BCC Shines a Light On: Andreea Ceplinschi
Name of the piece published by BCC:
A Song of Life as the Sum of All Parts
When/where was it originally published:
Originally published in the 2019 print issue of Prometheus Dreaming as a finalist of the Prometheus Unbound poetry prize.
Tell us more about your piece! What is the background of the piece? What led you to write it? What’s your process?
Death is always present in some from in my writing and for a while now I’ve been writing drafts in both fiction and poetry that explore the idea of “death with dignity” not only for the terminally ill, but for those who might just feel terminal. I know, thin ethical line between a reasonable debate and glorifying suicidal ideation, but I believe writing exists as a tool to toe that line. This poem is only one of the many ways I’ve approached the subject and perhaps the most reasonable way I’ve ever approached it. The piece is rooted in my mother’s true end-of-life experience with cancer. After her death, her mother, my grandmother who just turned 94 this year, told me she’s grateful my mother died because towards the end that was no life to live. It hurt my grandmother and my father, the live-in caregivers, how long it took for it to end, as much as (or maybe because) they both loved my mother. I wrote this poem for my grandmother. Everything in it is true and not a poem at all, out of my own inability to find comforting words when what I truly wanted to say was “sometimes things just don’t want to let go,” images of dandelions growing out of concrete cracks flashing uncomfortably through my mind. My grandmother never shared how she felt about the year leading to my mother’s death with anyone but me. My grandmother doesn’t speak English and she’ll never read this poem. But she knows me well enough to know I wrote this poem.
How did you feel when it was first published and how have your thoughts or feelings on the piece changed from then to now?
I never really expected to share this poem. I submitted it for feedback in a workshop years ago and they suggested that the shooting intro was inappropriate and a bit of a cheap trick for shock value. I agreed with them, but also knew I would never cut that intro because though some feedback might be true, it’s not always actionable in a way that resonates with the writer. I added the poem to my Graveyard folder and also submitted it to three contests as I was in the process of gathering deliberate rejections to overcome my submission dread. I was surprised when it made it into the Prometheus Unbound finalist print anthology, shooting and all. I must admit I did make a few edits from the original after it was published, but only minor technical edits. That’s something I do to every single piece, published or not, I just NEVER finish editing – and THAT is my process.
I’m happy that this particular poem re-emerged with Bulb Culture Collective, intro still as I originally wrote it, at a time when military and civilian gun violence is at a global all-time high. While it might seem like a gruesome endeavor to watch a video of a death by shooting, I want the social media de-sensitized reader to perhaps grasp the agonizing concept of seven minutes of actively dying. We live in a decaying socio-political environment where a large percentage of people are actively dying as a result of violence and another percentage is terminal, hospice-bound, wishing for death. The agony feels infinite in either case.
Is there a specific message you would like readers to take away from reading this piece?
This poem isn’t meant to comfort or draw any conclusions, but I’m hoping it elicits a feeling of any kind with the reader. Feelings are great tools for change. I’m not saying that this poem could inspire an anger that drives social change, but maybe a twinge of hurt that inspires a small act of kindness to honor and balance out the rage in this relentless, desperate life.
What else would you like to tell readers about your writing? (Doesn’t have to refer only to your BCC piece)
My work is always the product of chaos. It’s hard to describe, and it’s perhaps because I haven’t yet found my voice. The best way I can describe it at the moment is “middle-aged woman in constant crisis.”
Where can readers find more of your work? (Website/social media, etc)
www.poetryandbookdesign.com
