very interesting catching up with you. Congratulations on A Foal Poem! I hope it's a grand success.
I must be off,
Links to Rose Hunter's writing can be found at "Whoever Brought Me Here Will Have To Take Me Home." Her book of poetry,to the river, was published in 2010 Artistically Declined Press. Poems of hers have been published in such places asPANK,kill author,decomP, elimae, The Nervous Breakdown,anderbo, Juked, Metazen, The Toronto Quarterly, Bluestem, Escape Into Life, and others. She just published a new full-length poetry book, A Foal Poem. She is the editor ofthe poetry journalYB, andlivesin Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.She also keeps a photo blog at Fotos del Día.
Christopher Allen is the author of Conversations with S. Teri O'Type (a Satire).