The Same Dirt Road through the Woods

Failed to mention that this last November, I was interviewed by The Fertile Source. One question in particular struck a chord with me due to the nature of the query.

FS: In “As A Figure of Hermes” the narrator open with the writer’s dilemma: “A moment of confrontation: me and the blank paper,” dilemma enough without the presence of a child to raise and love and imagine a life for over the rest of one’s days. Eventually the narrator latches onto the metaphor of Hermes, sliding into reverie about mortal son. Can you speak to the relationship between fatherhood and writing? How has fatherhood come to bear on your writing life?

DGS: With the experience of becoming a father last year, and the whole process of the adoption of our son Brendan, I quickly fell into a mode of redefining myself. Almost immediately a whole new understanding of my goals and aspirations emerged—I know it sounds cliché, but once the title of Father is attributed to you, a strange mindset develops without warning: no matter how much mental preparation you are supplied.

The poem in particular was a projection of a future possibility once Brendan reached his middle teen years—written before a birth mother had even matched with us. What I find interesting, although the projection of him as a dark-haired boy is inaccurate, my fear of a loss of communication with him is very similar to the fear of losing touch with my creative energies. Once, in the mid Nineties, I experienced a long spell of writer’s block, partly self-imposed, partly circumstance. My fear of the blank page echoes my fear of Brendan not understanding the creative energy of a writer-father.

••• At the time I left my answers somewhat short— however, ironically, more than once a full multi-page essay could have been generated as a response. As an example, I realize my fear of writer's block is the same fear of possible failure as a father— and until now— I never connected the two feelings. My above reply limits my reactions in a self-centered manner, that is, I address Brendan's emotions towards me, rather than addressing my emotions returned to him. To be more balanced I should add that of course as a writer I have a relationship with my poetry, just as intense as my relationship with my son. At one time I thought the two were separate from each other, running different paths, heading off in different directions. Now of course it is plain that the two elements run along the same dirt road through the woods, the same goal, the same resolution. My son has become my poetry, more-so than any metaphor could express.

It all comes down to identity and definition of the self. The titles of "poet" and "father," even "partner," "son," and "brother," braid together within the components of self awareness and creative output; these multiple labels in the end are all reaffirming who I am today.

Read the full interview: http://fertilesource.com/2011/11/possible-futures-poetry-puerto-rico-and-adoption-with-david-glen-smith/