Blogger's note: I've known Jari Thymian, the poet who wrote a chapbook called The Meaning of Barns for a couple of years now, through the Denver Woman's Press Club. After reading her new collection of poetry, I thought it'd be fun to interview her. Thanks for the read.
You grew up on a dairy farm in Minnesota and spent the first six years of your schooling at a country school. When did you move to Colorado and how does your childhood influence your writing?
Jari: I moved to Colorado in 1986 and didn't start taking my writing seriously until about 1995. Not until I put this chapbook together did I see how many of the images from childhood appear in my writing --- even those unrelated in subject matter.
How does it contrast to your experience of Colorado?
Jari: Minnesota is damp, green, rolling hills, prairies, lakes, fields. The air often smells humid and earthy. Colorado is dry, not so green, little water, and mountainous. Colorado prairies are covered in yucca and cacti. The Colorado landscape in many ways seems opposite of Minnesota's. I like both. Over time, I think I've become more aware of how my farm experience shaped me as a person and a poet. That was really a surprise to me because I spent my younger years trying to hide my country-ness.
In
The Meaning of Barns, your chapbook of poetry released this July by
Finishing Line Press, some of your poems look at physical structures like barns and schools and treehouses. Each of them conveys memories and most step into your personal history or reflect the worlds children live in.
A Treehouse Without Nails is one of my favorites: "The children leave, but never forget how/ to climb or lose gravity."
Jari: Thank you.
It seems that
Waiting Until the Price Goes Up is one of your schoolhouse poems that departs from the rest and gives us a more adult perspective. I think it has a punchline-type ending with a feminist feel to it. Tell us about what inspired that poem and what it means to you to have written it and shared it with your readers.
Jari: It was inspired by a couple different stories I heard.
I like the parallels and the irony in the poem. I like the story also because the woman was very brave. I've often thought about how hanging on too tightly to something or someone produces the opposite of the desired outcome. I've certainly been guilty of that myself.
Another poem from
The Meaning of Barns hinges on the death of a farmer. Is
What Better Place inspired by someone you knew?
Jari: The poem was inspired by an incident about my father who died of cancer a couple years ago.
What Better Place
After a lifetime of squatting
morning and night to milk cows,
the old farmer fell. Knees
and hips gave out. Moist
earth cushioned him and he thought
it's not too bad here -- clouds, bright sky, warm
August sun. Hours
later, his wife found
him lying in the roadside
ditch in a forest of cattails.
The son lifted
him under the armpits
as if he were as light
as a child.
Shoulda left
me there, the old
one said to the young.
What better place for a farmer
to die than in a ditch.
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Can you share the story behind writing that poem?
Jari: I wrote from a place of great sadness. In a short time, my father's physical strength declined. His medications affected both his body and mind. A couple times my mother found him collapsed outside the house unable to get up without assistance. During his illness, I saw how very emotionally strong and even humorous he could be in spite of horrible suffering. His courage in the dying process will always be an inspiration to me. Thanks for asking that question.
Your bio mentions that you have completed several triathlons. How many triathlons have you done and when did you decide to do them?
Jari: I've completed 8 sprint distance triathlons. A friend invited me to try triathlons in 1999. My response was "over my dead body." On Dec. 27th of that year, I wound up in the emergency room for a severe allergic reaction to an antibiotic. While hooked to an IV, I realized that I didn't even know this body that was rebelling against itself. I experienced one of those defining moments. A couple weeks later, I joined CWW here in Denver which trains women to do triathlons. I did my first one in 2000. I haven't done events in a couple years, but I continue to swim, bike, run, and weight train. I fell in love with exercise.
Why have you bicycled across Kansas three times?
Jari: One morning when I was on a training ride for my first triathlon, I remembered my dream to cycle across South Dakota on my AMF 10-speed (in 1972). I never did it. After completing my first year of triathlons, I decided to add a new challenge. A friend had done the
Biking Across Kansas close to 20 times. So, I believed I could ride 500 miles in 8 days
. Kansas is a beautiful state. The role Kansas played in the war against slavery is historically rich. A lot of people who don't ride bike say Kansas is flat. Ha! The eastern half is very hilly, far from flat -- especially on a bike. I'd recommend the ride.
Who did you cycle with?
Jari: 900 other riders of all ages from around the US.
My role models were the 80-plus year-olds who rode every mile.
And will you do it again?
Jari: I'm enticed by many other organized rides in the US and in other countries. So, Kansas isn't on my list at the moment.
Can we expect to see poems from you about your triathlon and bicycle endeavors?
Jari: Maybe. I've actually thought about a collection of those poems. I have one titled
A Woman on a Bicycle.
How is writing about bicycles different than writing the poems that have made up
The Meaning of Barns?
Jari: Writing about cycling, swimming and running starts with a similar feeling of epiphany I think, but the details come more from my body awareness or physical wisdom. I'm currently working on a full-length book of ekphrastic poetry, poetry about other works of art.