Rafter Snap: Marianne Murphy Zarzana
"The arts feed us and connect us"
One Sunday a month, I take a break from my Staying Power column to present a “Rafter Snap.” Each Snap features a Rafter so that you can get better acquainted and even be inspired by his or her story.
This week I’d like you to meet Marianne Murphy Zarzana from South Bend, Indiana (US). She describes herself as "a poet, educator, documentary filmmaker, hula hooper, wife, mother, grandmother, traveler, and spiritual seeker." She is Associate Professor Emerita of English, Southwest Minnesota State University.
Are you a maker, an arts enthusiast, or both?
Both. I've been a maker since I was a little girl. I come from a very creative family. My mom and dad are both makers. They had six kids—that's an art in itself.
My mom is an artist. And she took us kids to the Art Institute of Chicago for art lessons. (We lived in the suburbs—we had to drive into Chicago on Saturday mornings.) As children, we were looking at Van Gogh, then doing our own imitation Van Goghs. I had my own art portfolio. Some of that artwork is hanging in our home, because it's just so dear.
We're an artsy family—this is just part of who we are. My mom and dad started a Saturday night writing club with us six little kids. You had to write something to come [and eat] this new thing called “pizza,” with Coke! Other nights, at the end of the meal, they would say, “Hey, let's do a story in the round!” One of them would start, then the story would go around to each of us, and somebody would wrap it up.
[Today] my husband Jim Zarzana and I both go to all kinds of art events. We love to support the arts, and there’s also cross-fertilization [that happens]. I love to write ekphrastic pieces while I'm looking at art. That sparks [me to make] something that I didn't even know needed to come out of me.
Who was one of the first creative people to inspire you?
Mom. I mean, she could create anything. She was a second-grade teacher. She'd enlist us kids to do the bulletin boards in [her] classroom. She also was a volunteer with an organization called Community Concerts, and she would get free tickets. She would choose one of us kids to go along. She wouldn't tell us ahead of time, but just say, “Marianne, go put on your dress and your black patent leather shoes.” She didn't want to listen to us whine, “Oh, do I have to go?” So we kids saw world-class [performances] right in our small town.
Why are the arts important for you?
It's like breathing. It's who I am.
The arts feed us and connect us. We need them more than ever. I know I'm just repeating what so many people have said, but the arts—whether music, song, poetry, whatever—they can break down walls and boundaries. They flow like water, and they get around people's resistance.
Above: During COVID, Marianne discovered HoopYogini, which combines hula hooping with hatha yoga and mindfulness meditation. She's becoming certified as an instructor.
What's been one of the most creative skills that you've developed?
Definitely writing. I wrote as a kid, but then I put it aside and kept it in the closet. “Now I gotta make a living.” After I graduated from college, I got a job as a newspaper reporter, then as an editor, then as a communications director . . .
Somewhere along the way, I started getting a lot of sinus infections. I went to a really gifted healer. [And one of the things she suggested I do was] to buy The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, read it, and do all the work. It's a 12-step recovery book for recovering the artist within.
I got the book immediately. I worked as if my life depended upon it, because it really did. I trusted the process. I wrote my morning pages every day, and I've never stopped.
I ended up going back to graduate school at Minnesota State University, Mankato and getting my MFA in Creative Writing, not knowing where it was going to lead. I got a job at Southwest Minnesota State University teaching academic writing, creative writing, journalism, and PR writing.
I retired in December, 2019, and moved with my husband to South Bend, Indiana, which is our spiritual home base. I was ready to stop teaching and grading and really focus on my own writing. Jim and I don't use the word “retirement.” We're both working on our creative projects.
Above: Marianne's "creative cockpit," with art by her daughter, Elaine, a drawing of her grandson Torne, and a photo of her husband, sci-fi author James A. Zarzana, for inspiration
What do you think has been your greatest creative challenge?
So, there's a thing where people paint rocks and leave them places? The idea is that [if you find one,] you keep it awhile, then move it along. So, I found this rock that says “You are enough.” I'm not moving it along. This is mine.
There’s a demon inside me that says, “Yeah, don't even try. You're not enough.” It's always there. You have to learn how to dance with it.
Right now I'm working on a documentary film. And that [inner] voice is saying, “You’re not enough.” And I admit: “Yeah, of course, I'm not enough. I’m a writer, [not a filmmaker].” But guess what? I'm being courageous, and saying “yes.” I’m hugging that little voice of fear and saying, “Okay, I hear you! I know you're always going to be on my bus, and there's room for you. I'm not going to throw you under the bus, because you’re a gift to me in disguise. But I’m not gonna let you drive the bus.”
When the Muse taps me on the shoulder and says, “Hey, I've got a project for you—", for a while I was like, “You got the wrong girl!” But now I get up the courage and put my foot forward. Then the universe is, like, boom! “Okay, here's someone who will do the professional shooting for you. Here's this! Here's that! The help comes!”
Sometimes my biggest creative challenge is my pride. Ego. It never goes away. I have to say, “Yeah, ego, I hear you. But I need help, you know, and it's okay.”
I grew up in a family—and culture—where you don't ask for help. I have broken that cycle for myself. And for my daughter. I'm very good at this point in my life about swallowing my pride and asking for help. But pride still comes up.
What do you want to gain from The Raft?
[I want it to help me] keep that curiosity, that wonder, that life, so things don't get stale! I don't ever want to get stale. I want to keep growing as an artist. I don't want to ever just coast or drift (I guess that's maybe a Rafter metaphor!). Sometimes it’s good just to chill out, but I don't like resting on my laurels.
A sampling of anthologies and literary journals that have published Marianne's poems, including Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems, which I co-edited with Ruby R. Wilson
Thank you, Marianne, for letting us feature you in a Rafter Snap!
Hey, Rafters, what about Marianne's journey resonates with your own? Tell us in the comments. 👇
The Gentle Nudge
Join other Rafters this week for . . .
Poetry Pick-Me-Up (Zoom, Thursday, 12:00-1:00PM Central, at this link)
The article this morning was wonderful and inspiring. Got to get busy and be brave and bold.(or braver and bolder). Loved it