Philadelphia-based poet and performer Lora Mathis feels everything, and those feelings run like a current through their entire body of work. Mathis’s art and writing is informed by their theory of “radical softness as a weapon,” which proposes that within a society that prioritizes a lack of emotions, sharing emotions openly and vulnerably is a political move. Listening to one’s emotions offers a path towards healing, and being tender with oneself and one’s feelings is the only way that healing can be realized. Embracing and sharing one’s vulnerability, Mathis argues, is the opposite of weakness. In fact, it is a method through which one can build strength and power.
Lora Mathis’s work is widely shared online, through Tumblr and Instagram. Their openness serves as a model for thousands of others who know what it feels like to be overlooked because of their own powerful reactions and sensitivities. In this interview, we talked about how mental illness shapes their work, what radical softness means in the current political climate, and the challenges of being a real person who shares so much of themselves online.
Lora Mathis is the author of several zines and and chapbooks, and their second book, instinct to ruin, was published in February 2017.
How has your experience as a neuroatypical person shaped your theory of radical softness?
This has shaped my perception of everything; my work is only one affected aspect. Radical Softness was created as a way to combat my intrusive thoughts from mental illness. I do not think I would have made this work if I was not mentally ill. It is a direct response to trauma and mental illnesses, which are both intertwined for me.
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Have you reconsidered the incorporation of the word “weapon” in your theory? What are your current thoughts on it?
I was told that the use of “weapon” could be triggering to some and have been back and forth on it since. I originally included it because I wanted to demonstrate the strength in softness, and how it is a powerful tool to smash stigma. Right now, I am for including it, because “radical softness” by itself does not fully construe what I want it to-which is fighting back and recognizing the power in what is construed as weak in society.
What are the challenges of offering your emotions in a public space like the Internet?
A lot of people will respond to me talking about trauma by privately sharing theirs with me or asking for advice. I used to answer people asking me for advice more often than I do now. I’m often in a caretaker role with people I have a developed relationship with and had to set boundaries with how much of other other’s emotional weights I can carry. Taking on strangers’ emotional hardships can be draining, but I do appreciate others feeling as though they can trust me.
The Internet is a draining pool to pour your feelings into. I feel so much gratitude for the attention I have received for being emotionally vulnerable, but it can be exhausting. The act of creating my work is one of healing, but sharing it can mean digging up the experiences repeatedly. I’m tired and am figuring out how to set boundaries. Right now, when I have a vulnerability hangover, I will go into hiding for a bit and disengage from my relationships, social media, anything social. It’s not a good system. I give, give, give, and then isolate.
I try to consistently ego check myself and remind myself that what matters is the work. It is what I should pour myself into, what I need to cultivate. Through it, I grow. My self-work is not done in bright spaces surrounded by lots of people. It doesn’t need an audience. It is shadowed and done in quiet spaces. It requires listening, assessing what my barriers to communication or empathy are then cutting them down, and remaining present. The Internet is a great tool for communication and sharing yourself, but it’s not the world.
How does your online presence impact your life as a real living, working person?
Whenever I stop to think about this for long enough, I get pretty anxious and want to delete all traces of myself online. I’m really lucky to be able to support myself almost entirely through my art right now. My online presence has definitely made that career, which is my ideal work. I also work a business job where I am lucky enough to have my voice prioritized. They know that I make art and use the Internet to promote myself, but I never really talk about my creative work. My boss respects my privacy and has said that he doesn’t need to know anything more than what is relevant to my job. It’s terrifying to know someone could do a tiny amount of Internet prying and found out what’s in my head & what trauma I’ve gone through. Once you put your secrets online, you don’t have permission with who hears them anymore.
Stay Soft print available for purchase.
When I saw you speak, I admired how up front you were about some of your privileges, which included being white and from a fairly upper class background, in framing the place from where your theory is coming. Why is it especially important to name your privileges?
My privileges affect my perception and inevitably bleed into my work. Though my main attempt in creating work is to express myself, my work urges others to connect with their own emotions. I therefore find it especially necessary to be transparent about the place I, and the work, is coming from when I approach vulnerability.
What were your biggest influences when you first began writing poetry, and who are your influences now?
I hate to say it, but some of the first poetry I encountered was Bukowski. I am so thankful I have outgrown someone I loved as a teenager. I had no clue that there was so much better poetry than what gross old white men were writing.
Today my biggest influences are: CA Conrad, Yerbamala Collective, SBTL CEILING, Eileen Myles, and Alice Bag.
What advice do you have to give to teenage artists who are coming of age in this climate, and possibly making work about it?
Remain vocal, resilient, and angry. Be in conversation with your feelings; increasing your emotional intelligence is a way to increase your empathy and communication muscles. Speak honestly. If you are terrified about what you are writing (or creating) that’s a good indicator you’re telling the truth. When you feel overwhelmed and like you can’t go on, take a break. Don’t beat yourself up if you can’t make anything for awhile. Read. Engage with others’ art. Ask for help. And when you feel stable and full of energy, help others.
Your voice is important. Your story is important and necessary to tell. Channel overwhelming feelings into work. Believe in the power of poetry. Believe in the magik of art. Believe in connection, in self-growth, and in community.
Inhumanity available for purchase.
Do you revisit old work, and if so why?
There are times when my emotions are a shapeless, slimy blob slipping out of my hands whenever I try to hold them. Then I will stumble across an old poem of mine which perfectly encompasses what I am feeling and will be validated. Remembering that I am consistently re-feeling the same aches can be comforting, terrifying, and humbling. I am comforted to know that I have experienced similar aches in the past and survived them; I am terrified to come back to them no matter how much progress I seem to make; I am humbled knowing that my growth is constant. I keep re-learning that growth is not linear. It happens in waves.
When do you find yourself making the best art?
I make my best art when I am experiencing a moment of clarity amongst overwhelming feelings. Also, coffee and loneliness help a lot. I have made too many things because I felt isolated and didn’t want to text anybody.
What’s a day in your life like?
I’ve been spending a lot of time alone, conducting small rituals in the security of my bedroom. That’s a pretty way to say I’ve been hiding. I have so much to learn on communicating large amounts of emotions, but am trying to take care of my inner child, which is a always-present piece of me that is hurting and needs validation. At the same time, I’m trying to feed the wiser, intuitive side of me that is able to ground my waves of feelings. Taking time for myself is necessary so I can come back swinging. I’m keeping my head down and working on myself.
What current projects are you working on?
I spent March completing a lot of projects, being a host to visiting friends, and going on two mini tours. Now I’m trying to take a breath. I’m focusing on music and writing some new stuff with my band FEMSPLAINER. I’m also trying to keep writing and taking photos. Later in the month I’ll be performing poetry at Get Better Fest in Philly & showing photos at the show “More Delicate Things” in Pittsburgh.
Emotions postcard available for purchase.
What did you heal in 2016, and what remains to be healed in 2017?
There is so much I need to heal. 2016 was a time of letting go and of loss for me. Many dreams I was living inside of fell apart. I learned that I am okay in periods of uncertainty, that it is okay to just focus on keeping your head up in big moments of pain, that moving forward is lonely but necessary, that feelings you push down will resurface sooner or later, that pain is survivable, that I am adaptable.
In 2017, I am now learning that I cannot be who everybody wants me to be. Nor should I try to be. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to be the object that can fill any void in anybody’s life and it’s caused me to overlook a lot of my own needs. I’m trying to focus on setting boundaries and not being everything for everybody.
Last question: what was the last thing you read, you watched, and you listened to?
“Jane: A Murder” by Maggie Nelson, Franny Choi’s “Whiteness Walks Into A Bar,” and “Francis Forever” by Mitski.