Where I Am Writing From
Michele Scaccaglia
Where I am writing from
Is a carousel I can’t stop.
A loop with no engine
But gears there to screech;
Sometimes they crack
They shrink, I faint.
Hang on for a century,
My voice has the fuzzy melody
Of a broken bell.
No point in screaming my name
Echoes deny empathy
Empathy defines a power abuse
I'm not used to.
Sleepless nights summon feckless oracles.
No point in banishing them, they won’t vanish
No one's turn to swear, walls fret over nothing
‘Cause white’s still the trickiest color.
I absorb the smell of my companions
Our sweat is poison for the soil:
A sour payback, for our divination.
But before falling from a magma window
Let a breath of grace lay down the manifesto
Of a self-serving revolution.
“It gives you freedom, but also anxiety.”
Interview by L. Valena
July 6, 2023
Let's start from the top. Can you describe the prompt that you responded to?
The prompt was an image. The first thing I thought was about aliens, and about some kind of interconnection with other beings. I didn't perceive any fear in this connection with the aliens. I also noticed mechanical imagery, which gave me an idea of where to start. I took from this prompt the concept of alienation, and then I moved in my own direction.
Where did you go from there?
I have been reflecting on the concept of alienation. I read a story by Raymond Carver called "Where I'm Calling From." It's a story based in a rehab community. It happened that I recently visited a friend in a similar place, in Italy. It was quite an experience for me. I was putting that experience into words, and reflecting onto this type of alienation.
In that community, people must stay there for three years. They have no contact with the external world, they cannot keep phones with them. They are isolated, but at the same time it is a place where everyone is deeply connected with each other. From there, the feeling of isolation/alienation we have all experienced during COVID came to my mind.
Do you want to talk about how that felt for you? I think everyone experienced it differently.
At the beginning, I was trying to see the positive side of it. Taking a break from our super speedy life seemed quite necessary. Then it became a nightmare. I don't think it was good for me to spend so much time isolated from life.
That's such an interesting way of putting that, 'Isolated from life.' In a lot of ways, life really does feel like it's about other people.
Exactly. It was a good occasion to think about this. What is life about? Is it about going to work? Traveling? Having the freedom to see people we care about?
I agree. It really did put things into perspective in a certain way. It sort of called us all to ask ourselves what kind of life we want to lead, and those of us who are lucky enough to have made it to the other side, we get to choose now. It's kind of incredible.
For sure. Now I value more every meeting I have with people.
One thing I wanted to ask you about is this line in your poem, "white’s still the trickiest color." What is that about?
It has different meanings. It can be the color of the walls. I live in a one-room apartment in Berlin. These white walls around me can be a bit oppressing, but also they can be an inspiration. Like a blank page. It gives you freedom, but also anxiety. When I received this prompt, I had that blank page in front of me, and for a writer it is always quite challenging to look at it, you can easily lose yourself. Inspiration can’t always save you, it is important to push yourself and drop some lines anyway.
It also refers to the rehab community I mentioned. It's the color of drugs. It's a metaphor for addictions in general. It is about being trapped. White is not always a peaceful color.
Right. If you don't know where you're going, blankness can be disorienting.
Disorienting, and unsettling. We are all used to absorbing an enormous quantity of content, we have lost the ability to deal with blankness, and to fill it with our own original ideas. The creative process in any field is heavily affected by that.
Can you talk a bit about your process? How do you get going when you're writing?
I usually write poems, short stories and lyrics. I sing in an electro-punk band in Berlin. Writing poems and song lyrics is a similar process. I start from feelings, from something happening in my daily life or that I observe. From there I speculate. When it comes to poems, I try to focus more on the form. I do care about the sounds of the words, especially when I write in Italian, which is my native language.
How does this piece relate to the rest of your work?
I write about the human condition and human feelings, the perception of space and time and of other beings. Another way this piece relates to my other work is sensoriality. There are always sounds, tactile sensations, smells, colors in my poems. I like the idea of poems as sensory experiences.
What are you going to write next?
I'm working on a short story based in Coney Island. Something a bit apocalyptic. I was in New York in June, and I experienced the orange sky caused by the smoke of the wildfires in Canada. It was unsettling but inspiring. A vivid picture of our impact on Earth. I would like to write about it, and Coney Island seemed to me a perfect set for that.
Do you have any advice for another artist going through this process for the first time?
Focus on the first impression. Take something from that first impression. Don't try to understand what is behind the prompt, because you cannot know anyway, since we cannot talk to the artist about it. So take that first impression and just play with it.
Call Number: Y107VA | Y108PP.scaWhe
Michele Scaccaglia was born in Reggio Emilia, Italy, in 1984. He is a writer and storyteller based in Berlin. His short stories, poems and lyrics deal with the distorted perception of time and space, along with the dark sides of human beings.