Biography

Belinda Subraman edited Gypsy International Literary Magazine from 1984-1994. She also edited many books under the VERGIN PRESS imprint including two volumes of VOCES FRONTERIZAS, anthologies of writings based on life on the U.S./Mexican border sponsored by the El Paso Public Library as well as THE GULF WAR; MANY PERSPECTIVES, EARTH TONES, IMAGES OF JIM MORRISON and HENRY MILLER AND MY BIG SUR DAYS. Belinda's own writing spans a vast array of subjects, styles and publications. She has traveled in over 20 countries, lived in Europe for 6 years and was part of an East Indian family for 20 years. These cross-cultural experiences often inform her work as well as her experiences in the medical field.. Her poetry, stories, and art can be found in over 400 journals, reviews, anthologies, books and chapbook and recently she has had work accepted on online magazines. Her latest chapbook NOTES OF A HUMAN WAREHOUSE ENGINEER was published in 1998 by Liquid Paper Press. A chap and CD titled LATE NIGHT IN THE PSYCH WARD is due out soon.

INTERVIEW

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Anna: Looking back at your poem, "Indian Advice to the Sick," I think of how spoiled Westerners are. Any minor discomfort has to immediately be checked on by a doctor.

Belinda: Well, it does appear that Asian Indians accept life as it is. Of course, when they are sick they want to get better, but they are not in the habit of running to a doctor. Though they know numerous home remedies, many will suffer it out because part of their philosophy emphasizes that one deserves what one gets. However, they do have hope, and they do have many gods. That's why the poem says to pray to this god and pray to that god. It makes them feel better psychologically, even though this will not do much for their bodies. They tend to have an aptitude simply for accepting things. I do not think the Western World will ever fully incorporate this attitude. Before modern science and medicine, I believe that mankind pretty much accepted what came along the way. However, when this side of the world became more technologically advanced, seeking instant cures and quick fixes, we lost those natural tendencies. I don't think we can go backwards.

A: You mention heaven in some of your poems. Where do you believe heaven exists?

B: I do not truly embrace an ideology, though I see good aspects in many. Like Joseph Campbell, I believe that all myths have much in common. I do not need an ideology to say that heaven and hell are just two ideas that deal with our state of life right here. Hell days are created when we feel rotten, and heaven exists when we are really happy. We have a lot of control over how we feel. We can let things get to us and we easily select scapegoats for us to realize this tension. We all do this. Suddenly, a day comes when we really feel blah. However, we create our heaven, and we create our hell. Naturally, some of us have lesser physical and monetary means, but the important thing is between our ears. We have more responsibility than most of us are willing to admit. Heaven can exist and we not see it. If one is in a yucky, grouchy mood, there may be niceness all around going unnoticed; this is a participatory thing. It's happening, and we have to see it happening. When life goes well, we experience a state of heaven on earth. I quoted from the Tao, number 73, "A man with outward courage dares to die, a man with inward courage dares to live." This is a difficult and brave thing...to have inward courage. When one has it, one will have heaven.

A: In, "Clutching the Known," you use black words that invoke a solemn, yet peaceful theme. What exactly were your emotions when you wrote it?

B: This piece hints at Shakespeare, in my mind. However, I did not think this when I wrote it. To me, it is my answer to Hamlet's "To be or not to be"...as if someone is contemplating suicide. I was not depressed when I wrote it, but I was thinking philosophically about the big question: the big mystery. "To die - to sleep; - To sleep! Perchance to dream: - ay, there's the rub;..." If death is like falling to sleep...ah...what if in that sleep we dream, and we do not escape. We know nothing. We do not even know if it is silence. Neither do we know if it is a dream; we simply cannot know. Here is one way of looking at it, and this is a very lonely line, "the voice of wind blows over one's grave./ "Alone" goes into a further phase." A depressed person may think of ending it all, but what if he or she felt even more alone for eternity? “Who would hurry to a higher ignorance” when we do not and cannot know if there is relief. I call this my slightly North Carolinian version of Shakespeare.

A: Exactly what are you saying in “This Morning or in the Night so Extreme”?

B: It’s about opposites. When one transcends, as in a Zen state, he or she is at peace and above all. No one cares about good or bad; it is not even relevant. However, we are all bound to the earth, and we rarely have a Zen experience. We are bound to earth where everything is light, dark, good, bad, hot, cold. Because of these opposites, Joseph Campbell believes everything is evil to someone else. I also believe this. A Christian, who follows all the laws of his or her religion, will break many Islamic rules. The devout Christian becomes a sinner to the Muslim. There is nothing, no matter how one lives, no matter what one believes, and no matter how good one thinks one is that will prevent one from doing evil in the eyes of someone else.

A: Tell me about “Return from Long Beach.”

B: Here are two events occurring at once. I am doing Kung Fu while thinking back of a few days earlier. Well, I now have a more advanced attitude since I have become seriously involved with Kung Fu. This poem marks the beginning of my training. Honestly, I was thinking of how others might see me, and being aware of how others might see me, I saw myself. That’s what I meant when I said “ a spandex hussy from hell.” I do not literally think that I am that. I also seem to be approaching a sort of “Zen” of poetry writing or at least expressing a desire to do so.

A: You seem to have an affinity to Eastern philosophy. Is this true?

B: Yes and no. My way is the Joseph Campbell way. He has no ideology, yet he was one of the most spiritual individuals to have ever existed. I know I agree with many aspects of Buddhism, but not all of them. I like the saying, “To know that you don’t know is the beginning of wisdom.” Once we acknowledge this, we have to deal with the great mystery.

A: “Winter with Burroughs, Woody Allen, and Shakespeare” is a haunting piece. Do these characters, in any way, reflect a “trinity” in your thinking?

B: You brought up something very interesting. I decided to use the imagery of Burroughs, the unusual pondering of the great mysteries by Woody Allen, and Shakespeare’s “Death, where is thy sting?” I do not think, however, that it was happenstance that these people fell into my thinking. I had just seen NAKED LUNCH and an Allen movie. Shakespeare just worked his way in.

A: Feel free to boast. Do you think anyone can write as well as a “spandex hussy from hell?”

B: Each writer can only write from the standpoint of his or her own experience, where everything is filtered through their being. I can only put myself on paper and hope that it speaks to others as well. I wish for readers to take this inside their knowledge and use it some way, but I cannot speak like a Buddha (laughs). I love this story about a Buddhist, who had a following waiting for him to speak. Everyone remained quiet, and as the Buddhist began to open his mouth a bird sang. “That is the speech,” he said. When one transcends, there are no words. So I have not transcended while I am still writing (laughs), but it shows my path toward it and my working with the mystery and day to day life...I am walking along that path.

Other tidbits: Her archives are housed at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque at the Center for Southwest Research. She currently enjoys sculpting and painting as much as writing. She is a RN in "real life."