"A good poet aches, lusts or takes risks. Gabriela does all three"
Desmond Morris, zoologist, surrealist painter and poet, author of The Naked Ape
Gabriela Anaya Valdepeña, was born in Mexico City in 1963, moved with her family to Texas at the age of six, and has been living in San Diego since 1996. Her first language was Spanish, which she eventually forgot, having to relearn it as an adult with the help of Mexican novelas. Valdepeña managed to spurn the muse until she was 33, when inspiration possessed her while ironing her husband's shirt. She soon began to ignore her chores, scribbling, reading, and becoming a very lazy cook, though the steady diet of Plath, Paz, and Baudelaire soon made her fat with metaphor. Divorce followed, as did both independence and insecurity. But with the encouragement of friends, mentors, and her new Canadian husband, Valdepeña has continued to follow her private muses, wherever they might lead her.
Valdepeña has published several chapbooks, as well as two substantial poetry collections. The first of these, Exaggerated Gender Signals, was published by Darkness Visible Books in 2003. The most recent collection, Welcome, Eavesdropper, (Darkness Visible books/Dpress 2005) was awarded the San Diego Book Award for best poetry in 2006. Valdepeña has recently collaborated with the poet Richard Denner on Roses of Crimson Fire, an Epistolary novel in prose, verse, and image, which will be released in 2007. Also to be released in 2007 is Twenty Poems Against Love and a Song for the Air, a collaboration with the poet and artist Chris Vannoy. Valdepeña is also a dancer and photographer. She has performed throughout Southern California and in Texas, and her photography is regularly exhibited in juried shows and galleries, including the Museum of the Living Artist in San Diego.
Valdepeña has described her art as follows:
For me, the different art forms that I explore-poetry, photography, and dance-do not compete, but mutually inspire. Poetry gives me a feeling for the narrative implied by an image; dance makes me aware of the grace inherent in a simple gesture; photography allows me to bring this drama and this beauty together with a compelling immediacy.
In my photography I am usually my own model, and in my poetry I pretend to be myself. This is both the heart of the matter and a matter of convenience. There are multiple characters, multiple worlds, within every soul, and if I reveal the many sides of myself I can reveal the many sides of us all. As Walt Whitman said in Song of Myself: "do I contradict myself? very well then, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes."
I am not a diary; I am an alchemist with a word. I am not a photographer; I am a liar with a camera. I do not wish to capture a moment, but an eternity.
Valdepeña is currently at work on her next collection, Poems that Kill, which will combine her written and visual art in an ongoing marriage of word and image.
". . .like the work of Baudelaire her work is partial, passionate, and political. And, like Baudelaire, her poetry reveals a "naiveté" (a personal temperament) which leads us towards the sublime, the intimate, and the spiritual."
Richard Denner, poet, artist, publisher of dPress
The Day's Peak With your entourage of dust devils, you arrive at the day's peak. The damaged day. Damascus is lost. Mexico City-- maudlin clouds, dirty pillows, oxygen tanks, cigarettes. Women wrapped in flames. I climb a pyramid. At this height, nothing can hurt, not even the fall. You with your accent from sleeping worlds. One shot. I use all my words in one sentence. You reject me for simplicity, brevity-- I can't say enough about this. The last step. I spread my arms like a charmed bird. You are the first god, the third man, the last animal. What significance does one number have over another-- a face? a word? Tribute To the Dark Where did my wisdom bury itself? Why This arterial fantasy wrought in its disdain? Yes, I left, After your arsonous kisses consumed my art; though bearing Still greater tributes to the dark. And yes, I return to you On the birth of every new world against the sea's chances; I lend Sentence to your breath and put to pen your pulse. But to what end This love, nose diving, refusing to eject? The mandolin commands More of your skin than I. Who am I to navigate felicity? I will eat your mindless peace, fornicate with your perception. Do not remember one line. When light defies light, nothing is Worthy of a quote. Can you feel worthy of my gaze? Deny me, That I may push more strongly against your ribs. I am empty. I am weakened by truth. I am stronger than your memory, more pale Than the skull's cheek. I am alive, unwise, and afraid of nothing.
Selections from the collection Poems That Kill, as well as further information and other samples from her work, can be found at http://www.liarwithacamera.com.