Interview: Sylvia Levinson

Sylvia Levinson — Poet, Writer, and Culture Vulture Interview by Terrie Leigh Relf ©2003 Terrie Relf writersmonthly.com All Rights Reserved

WM: How did you come to poetry?

SL:: I have always been in love with words and language (I am an avid crossword puzzle and Scrabble fan) and always a pretty good writer, though as a professional sales manager and trainer, my writing was mostly dedicated to policies, procedures, training programs and lots and lots of memos!

WM: When did you first begin writing poetry? Do you remember the first poems you wrote?

SL: Although I did write one poem in third grade about my baby brother, and one in high school about God, I never knew there was poetry in me until it erupted in October of 1991. Yes, I remember the incident exactly Ì I was working at the Old Globe Theatre, and we were in temporary offices at the Old Naval Library on President’s Way, across from Balboa Park. I was taking an afternoon break and sitting on a stone bench at the edge of an empty concrete reflecting pool, when a Monarch butterfly lit very near me and stayed a long time. I was in my personal growth and metaphysical phase then, so I thought this some kind of omen. I slowly approached the butterfly who took off, circled back and lit once again very near me. This ritual continued for some time - I approach, she takes off, she returns. Something magical was contained in that instant for me, and that evening, I wrote my first poem as an adult and haven’t stopped writing since. I was 53 years old! I believe that going to work in the arts, as opposed to the high tech corporate environment in which I spent my prior professional years, and being around the creative process and creative people, allowed this part of me to open and "take wing," so to speak.

WM: I would definitely say that was an omen! Are there other experiences that confirmed this for you? As if once we know we’re poets we need more confirmation†

SL: Relative to this late start at writing poetry, when I met the poet Alberto Blanco at a Border Voices Fair party and told him about beginning to write poetry at such an advanced age, he told me that this was very significant in the Mayan calendar. There is something called the 52 Cycle. The Mayans kept time with a combination of several cycles that meshed together to mark the movement of the sun, moon and Venus. The cycle completes every 52 years and signifies a possibility of the end of the world and a new beginning. This new beginning is the Fire Ceremony which assures continuation for another 52 years. Well, since I went to work at The Globe at age 52 and am an Aries, fire sign, I embraced this as another validation for becoming a poet.

WM: That’s fascinating. I know our readers would like to hear about your poetic process.

SL: I can’t say that I have a specific process. I wish I were more disciplined, which is why I take a semester poetry writing class once a year. For the most part, something comes to my attention, perhaps a newspaper headline or a film, and it evokes righteous indignation, sadness or initiates a commentary on humanity. The movie, Ulysses’ Gaze, inspired the poem "Pastorale," which is about the devastation in the Balkans. One Saturday morning, a Frank Sinatra song playing on the radio took me right back to being a freshman in college, the seeming simplicity of those times contrasted with the current global chaos, and the poem "All the Way," was born. I attended a reading by poet Yusef Kumunyakaa last year, and inspired by his use of language, wrote "Imperative." Sometimes, it’s simply stopping to notice that the light in my house is changing as the sun sets, or it’s raining, or the daffodils on my night table have died or a small bird fell out of the nest and died on my balcony Ì these have all become parts of poems; the latter two incidents combined into a poem called "Curtain," about the death of a friend. I think it is this gift of "attentiveness," as Jane Hirshfield calls it, which helps me to find the poetry in the ordinary.

WM: What else influences—or
inspires—your poetry?

SL: When I first began reading others’ poetry, I felt like I didn’t have enough emotional baggage in my life to write important, meaningful or evocative poems. After all, I was raised in a two-parent family with no abuse of any kind (except for Jewish guilt). We were probably lower-middle class financially, but I never felt deprived (except I never had a real cashmere sweater). However, in recent years, childhood memories and family dynamics have come into play for me quite a lot Ì now that I’m older, I cherish solitude and alone time and meaningful memories seem to be making meaningful poems. The most significant part of my growing up, was the three years I lived on a dairy farm in Ohio, with my auctioneer and cattle dealer father, my New York City born, opera-loving mother and my younger sister. Although this was only from ages 5 to 8, there’s part of me that will always be a country girl. Memories of the hay wagon turning over on us with a full load of alfalfa, riding my own pony, the night the barn burned down, my mother’s migraines brought on by cultural isolation, have all become poems.

In times of emotional pain, poetry becomes the healer. I wrote several poems during the time my son had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized. This allowed me to come to terms with what I was feeling, my helplessness and what it means to be a mother. Emotional pain has also produced some of the worst poetry I’ve ever written, you know, those sophomoric, broken-heart, bleeding-all-over-the-page-after-the-break-up poems!

WM: So, once you begin a poem, what is your process from "start-to-finish"?

SL: I rarely just sit down and decide to write a poem. More likely, I scribble an idea or a line or two on the nearest scrap of paper in the car, on my night table or the side table next to my chair in the living room. I do sometimes write in my journal, when I’m feeling particularly introspective or something takes my notice. When I’m feeling in need of inspiration, I will go back and read journal entries and highlight lines of thoughts for poems. If I can’t express ideas poetically initially, I’ll write narrative and then pull the poetic from it later.

WM: You’ve already mentioned a few poets you admire. No doubt there are others.

SL: Where do I begin? I often fall in love with the work of the latest poet or writer who comes to my attention. An early favorite, Mary Oliver, has the ability to take my breath away when she examines a discrete part of nature through her exquisite microscope of language: "this morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready/to break my heart/." Jane Hirshfield’s Zen-like, quiet poetry, also meditates on ordinary objects or every day activities and finds life meaning. Marge Piercy, Billy Collins, Jane Kenyon, Dorianne Laux Ì clear, accessible, meaningful work with unique language or surprising twists. I occasionally go back to The Book of Luminous Things, edited by Czeslaw Milosz. It is an anthology of international poetry, of which I know little. It contains works from early Chinese poets, such as Li Po, who wrote in the 8th century, to Polish poets Anna Swir, Wislawa Szymborska, and many others: Armenian, Norwegian, Estonian. American poets include Gary Snyder, Raymond Carver, Walt Whitman, Sharon Olds, Jane Hirsfield and San Diego’s own Steve Kowit and Al Zolynas.

WM: Quite a list! What about fiction writers?

SL: In fiction, my taste runs the gamut from the Indian magical realism in short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri and Chitra Divakaruni to the satirical voice of Jonathan Franzen in "The Corrections," to the poetically written "The Lovely Bones," by Alice Sebold. Recent reads include The Magician’s Assistant, by Anne Patchett and Empire Falls, by Richard Russo. Lately, I’ve been introduced to the fantasy genre with the work of Jonathan Carroll Ì another fiction writer who expresses himself in poetic language. The most recent book I read was The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, who is considered a sci-fi writer. Since I have never had an interest in or been able to relate to sci-fi or fantasy, I am fascinated to find that reality and fantasy, the physical and metaphysical, are no longer very far apart for me thanks to poetry and metaphor.

WM: Not into Sci-fi?! Surely you jest†You already mentioned that you take a poetry class once a year. What other courses have you taken? What about workshops? Writing Retreats?

SL: When I first began writing, I thought the words as they appeared on the page were sacred. I had no idea that revision and craft are the keys to writing powerful, beautiful, impactful poetry. The first person who ever saw my work and offered to give feedback, was local poet Charlene Baldridge. She was working at The Globe as Publicity Director at the time I was there. After The Writing Center opened and provided a safe, non-judgmental environment for me to associate with other writers, I tentatively dipped my toes into short workshop offerings by Steve Kowit, Jim Allen, Joe Milosch, Roger Aplon, Sandra Alcosser, Glory Foster, Julia Doughty, Diana Garcia.

In recent years, I’ve taken Anne Wilson’s class on getting published, attended the first Whidbey Island retreat which she created and conducted, and have attended full semester classes with Steve Kowit at Southwestern College and Ryan Griffith at Grossmont College. Not only do I find workshops and classes instructive, but have met other great writers with whom I participate in reading and critique groups. One of my lucky finds was to meet Gretchen Sousa at TWC and be invited to join the Cass Street Poets, a group of 6 women poets which meets monthly to critique our work.

WM: I, too, have Charlene Baldridge to thank! I attended one of Steve Kowitt’s library workshops, and remember taking a few "seasonal" workshops with Julia Doughty at the Writing Center. A great list of poets!

So, I know you’re involved with Border Voices. How did you become part of the program?

SL: When I first read of the Border Voices Poetry Fair, which was in its formative stages in fall of 1993, I figured it would be a great way to connect with other poets in the community. I was sure any arts project would need volunteers to fold and stuff envelopes, circulate fliers, etc. I met Jack Webb, the founder of Border Voices, at The Study coffee shop (now defunct) in Hillcrest. The project seemed vast, not yet well-defined, but exciting. Well, I got roped into doing fund-raising, as they did not then have the kind of grants and funding they now have after 10 years of hard work and well-earned prestige. The day of the first Poetry Fair, April 1994, at the Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park. Patsy Milosch (whose husband Joe was the Fair Coordinator) and I were the parking attendants in the heat of a Santa Ana. I have stayed involved with the Fair all these years, and since 2000, have taken over as coordinator of escorts for visiting poets. This has allowed me to communicate with and meet/escort many notable poets including Jane Hirshfield, Adrienne Rich, Jayne Cortez, Reggie Gaines, Naomi Shihab Nye, Billy Collins, Donald Hall, and Joy Harjo. My part in Border Voices involves only the Fair and a few meetings a year. It is really the poet-teachers, who go into classrooms throughout San Diego County and reach over 6000 pupils a year with the gift of writing poetry who make the real difference.

WM: You’re also a key player/literary activist with The San Diego Writers’ Cooperative. How did you become involved?

SL: In the summer of 1998, when The Writing Center closed, it left a tremendous gap in what had become a very close, productive writing community. If you read Megan Webster’s interview in January writersmonthly.com, she explains the genesis of The San Diego Writers’ Cooperative (SDWC) in detail. I was one of the original founders Ì Megan, Terry Hertzler and Karin Zirk, the others Ì who had been very involved in TWC and felt there must be a way to keep writers and teachers in touch with each other. From this evolved the SDWC web site, which is a resource for writing and writing events. I resigned from the Steering Committee after a one year tenure, however, I served as coordinator for the 3rd Annual SDWC Writing Contest in 2001.

WM: Are you involved with other literary organizations?

SL: In 2001, I started doing author escorts for a company called Media Services. When publishing houses send authors on book tours, they use a local company to provide escorts for their authors--everything from airport and hotel pickup and dropoff, getting them to signings, TV and radio interviews, and lectures. I’ve even found a place for one to get a haircut and taken another shopping for a gift for her hosts. The publishing companies have cut down on author book tours because of the economy and many authors are sent to LA instead of San Diego, but I have escorted a few authors so far, including the wild and profane James Ellroy and the quiet and thoughtful Jonathan Carroll, whom I mentioned earlier. Meeting published authors is exciting and I learn a great deal about their work, their processes, and their lives.

WM: Would you like to share any choice tidbits with burgeoning writers?

SL: The most important thing I have learned is the need for revision and crafting of the work. As I mentioned earlier, I was so awestruck by the idea that I was writing poetry that I felt it was mysterious and should not be changed. I also discovered by reading poetry and attending readings, that I wanted my work to be better, to say it better, to get that gasp of recognition from readers. Attending classes and finding a critique group which is constructive but challenging, helps me learn and improve. Two books which are very good for guidance in the art and craft of poetry are The Poet’s Companion, A Guide to the Pleasures of Writing Poetry, by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux, and In The Palm of Your Hand, The Poet’s Portable Workshop, by Steve Kowit. Both of these have been used as textbooks in classes I’ve taken.

I don’t think one writer can emulate another’s process. We each have to find our own way. For me, attending readings, workshops, classes and being brave enough to participate in open mikes stimulates my creativity and gives me ideas, which bubble and fizz somewhere in the background. Then, there comes the time when I must retreat, stay in the quiet of my own home, run off to the woods, or sit in the anonymity of a local coffeehouse and put pen to paper. Speaking of which†I do write my first draft by hand, then type it up on the computer so I can look at it for format and line breaks. I’ve recently begun reading the poem out loud. It’s a good way to hear what works, what doesn’t, what words sound awkward or cause tongue-trips, if another word choice would be more musical or more appropriate to the subject matter. And, of course, my best friends for revision, after the Cass Street Poets, are Roget’s Thesaurus and Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary.

WM: When did you first start reading your poetry for an audience?

SL: The first time I ever had the courage to read my work in front of others was at The Writing Center’s monthly open mikes. TWC provided such a safe and nurturing environment. It was many years later that I decided I needed to read at more open mikes, since it scared me so much. In what I considered trial by fire, I started signing up at Claire de Lune during Cheryl Latif’s tenure as host, since I felt that if I could read in front of such a diverse crowd with some very high energy poets, I could probably read anywhere. I’ve participated in open mikes at Merle Fischolowitz’s events at Borders Books (defunct now), Kathy O’Fallon’s readings at Barnes and Noble (now hosted by Seretta Martin), Magee Park Poets, Twiggs, No Borders, Lestat’s. I think my best recommendation about reading in public is that Nike motto Ì "just do it." I do think one owes it to fellow poets and audience to be mindful of the time you are allotted to read and also to practice your delivery and projection before you get up to the mike. There’s nothing more frustrating than listening to the mumblings of a poet whose work might be terrific if you could hear it!

WM: You’ve also been a featured poet, haven’t you?

SL: As far as feature readings, my only solo was this past September at Claire de Lune. It was an honor to be invited by Marc Kockinos to perform in this high profile venue and I did spend a lot of time selecting the poems, developing some comments for continuity and practicing, practicing, practicing into a tape recorder to make sure the timing was right and the delivery conveyed the tone and meaning of each poem. I have also been included in a feature at D.G. Wills with Terry Hertzler, Brandon Cesmat, Megan Webster and Ted Burke, and another at Open Door Books in Pacific Beach with the Cass Street Poets (Gretchen Sousa, Meredith Kunsa, Kitty Belsey, and Carlene Hacker).

WM: What about publications?

SL: Well, I’ve had my first poem accepted by a national journal, Snowy Egret and it will appear in the Spring 2003 issue. I have been fortunate to have my work selected for inclusion in many local anthologies Ì City Works, Tidepools, Magee Park, Acorn Review and TWC anthologies.

WM: How do you go about deciding where to submit your work?

SL: I always have good intentions of submitting to more national publications, but somehow get bogged down in the administrative tasks of which journals, which poems, format requirements, whether or not to include a cover letter, whether or not previously published or simultaneous submissions are accepted.

WM: What poetic projects do you have in the works now? A chapbook,
perhaps?

SL: One of my goals for 2003 is to put a chapbook together. This seems to be another area where I get bogged down in the mechanics and details. And, of course, every time I choose a poem I think is good enough to be included, I decide it needs revision! I’m hoping to meet the February 15 deadline for the San Diego Book and Writing Awards, which requires a submission of 10 poems for its poetry contest. Maybe this will get me on the way to the chapbook!

WM: Ah yes. Revise, revise, then revise again†Is there anything else you’d like to add?

SL: Since I no longer work full-time (yippee!), I have found my community as a poet among others in the vibrant writing community of San Diego. For this and for their generosity of time, resources and feedback, I am grateful.

>>Back to top<<

Read Sylvia Levinson's Poetry