La Macina di San Cresci



“Artists are interesting creatures. We can be obsessive, dedicated, spirited and single minded in our pursuit for that perfect realisation of our art. We tend to be outsiders and are often that square peg in the round hole, so when you find an oasis like San Cresci you hold on tight -- for it’s that sense of belonging which welcomes you.”
Rebecca Rath , Australia

Discipline: Poem
Country: USA
At La Macina: 2022

I write poems on my admirations and criticisms of my world, about the love I’ve felt and have not felt, and about my own nonlinear journey of self-growth. My poems touch on a variety of topics, mainly my South Asian identity, unrequited love, sexuality, and path to self-acceptance. My poems are inspired by my life experiences, and they are an attempt to express my thoughts that may be incoherent and may not necessarily have a platform in my day-to-day life. I am often asked where I get my ideas and imagery. The comparisons and descriptions of my poetry are snippets of my internal voice as I go through my days. When I view something, a poem may come up as a string of words or simply an image of something else that’s similar to what I am viewing. Simply put, I cannot disconnect the way I live my life from my poetry. I think in poems. I see these poems as a means to live in and take in my reality. My craft is a part of my ancestry. My name is Ruhani, which means spiritual in Urdu. I was given my name because my grandfather would repeat the word Ruhani in his own poetry. As if a prophecy, I began to write at the age of eight, without rules about how to write or what to write about. And even today, to write poetry is to free myself from the countless rules this world seems to have. The intent and purpose of my art is to give my own observations and feelings validity. I also want people who come across my work to understand that my thinking is rash but calculated, delicate but also abrasive. And intentional but beautifully subconscious. What keeps me writing is the idea that if I cease to write, then the part of me that thinks in poetry may cease to exist. And I’m not ready for that identity crisis just yet


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