A Conversation with Colette Postaer
Colette Postaer is a poet and journalist based in Chicago. She writes between shifts, drawing inspiration from the nostalgia threaded through the city she grew up in. As the founder and Creative Director of Knotted Lace, a Chicago artist magazine, she creates space to connect with and spotlight the city’s creative voices. Colette’s writing envisions a world rooted in community and shared humanity—one she hopes will someday take center stage.
Colette’s poem, “An Evening With The Nature Museum Pier,” can be read in Issue no. 1 of Sabr Tooth Tiger Magazine.
Imani: Getting into your piece, reading it, it's very succinct, and it packs a punch. I wanted to understand what your inspiration for the piece was, because it doesn't necessarily show immediately through the piece itself.
Colette: I wrote it about a year ago, and the title of it was originally going to be a journal entry, but then I started listening. It was after a shift at the restaurant, and it was a full moon out. Some incentive to stay outside. I hadn't been alone all day, and I just needed a moment of stillness. I stayed up really late that time in my life. So I decided, this place is sort of near my house. It's very nostalgic to me, so I went, and it kind of feels like a beautiful escape. It's covered by trees, and I've never gone that late before. I was just sitting there by myself. The first moment of stillness and absolute silence all day. I was listening to my favorite playlist, Cassandra Jenkins was playing, and I don't know, I just got inspired that way.
When I'm outside, my poetry can be quite reflective, and I start to see Mother Nature as this entity and this person. Especially there. I saw cranes, and I've never seen them that late at night. They were still eating. I saw turtles, and I heard birds. I was like, "Wow, the world really does continue, even when you're not around." I felt like an observer in this space, so I was reflecting on that. That's what this poem was. It feels very much like a person to me. Like I said, I leave no trace. I was hoping to observe, and I feel like I have a lot of poems where I'm sitting outside, hoping that my presence here is accepted by the earth and that I'm not taking up too much space. I feel like I'm very thankful for the trees. I started to become very grateful. It's very grounding.
Imani: You're looking for acceptance from the earth that you are not taking up too much space. What does that acceptance mean to you? How do you get that acceptance, or the lack thereof?
Colette: I don't think that I necessarily deserve it, and I think that's why I go there with a lot of gratitude. Even though I'm using my car, humans create pollution in insane amounts, so I just feel like I'm constantly taking advantage of the one thing that brings me the most peace. It feels like an abusive relationship sometimes, and I go in like, "Oh, please forgive me for all that I've done today." This is just what I have to do. I feel very reflective. I sometimes talk out loud to it.
Imani: So you're just kind of hoping that by what you're doing, you're being as conservative as possible as far as using pollution, and you're hoping that everything accepts you for what you're doing?
Colette: It kind of feels like when you go to church. It's kind of like my form of confession.
Imani: Do you feel in that way—the outdoors and when you're able to experience stillness—that's almost like your sanctuary, or a place that's thankful for you?
Colette: Yeah, it is, and I think it is one of the few things that still reminds me of being a child and my most childlike form. For the most part, I was at my happiest. I have so many wonderful memories of experiencing nature. I'm surrounded by animals, like horses and dogs. Being in that space has always granted me so much peace. I remember in high school, I didn't really talk to my friends about how I was feeling. I would go out into nature, like I already go out, and see the horses or the cows. I lived by a lot of meadows, and I talked to them. I feel like I find a lot of peace there, with things that can't necessarily talk back to me, though they definitely do.
Imani: That's such an attractive idea to me, because a lot of poetry that I end up writing is very human-oriented. So for you to be so guided and inspired by non-human and organic entities—that's very intriguing. That kind of goes to what I was going to ask about your personification. How does that work for you as you develop that into your poems and your relationship to that when it's abiotic?
Colette: I only really recently started sharing my poetry and taking it in a place of like... I studied film in college. I really thought that I was going to be doing something else, and then just nothing worked, and nothing felt good. In moments of stillness or moments by myself, I would pull out my journal or pull out my notes app. Poetry would fill the pages, good or bad. It was so therapeutic for me. It's always been something that I've done.
I think that, opposite to you, I have to push myself to talk about other people or the human experience. It was always just very reflective. This one, I never thought—I posted on a Substack where I changed my name. I didn't want anyone to read it. It feels very natural to me to have conversations with the things around me. Rather than talking to other people and making poetry that way, it's never been collaborative.
Imani: That definitely shows through in your work personally, as you're a community organizer, but I am curious as to how you went from film to publication, then running into your own poetry. What was it that led you all the way up to here? You're starting to be more the voice rather than the production.
Colette: The way that I got there… I hated film, and I still do. There have been a couple projects where I've enjoyed parts of it, but it never fulfilled me. That was easy to let go of. I think as I was getting my degree, I was like, “This is not what I'm going to be doing.” There are some people that I'm working with right now, but this is all they think about, and this is all they care about, and I don't. On film sets, if we were outside, I'd go hit my pen, then I'd go take a walk, then I'd get really melancholy, look outside, and start writing in my notes app. Those are when I had very fulfilling days.
Writing has always been there. It's something that I've always thrived doing. My dad's a writer. I think it's in my blood, but I'd never thought it would be a career. Then post-grad, I got that restaurant job, and I worked every day, insane, intense hours. Every single day, I was exhausted. I had no time to see my friends. There were streaks where I didn't see my roommate for days. I was so isolated, but I thrive in those environments, so I was just writing, writing, writing all the time. Then it got to a point where I was very alone. I really believe in this city and what this can do for artists, and I want to be able to share this with people. I didn't think it was going to be what it is today.
The ethos of it when we were just releasing Knotted Lace was, I needed a community, and I wanted to meet the other artists in Chicago and make friends. I didn't necessarily think that I was going to be at the forefront of it. I wanted to interview other artists for the sake of learning about their art, and then, yay for me, I got to practice my writing. So there was never an a-ha moment other than like, “Wow, I'm working every single day, and I haven't done anything creative in months.” I hated what I studied, so I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I know that I know how to write. Magazines kind of got exciting to me. I also went to this magazine shop in New York, and they just had a bunch of local artists’ magazines. I was like, "These are amazing. I want to try that." I didn't think it was going to be what it is today. I thought I was going to make it all myself. Then I got a graphic designer, and it became something very special.
Imani: That leads me into what the audience seems to really want to know, which is, how did you get started with Knotted Lace, and what inspired you to get into the Chicago literary scene in the way that you did?
Colette: I think the literary scene became a bit more prevalent during the second issue; it was not as writing focused. I mean, I had a lot of writers in the first issue, which is because I like writing, so I like reading other people's poetry. I wanted to learn more about other writers. I didn't think there were a lot of writers in the city. I didn't know about the community, how big it is here. That didn't come until later from a place of isolation and sheer will to create a community for myself. I saw a lot of people that I follow that were mutuals. I was like, "I want to figure out this world that they're creating for themselves." I really like a lot of different kinds of media, but I'm not necessarily good at making them, so I wanted to learn about other people, create a place for them, and therefore create a place for myself.
The second issue is where I started to lean more into the literary scene, and that's also where I started to submit my writing to other things. It's also when I started dating my partner who really pushed me to submit my writing. I got excited after the first issue. People said that they were affected by what I wrote, and it meant something to them. I was like, "Okay, maybe it could be something that I do for myself and hopefully support other people that are part of it in the literary scene." Posting art that I've made myself is still very new, and I'm pushing myself to do that. It feels like I should be writing under an alias. I'm not necessarily comfortable with it yet, but we're getting there.
Imani: An alias? You'd prefer for people to not know it's you, or because you'd prefer to depersonalize it from yourself from the work?
Colette: I think a mix of both like with Knotted Lace. Originally I didn't want my face to be a part of it at all. I just wanted to be like a collective, which I'm trying to get back to, but I think it was important to establish that my team and I created something. Some people don't know that this is the face behind it, but I think, again, I'm just now getting comfortable with the idea. I don't know. Writing is so personal to me, and it's the only thing that I've really held on to throughout my entire life. I never thought that I would be submitting it to other places. I think I'm just a bit protective of it, but I'm trying to push myself to accept rejection and all that kind of stuff.
Imani: In looking at this piece and the fact that you submitted it over other pieces, why did it make you feel comfortable enough to submit it with your own name?
Colette: I think this was one of the first places that I submitted to, and the things that I submitted were really random. This one I submit to almost everything, just because it's short and I think it is nicely written. It's very reflective, and it's also very ambiguous. I feel like it could connect to a lot of people for a lot of different reasons, and it felt like it leaned into the ethos of Sabr Tooth. I didn't know that [Madeline] was going to pick this one, but I'm glad she did. I'm glad that it is somewhere. I think it's nice.
Imani: As far as the scene that you've gotten into in the past few months, submitting to Sabr Tooth Tiger, submitting to other places more broadly… What have you found that you love the most about, not necessarily the literary scene, but this publication scene of sharing work collaboratively?
Colette: I think Chicago is really special, and it's because it allows for shameless collaboration. Throwing things at a wall and seeing if they'll stick. I think a lot of the other big cities, like New York or LA, you kind of have to go in pre-established. There's something to prove. Whereas in Chicago, I could submit to anything. I can go to many events almost every day, and people welcome you with open arms. At least that's what I've been lucky enough to feel. Other scenes feel a bit too solidified. What they're looking for, the community, is already built there. I don't even know how I'd penetrate that, but with Chicago, there's not a person that has turned me down. Chicago is a bit more experimental, and I think that we're all just dipping our toes into things. Trying new things all the time. I don't have to be anything, and if I don't want to be a writer, it doesn't really matter. I could completely change and try different things. I don't know if that makes any sense.
Imani: Yeah, it does make sense, especially in comparison to New York and LA. That's a really good observation. You do often have to be established in a way, or you have to know someone who knows someone. They say that all the time in Chicago. I do not believe that's true at all. I think what you're saying is, you could be in any industry. You could be an engineer and also a writer. That's very common here, actually. So I completely agree with you.
Colette: Yeah! Loveth, our Artistic Director, works at Whole Foods, and they know this guy. He's like 50 years old, and he's been working at Whole Foods for a long time. He's a union worker—that's what he does—but he went up to Loveth like, "Hey, I heard you work for a magazine. I write poetry on my breaks. Could I give you some of my poetry?" That kind of energy is very exciting and wholesome to me. This place is steeped in nostalgia for me. I'm from here, so there's some sort of pride in me being a part of the scene and uplifting voices as best I can. It's a work of pure pride, I guess.
Imani: Growing up here—you've been here for a while—experiencing not only the community, but as it grows, changes, and develops, it goes through all of its puberties and things like that. What do you think could be improved upon by the community that you have been referring to as far as the most recent times, since you've experienced a bit of it growing up?
Colette: I think that there's always room for improvement. Inclusivity. I think what Madeline is always promoting more—like spaces that support disabled bodies and that kind of stuff—I think we can always be more inclusive like that. As within my community, I think that there's a bit of isolation and loneliness. It's a bit of an epidemic. I need to push myself a bit more to be uncomfortable, going to spaces and putting myself out there. On the other side of things, like when I am hosting events, or I'm looking for artists for my magazine, I'm always looking for a way to feel more welcoming. I guess that's always up for debate on how to do so. Just making sure that every space that I walk into, everyone can walk in welcomed and feeling safe and like they can be supported there... I think that would be it, but that's very broad, but that's something that I'd want to ponder a bit deeper. Just making sure that spaces feel safe.
Imani: I understand what you're saying. I think safety is so subjective. Thinking as people who organize or as people who create—everybody feels safe by different things, and some people's safety is other people's danger. It's a very big responsibility that you take upon as a writer or as an organizer.
Colette: Yeah, I was gonna say as an organizer, and especially of within the first issue of Knotted Lace, there were so many learning moments for us that I never would have thought of, which have completely changed the way that we went about the second issue and how we'll go about the issues and events going forward. Formatting things or consent to post things on social media. Things I never would have thought about because I had never done these things before. Making sure that every box is crossed off. I do think that I had to go about it by experiencing and maybe even hurting feelings, unfortunately, to learn those things and be like, "Oh shit, this is something that I need to focus on before we even go into putting pieces together and putting spreads together." I should have asked for consent about these things.
Art is very personal, whether it's writing or visual art, the way that you put that to publish should be supported by the artist from start to finish, even after they've given you consent to use their work. I think that that's been a huge thing for me, personally, and my team and I have made sure that we are going through every single step of the way, making sure that they know everything that's going on. Now, we send out [pieces] before things get sent to the printer, asking, "Does this look okay? What would you want to change? How can we adjust it?" We send out drafts now. We send out waivers, things like that. We make sure that the communication doesn't fall flat.
Imani: Working with all the people that you're working with, while continuing to expand, what do you see for the future for yourself as a poet? As you begin to lead into a more personal journey through writing and expression, how does that look for the future based on your experience, not only within the publication space, but with your experiences in Chicago? How is that informing what you're doing in the near future with your work? It's very exciting that you're getting your own things out personally, and it's very different from what you've been doing as well, right?
Colette: I really want to lean into curating galleries and stories. Community is the backbone and the ethos to why art is important to me. For writing, because that's such a singular practice, I think that I still have my training wheels on—so this next year, I just want to attend any workshop I can, any residency I'm able to, and just get comfortable that I might not be great at first, and that's okay, because I really loved every poetry class I've ever taken, or any English class. I miss that, and I want to be corrected, and I want to learn things. Also readings when I can, just dipping my toes into everything on that side of things. I'm not looking, honestly, to make any huge career moves on that side, because I still think I'm learning a lot, and I want to continue learning.
As for Knotted Lace, we are going in a different direction. Our ethos stays the same, but we want to have more events, and we want to do more fundraisers or start doing fundraiser events. That's a huge focus for us. We're still shooting to do two issues per year, but the way that we're doing it now is going to be completely different. We want to use multiple designers, and we want people to be able to submit their own spreads. I want to help make some spreads; things are a bit more scrapbook DIY. Back to the roots of why I started Knotted Lace in the first place. We've been having weekly meetings and talking about our mantra, what we stand for, and how we can show that to the community and things like that.
Imani: So you're feeling like you're in your seedling stage, trying to get all the water, all the fertilizer you can, so that once you're ready, you feel more developed and established for like, let's say, New York or LA?
Colette: I never want to go there! I hope that I don't have to. I like taking trips there, but I'm definitely not a New Yorker. And I'm definitely not a person that would live in LA. My dream has always been to live abroad for at least an era of my life, particularly my younger 20s. I think this year I have to completely start over. Who knows? It's hard.
When I saw that question, I got scared. That question of: “What's your plan for the future?” I'm like, I don't know! I feel like I'm starting everything right now, so I'm just trying to get my grips of what I'm comfortable with sharing and what I want to do. I feel like, as a creative, sometimes I don't actually know the answer until someone asks me, and then I'm like, "Oh, here's the answer." I just didn't know how to say that.
