We recently had the chance to connect with Jane Glasser and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Jane, thank you so much for joining us today. We’re thrilled to learn more about your journey, values and what you are currently working on. Let’s start with an ice breaker: What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
My best escape from the bullying clock of ordinary living, (the must do’s of appointments, schedules, routines), is when I find myself in my studio, in front of my pc, and words and images start spilling out spontaneously. I call this free writing that is initiated by something awakening in my mind or heart. When a poem begins emerging on paper, nothing exists except the next word, the next word. Sometimes composing feels like falling into a trance, a dance between the conscious and the unconscious, as I write, revise, discovering my subject, discovering meaning. When I stop, I am always shocked to find that the clock has raced forward without me, like a riderless steed.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I believe I was born with the genes to create something. Ever since I was a teenager, I learned that poetry was my private language, tutored by the works of poets I admired. Particularly when I was upset, interrupted by something sharp and hurtful, I took my wound and talked to it on paper. Even as an adolescent I learned that writing a poem, even a poorly crafted poem, can transform what is unpleasant, simply by getting it out of my body, giving it shape and sound. The prime example of this is when poem by poem I rescued myself from the horror of my daughter’s fatal car accident in 1996 by writing a book of poetry about loss and grief, entitled “Light Persists,” which won the Tampa Review Prize for Poetry.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who taught you the most about work?
Early on my teachers were other poets. I grew up in lower Manhattan, an area known as Greenwich Village, right next door to Washington Square Park. In the 1960’s this area was a bohemian center for poets and song writers. Many days I would rush home from Barnard High School to roam the streets, spend evenings in smoke-filled cafes listening to poets share their work. Eighth Street was lined with book stores that were filled with poetry. I started a collection of poets I admired, which now spans a wall in my study. The first class I took on writing poetry was at Sweet Briar College. My creative writing teacher Philip Legler was the first poet to encourage my work. Subsequently, while getting a Masters in Humanities at Old Dominion University, the Pulitzer-Prize winning Poet W.D. Snodgrass was hired as a visiting poet. I knew his work, having studied “Heart’s Needle” when he came to Sweet Briar to give a reading. I took all of his classes and under his supervision was allowed to produce a book of poetry in lieu of a thesis. His influence as a promoter of what was called “confessional poetry,” had and continues to have a great impact on my writing. My first book of poetry, “Naming the Darkness, has an introduction by this masterful poet and teacher.
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
After getting a degree in philosophy from Sweet Briar, I married Richard Glasser, who had just graduated from the University of Virginia Law School. After sixteen years and two daughters, I broke my Mother’s heart by divorcing him. He was the Jewish mensch I was programmed to marry, a highly respected and successful lawyer. He was so fully devoted to his work, representing workers who had mesothelioma from exposure to asbestos in law suits to companies who hid what they knew about the deadly effects of their products. Intimacy fell out of our relationship. My poem “The Blanket” from my first book was foretelling:
The wind whips at the window.
I set my dial—a tropic eight.
This dual control, your gift to us.
I like it temperate.
I turn to my poetry; you,
your legal papers, briefs.
After the news one cool leg
trespasses on my zone of sleep.
But I can’t sleep. Instead, I take
some hidden novel from the drawer;
Colette, Sagan—no matter—
the plots are singular:
An elegant though aging lady
(her husband out of town)
takes to their bed a lover.
I turn the dial down.
You turn away in dreams.
The wind whines through the night
like a lonely heroine.
I cannot set you right.
I was drawn to a group of creative writers and artists and eventually had a six-year affair with an artist who was brilliant, romantic and passionate. I gave up the life of a wealthy wife to discover how I wanted to live.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What important truth do very few people agree with you on?
Every life matters. Anything that is alive has the same right to exist as I do. This is my practice,
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. When do you feel most at peace?
Nature is my healer, my teacher, my muse, my peaceful place. When I find myself anxious or distressed, I take myself outside for a walk. I inhale the scented drapery of crape myrtles, talk to squirrels who answer with the semaphore of happy tails, delight in the display of royal poinciana orange blooms the wind floats down to pointilate lawns. I collect images that fuel my poems that oftentimes instruct me about human nature. Here’s a poem, “Ode to the Wind” from “Shadow Dancing” that performs such instructions which result in cleansing the mind.
Your hands at my back,
knowing the benefit of encouragement,
urge me forward.
Your hands at my chest,
knowing the virtue of challenge,
tell me to push back.
This way and that way
my long black hair
sails the air with abandon,
my eyes, my mouth, my mind
washed clear
from the weight of my thoughts.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.janeellenglasser.com
- Other: jegpoet@gmail.com
Image Credits
no image credits necessary
