Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Rosa. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Rosa, appreciate you joining us today. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?

A context that I’m sure rings true for many, many creatives — I was an awkward kid. I was full of big feelings that I had difficulty communicating, so I just didn’t. I spent most of my time hiding away, usually in the corner of the school library with one book or another. But my relationship with stories and art was primarily escapism and my only goal was distraction. So I viewed reading and art as primarily passive, solitary acts. But that changed when my aunt gifted me a collection of old Nancy Drew books, the first thirty from the original series. I wish I could say I was good and started from “The Secret of the Old Clock”, but I picked the book I thought had the coolest cover: “The Ghost of Blackwood Manor”.

But regardless, it was like a switch flipped. There was no way that I could follow Nancy’s investigations and allow myself to be passive. I was enchanted by the intrigue of the premises, almost otherworldly in their presentation, and Nancy’s subsequent ability to unravel it into a comprehensible case. I think part of the appeal for me was that it gave me a framework for dealing with my own anxieties; that I could contextualize and deconstruct perspectives I once deemed incomprehensible. Either way, I became an active reader, and quickly realized that whatever I did, it had to involve storytelling. I wanted to write cool things that made you think, and create interesting art to go alongside it.

Rosa, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I am a writer, artist and recently published author of “Sleepwalk Into Eternity”, a collection of surrealist and gothic poetry. My work is for people into the New Weird side of fantasy, and for those of us who like to get cozy in strange and liminal alternate realities. You could think of what I write as eldritch romance and parables of the weird.

My appreciation for poetry is relatively new. I always liked it and took classes in college, but I greatly preferred writing fiction. One of the things that drastically changed my relationship with poetry was the death of my grandmother. After the funeral, my mother and I were going through her closet, and we discovered a binder full of journal entries. And tucked away in there were poems she had written throughout the years. I had always known that my grandmother loved stories; it was a passion she passed down to her children and a joy my mother shared with me. But knowing isn’t seeing. In those poems was a woman I hadn’t known; a cheeky writer who wove riddles into her poetry. It was an overwhelming experience. There was another wave of grief, for a person I felt I never properly met. But there was also a renewal of perspective. I could still look for her, in those poems.

My goal with my art is ultimately just that– the renewal of perspective. My philosophy is a bit romantic at its core; I enjoy writing pieces encouraging readers to find beauty in the horror. A bit of a grisly description, but my interpretation of this has less to do with a fascination of the macabre itself (though, I admit, that fascination lingers in the things I create), and more to do with holding onto a transformative mindset in the face of sadness or fear.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Perfectionism. That’s it, that’s the answer, ha.

When I was around 23, I found a note I wrote to myself in high school. It was addressed to the 25-year-old version of myself, and it read, “You better have written a book by now!” The discovery left me in a panic. I was nowhere near finishing a book, and I only had two years left to do it! I obsessed over it, started outlining, wrote a few pages, didn’t like what I had written, and then promptly abandoned it.

This was cyclical. I spent so much of my twenties burying myself in busywork. I did a lot of freelance work, took a lot of classes, and started a lot of projects. But I felt like I was going nowhere. I had internalized a very specific image of success, and anything that deviated from that, I deemed a proof of failure. Of course, life is nothing but deviations, especially in the world of art. But my thoughts were always on my unfulfilled potential, and how each move I made took me further and further away from where I was “meant” to be. The irony was that my obsession with fictional futures left me very little room to appreciate the opportunities, connections, and people I already had in my life. Perfectionism left me frozen, unable to grow, unable to strategize, and unable to communicate. I couldn’t move the pieces I had lined up on the board, because I hadn’t taken the time to learn the game.

Putting aside my perfectionism was extremely hard. Letting go of what I “should be” was even harder. But ultimately, meeting myself in the middle gave me the ability to move forward and complete goals I had deemed unreachable before. And, it opened me to creative directions I hadn’t allowed myself to fully explore. Like writing a book of poetry.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

A bit cheesy, but I love the conversational aspect of art– the connection between the artist and the audience. It’s such an abstract and ephemeral line of communication, but it’s there. A conversation that can last for years or for just a moment.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://rosachristina.com/
• Instagram: thereapersrequiem