National Poetry Month : Rasiqra Revulva,

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Rasiqra Revulva is a disabled queer femme writer,  artist, editor, musician, and performer; developer and co-editor of the Hybrid/Experimental Section at The Ex-Puritan; and half of the experimental electronic duo The Databats (Slice Records). She has published three sold-out chapbooks: Cephalopography (words(on)pages, 2016), If You Forget the Whipped Cream, You're No Good As A Woman (Gap Riot Press, 2018), and Sailor, C'est l'heure (The Blasted Tree, 2021). Cephalopography 2.0 (Wolsak & Wynn, 2020), is her award-nominated debut collection.

Six Questions interview #174 : Sierra Duffey

Sierra Duffey is a queer writer and photographer in Montreal, Quebec. Through sassy poetry and colourful photographs, Sierra explores topics such as psychology, relationships, cults, and nature. Sierra strives to create connection through art and writing, which she views as a spiritual practice and a form of community-building. Her work has been published in PACE Magazine, Lantern Magazine and flo. She also shares and performs her work at art events and poetry readings. 

Q: How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? What took you away? 

I grew up in Ottawa in the west end (Stittsville/Kanata). Since being a teenager I was actually always curious to leave and live in Montreal, but through university, getting a government job and finding an amazing partner I never really had a good reason to leave Ottawa. After 3 years of living and working in the same space as my partner (at home) I saw a good opportunity to live elsewhere for a little while and have that solo adventure I always dreamed of.

I’ve lived in Montreal for the past 10 months and I’m ecstatic to stay that I’m staying for longer. 

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here? 

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, but it was mostly a private endeavor. In high school I did a writing class where my work got shared and published. I was surprised that I got really positive feedback. Since then, life got in the way a little and my writing practice remained private, so I never actually explored the writing community in Ottawa. When I decided to Montreal, I was writing more often due to so much time at home, and I decided it is finally time for me to put my work out there. I made it a goal to be active in the Montreal writing community. It’s funny that when I decided to explore here, I’ve also made more connections in the Ottawa scene as well. 

Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to where you have lived since? 

Being part of a writer’s community has completely changed my writing. I still write as a very personal practice, but it’s far more abstract, creative and playful. Having a space to actually perform and share my work allows me to think of it more as art rather than pure documentation. I write to discover myself, but also to transform those personal experiences into pieces that others can enjoy and relate to.

Q: What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What did Ottawa provide, or allow? 

Ottawa will always be my home and that is always going to shape my writing. I’m definitely grateful to my teacher of that initial class in high school and all my peers who enjoyed my work. Now that I’m writing more creatively again, I still reflect back on that semester often. While I adore the writing scene in Montreal, I think Ottawa provides a sense of rootedness in my life, and I’m reflecting a lot on how growing up in a government, sleepy town leaves a legacy on my future experiences and art pieces.

Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How had the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work? 

In the past few months I’ve been exploring themes around legacy, the meaning of home as well as leaving it. I write observational pieces in Montreal, but underneath the surface layers I’m actually exploring the significance of leaving your home town. When I think of Ottawa, or write pieces about the city, I’m often thinking about the places around Ottawa. Growing up I was blessed to explore so many places like beaches, Gatineau Park and many many outdoor areas between Ottawa and Kingston. If anything, the nature that surrounds the city has left its impact on me as much as the city itself.  

Q: What are you working on now? 

Over the past few months, I finished manuscript of a full collection. I’m currently soliciting it to publishers and just sort of trying to understand the whole other world of publishing. That collection is more confessional and focuses on relationships, heartbreak, and self-discovery.

In terms of creation, right now I am focusing on themes around legacy, home, nature, building a better future. Poems I’m writing these days are mostly fitting into a notebook titled Borealis. I’m using a lot of symbolism from biology, music, folklore, and environmental science to explore these concepts. There’s a lot more research behind it, and it’s a bit bigger picture than the deeply introspective poetry I’m used to writing.  I eventually want to have enough material to develop a full collection but I’m also taking my time to really dive deeper into these poems.

 

National Poetry Month : Leslie Roach,

 

I never knocked

I’ve wondered why
I never
knocked when
I
was left
out
in the
dark hallway.

It was
dark
in that building
and I was
scared.

And yet I never
knocked
to the
voices inside
at the party.

To let me
in.

I just cried.

 

 

 

Leslie Roach is an Ottawa-based poet and author. Her debut collection of poetry is called Finish this Sentence. She was born and raised in Montreal. She enjoys writing about freedom, mysticism, joy & presence. She believes in the power of the written word to disrupt the status quo and effect change, and this is why she writes.

National Poetry Month : Vivian Vavassis,

 

Beforetimes. A glistening organ of optimism.

No. The naïveté of physics, of knowing 

gravity as the only agent of falls.

No. Beforetimes as shimmering orchid

as belief in the quiet energy that gathers 

shoots forth a bud a day before trash collection.

Before that even. Picking up leaves, precious

as heirlooms, placing them carefully on the dresser.

Aftertimes. Self-reliance as carved marble.

Everyone who has my name is almost gone.

Oh but the blessings of your sweet milk head.

Oh but the blessings of your fierce

_ little arms.

The fear one day I’ll be gone.

 

 

 

 

Vivian Vavassis is a Montréal ex-pat who lives in Ottawa and calls both cities home. Her poems and essays have appeared in Prairie Fire, Arc, ottawater, Paris Lit Up, Peter F. Yacht Club, Glosas for P.K. Page, phafours press publications, and Studies in Canadian Literature, among others. Her chapbook XII was published by Textualis Press. She has been shortlisted for the Diana Brebner Prize twice, and her work was featured in the Parliamentary Poet Laureate's Poem of the Month program. Once upon a time, she ran a little ‘zine, and she currently is working on a manuscript.