A Conversation with Natalia Perkins, ‘19

     

Photo of Natalia Perkins

Interviewed by Cressida Roe ‘21

What started you on writing?

When I was a little kid in elementary school, we would write stories and that was my favorite thing to do for class. One of the first stories I ever wrote was about our town getting captured in a snow globe by a witch. My story writing never really evolved from that, and I prefer writing poetry now.

What are your favorite styles?

I like reading free verse, but I’m also a fan of classical poetry like Tennyson. I’m taking a class on Milton right now and I’m really enjoying that. There’s no rhyme scheme, but it’s epic. And it’s interesting thinking about a longer poem that has more of a story.

Tell me about this piece you’re sharing.

The title of this poem, “Goodnight, Baby” is the same as a Tom Petty song that my mom sang to me every night before I went to bed through my whole childhood. The last two lines of it are the last two lines of the song. So it’s about my relationship with my mom. I’m very close to her. She raised me as a single mother until middle school/high school, so we’re very close. She also wrote a lot of poetry in college, and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to write something about her. She inspired me.

What’s your process from beginning to end of making a piece?

The process is very stream of consciousness. I have a bit of something that I think of and that start things flowing and I’ll improvise as I go. Sometimes I’ll just have a bit for a while, but I’ll keep those bits around and come back to them. It was also helpful being in a poetry course that forced me to write, because I might not finish things if they aren’t due! The great thing about the course too was getting feedback from the people who read it. A lot of time when you write something especially personal poetry, it might make sense to you because you have information that the reader doesn’t.

So would you describe your style as very emotionally driven?

I would definitely say so. If there are prompts for a class that are specifically inspired by another work–like ekphrastic poetry–that’s external, but a lot of what I come up with on my own is my own experiences.

How has Smith impacted your work?

Being at Smith has definitely helped me in my poetry because of the poetry workshops and classes I’ve taken. I may not have written the amount that I have now otherwise. And it’s great how many classes are available. I also really appreciate that we don’t have a core curriculum, because you can take more classes in what you’re interested in, even if they’re not related to your major.

What other mediums inspire you? Art? Music?

There was one project–one poem that I wrote for the first poetry class I took here, where we went to the museum of art and chose a piece that we were inspired by and wrote about it. The exciting thing about paintings is, because they’re stagnant, you can create a story around it–the landscapes and the people and what they mean. Music is also something that inspires me. I’m president of the ukulele club, play alto sax, and used to be in an acapella group. So sometimes I’ll write songs too, which is like poetry in a lot of ways.

What place does art and creativity have in your life?

Art has a pretty good place in my life. I wish I exposed myself to more. Most of what I’m exposed to is literature, and I want to make more time for that. The humanities are very important in education.

What do you find appealing in literature?

I like to read things with complex characters and interesting storylines. When there’s a plot twist that you didn’t expect. In poetry, I like poetry that’s not too esoteric. I like it when it’s accessible but still has room for interpretation. There’s someone like Rupi Kaur–you can read her book in half an hour. But with more abstract work–that’s too far on the other side of the spectrum.

Do you have any current projects going?

I wish I was working. I’m hoping to write more music. I have a few songs now and I’d like to record them and put out an EP. That’s the only creative thing going on right now. My sister is very into graphic design, so I’d love to do a project with her–writing a comic and having her illustrate it. That would be really cool. Another project happening is that my friend is a book studies concentration, and her made one of my poems into a book. It was like a joint project. So collaboration can work in different ways. That poem that was inspired by her got accepted by Voices and Visions. It’s a journal for women’s colleges and high school’s art and poetry.

Where do you see yourself and your poetry in 10 years?

Well, my best friend from high school was voted most likely to be president, so my mom joked that when she is, I’d be poet laureate. But that’s just a pipe dream of course. I’d like to continue working on poetry and going to workshops and not let it slip away because it’s something I really enjoy.

What is your wisdom?

Sometimes you have to sacrifice the facts of your story, if you’re writing about personal experiences, in order for it to be a good poem. No one ever said poetry has to be “true.” Though I do get caught up in wanting to say what “really” happened. But it’s also fun to leave it ambiguous. In one of my poems, you don’t know what happens to the character. You have a lot of freedom that way. And power.

Goodnight, Baby

is what you sang to me each night, long before the menagerie
of our family, when Diet Coke cans looked different.

Like so many songs sung by ones I love, your smiling strain squeezed
my hand and heart much harder than the autotuned stranger.

In those days, it was just you and me and the words you gave me, wrapped
in blankets while you hunched over my Little Tikes car bed,

sore with devotion. Sometimes we still fight:
No, you’re prettier, smarter; your penmanship is best.

I don’t know how I got your y’s and g’s, bounding
into the future, so sure of themselves, when it was my kindergarten Miss

who taught me the alphabet. Your letters and your wrists
are much thinner than mine, vertical and unwavering, vowing

that We’re alright for now.
We’re alright for now.