Rosa Christina: The Ritual of Rot

by Blaire Grady
edited by deb Ewing

The mysterious, the curious, the slow-burn entanglements with shadowed figures—macabre, dark fiction invigorates me unlike other styles or genres regardless of medium. It’s hearty; it sticks with me. Stories that come to mind are Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind… The Ritual by Adam Nevill, We Used to Live Here, Marcus Kliewer. I grew up adoring all works by Edgar Allan Poe and, though it’s not literary, I genuinely relish in the Stygian qualities of certain TV series characters such as Gus Fring or comically so of Morticia Addams. These characters give their stories teeth. Without death or despair, corruption or hauntings, stories can get pretty boring, in my opinion. 

So naturally, the algorithms picked up on my partiality to dark fiction and suggested content created by Rosa Christina, a published poet and illustrator of the macabre or macabre-adjacent, depending on the subject. Rosa’s IG account is filled with hand drawn depictions of fantastical encounters and spectral poetry, each a metaphor of self-reflection and anxious interaction, particularly hauntings of one’s self and past experiences of trusting others. She includes an illustrative cover for each poem she posts, creating a branded aesthetic and providing a deeper clarity of her written perspectives. 

Strangers & Karma: In what corner of the world are you located? 

Rosa Christina: I am from Southern California, born and raised in the Valley. 

SK: Do you have pets? 

RC: I do! I have a little dog named Diana. She’s a Jack Russell and chihuahua mix, so you can just imagine what kind of chaos she inflicts upon her corner of the world.

SK: Awe. I love that, so demure—Ross or Princess of Wales? 

RC: Diana as in Princess Diana of Themyscira, actually! My brother begged me to name her after Wonder Woman. But most people think of Princess Diana of Wales now and I don’t correct them.

SK: Oh she is fearless and fabulous! I’m curious, what’s your zodiac sign? 

RC: I am a Pisces. I believe my rising is Scorpio and my moon is Aquarius. Or it might be the other way around. I’ve gotten it wrong before and had a couple friends reevaluate their perceptions of my personality, haha. 

SK: Oh that makes sense, especially for Pisces… water sign, imaginative, mystical, very empathetic.

Do you have any hobbies or interests aside from art? 

RC: I love reading, especially sci-fi/fantasy novels. As you may have guessed, I also deeply enjoy horror in the many forms it takes.  I’ve been trying to broaden my tastes lately, so I have some nonfiction queued up. Also, one of my friends  has gotten me very into chess lately! I keep losing, but with every loss I learn more.

SK: Octavia Butler has gotten a lot of attention in recent years, postmortem; have you read any of her books? Adulthood Rites is a great read among others, and of course, Parable of a Sower. Elle Cordova recently hosted her sci-fi book club podcast on Butler’s Parable of a Sower. 

RC: Octavia Butler’s Speech Sounds is a short story that has stayed with me. I think of it now, looking at a world that sometimes seems to savor the language of cruelty over communication. I haven’t yet read Parable of a Sower, though I have heard nothing but good things about it. Certainly, it seems to be a rather timely read. It’s on my to-read list. 

SK: I haven’t read Speech Sounds yet… add that to the queue. What sci-fi writers do you like to read? Do you have any book recs? 

RC: I always get tripped up with these questions, haha. I don’t know where to begin. A bit basic of me, but my favorite book series is George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. It’s gorgeous worldbuilding, with gorgeous writing. And I think it encapsulates the human desire to see the best in ourselves, even at our worst (can you tell Brienne is my favorite?). I also enjoy The Broken Earth trilogy, particularly The Fifth Season. I’m currently finishing up the Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy by Liu Cixin. It’s a dedicated read, but I love its large, vast, swathing ideas that sweep you in. The Dark Forest is currently my favorite of the three, in no small part because of the imagery of the prologue; an ant traveling through words it cannot understand.

This isn’t a book, but I would be remiss if I didn’t recommend my favorite horror podcast, The Silt Verses. Truly, some of the most horrific, grotesque, evocative, beautiful, poignant, strange, and lovely storytelling you’ll hear. A world where gods are copyrighted,  sacrifice is currency, and horrors have been made mundane. I can’t recommend it enough.

SK: My mind is in pieces with these recommendations! Nothing basic about it. I have to read Koseman’s All Tomorrows! Speaking of ants, when my son was young, we both got into insects and learned their special rituals and habitats. Throughout that experience I discovered a love for spiders. And I agree—ants are pretty cool, too! I’ve noticed, ants don’t seem to do much damage to our garden at home, though I see a lot of them. We don’t use chemicals, so we get to witness a lot of nature interacting on our property. I think it’s helped us be more attentive to all the little creatures and plants. 

What draws you to the somewhat morbid settings and mysterious figures in your poetry and visual storytelling? Would you say you’ve always been drawn to the darker, more ethereal vibe? 

RC: I’ve always been drawn to the macabre. I loved scary stories as a kid, and voraciously devoured books of folklore, mystery books, and gothic novels.

There are different windows to my work. Certainly, internal frustrations with mental health—particularly the religious-flavored paranoia I grew up with, and the OCD I developed in conjunction. 

SK: Religious-flavored paranoia—that’s really interesting because it’s so relatable for so many, including myself. Religion is embedded in many of us like microchips, by our parents and grandparents, when we’re too young for critical thinking on that level. By the time we are old enough, for most of us, we’re already wired to either not question it or feel guilty for questioning it. It can be a painful and often traumatic experience to disagree with religious upbringing and feel okay about that decision. 

And speaking of the preface… Girl. Brilliant writing. And you’re not too far off with the feelings you had about the infinite mirrors in your place. I’m sure you’re aware that many cultures have believed that mirrors are portals to the spirit world. 

The preface was incredibly relatable. Many of the works included in the book could be interpreted differently depending on one’s current state, and personally, that’s what I love about most poetry. It’s something we can turn to on many occasions and feel validated or corrected or inspired. Sleepwalk into Eternity has a solid theme of mysterious encounters; the writing has an earthy vibe and old-school eeriness that the world is starting to bring back to storytelling, poetry, and visual art. This style of writing matches the style of your illustrations. It’s truly the reason I forgave you for excluding your illustrations in the book!

RC: My publisher actually pushed me to include my illustrations! She even pinpointed a few that she thought would make a great cover. But…it was a moment of vulnerability. Around the same time I was compiling Sleepwalk Into Eternity, I underwent a very long artist’s block; I went about two or three years unable to produce a piece. I had a vision of each poem being accompanied by a unique illustration. But I was frustrated with the sketches I came up with and I didn’t want to recycle old art. And to be frank…I just thought my work wasn’t good enough for publication. Considering so much of my writing is confronting the spectre of perfectionism, it is ironic that in the end, the final product was haunted by it regardless. 

And perfectionism is such a beast. Where does it come from but from the desire to conform, the desire to be immaculate and safe? I think in my heart I had begun to see my work as content to be consumed rather than ideas to be shared. I had even considered archiving my older work altogether, and starting anew with “safer” templates. But I couldn’t do it. 

And one day, it just came back to me. And I was just happy that I was drawing again. The imperfections felt like old friends I could develop conversation with. A bit cheesy, but maybe I was meant to come back to it when I had become more grounded in my sense of self, and could appreciate my craft for what it was. 

SK: Zero typos! There are many poems in this collection that I could also relate to as with IV, The Wanderer, Lady of the Lake, Dark Watcher, to name a few. I don’t enjoy poetry that is either too metaphorical or too on the nose. You have a great talent at choosing words to balance both. 

Are there any personal stories you’d like to share to accompany the poems I’ve listed above (or other poems in the collection)?

RC: I find it really fascinating that you named those four. I think there is certainly a level of derealization, an otherworldly relationship with our own bodies, that weaves through those works. I’d describe it as walking side by side, but out of step, with our personhood. Like we are haunting ourselves. A spirit trailing after its body. And yet, the desire to be perceived as whole, as right, remains.

Lady of the Lake in particular is a rather vulnerable piece. It’s ultimately the story of a girl who flirts with self-destruction, ignores warnings from those who love her, and, in the end, chooses to drown rather than to accept help. The most important thing to her is that people think she’s swimming. And for a time, that was what was important to me; that I was perceived as doing well even as my mental health spiraled out of control. Even when I hit rock bottom, my perfectionism was at the steering wheel. I think there was some kind of twisted logic at play, that if I was seen as doing okay, I would eventually be okay. But of course, that’s not how it works. Self-regulation is hard work, and requires life-long maintenance. Like I wrote in Dark Watcher, rivers must be damned into wells. Illustration panel from The Fisher Kings by Rosa Christina

SK: You mentioned your publisher earlier. How has Alegría Publishing’s mission to represent, empower and enrich the lives of the Latinx creative community been helpful to you? 

RC: Being a part of the Alegría community of poets and writers has been an incredible experience. I’ve made lifelong connections and friendships, have been introduced into the wider world of publishing, and have absolutely been pushed out of my comfort zone. I’ll never forget the first time I attended a retreat with other Alegría authors in Valle de Guadalupe. That’s when I knew I had found a great group of people.

SK: Do you feel that the members of the Latinx creative community give you the continued support you wouldn’t have found with other publishers? 

RC: Overall, every writing community I’ve ever been a part of has been enriching and unique. I’ve met lifelong friends, have read some of the most jaw-dropping lyricism from local authors, developed my voice as a writer and my eye as a reader. One of my favorite poets, I met during the pandemic in the Instagram poetry community. 

But engaging with Latinx artists and creatives is unique for me, because I will admit…for the longest time, I just felt a disconnect between my identity as a Latina and who I was as an artist and writer.  But being a part of this community challenged that insecurity with pinpoint precision. There’s just a breathtaking sense of support and camaraderie that has encouraged me to embrace my work as part of who I am, as a Latina. My grandmother was a writer. As is my mother, my uncles, myself, and my brother. I can’t divorce my art from that context, nor do I want to.

And…I’ve quickly discovered that we Latines thrive in macabre and horror spaces! I’m glad to do my part to contribute. 

SK:  That’s so true! The Surreal Realism of Luis Buñuel and Guillermo Del Toro… Nuevo Gótico… Day of the Dead… my mind can’t leave Mexico, let’s see… Latin American creature-lore like Chupacabra… and the Acalica (Bolivia) are described to be similar to the small beings in The Fisher Kings! 

Who are your biggest influences in creating your own art? 

RC: As for my writing, I’ve had many influences. This collection drew inspiration from folklore, from Romantic poetry, from [Richard] Flanagan flavours of ghost stories. But I think two sources are closest to my heart: de Troyes’ Perceval, the Story of the Grail, and Lady of Shallot by Alfred Lord Tennyson. The working title of this book was The Ritual of Rot, which was scrapped because it didn’t really reflect the collection’s overall scope. But it did reflect the aesthetic influence of de Troyes’ Perceval. I first read the text for a college paper, but I remember it unexpectedly striking me as strangely personal and familiar. Perhaps it was the strangeness it afforded otherwise familiar exchanges, or perhaps I was just slowly losing my mind to delirious and nonsensical thesis word vomit.

SK: Backing up to the title change. I very much appreciate The Ritual of Rot, and I feel it fits impeccably with the content. But I also understand that in most publishing, there are a lot of artistic sacrifices compromises made in the process. 

RC: What stayed with me [from the thesis work] was the story of the Fisher King, where a hero is belied into a passive role, wading through dreamlike consciousness while playing the spectator to a strange ritual. This tale concludes with a confrontation back home, in a setting well established within their reality; that agency was always there for them to wield, though they had been taught to be silent. It just stuck with me, that even within the ritual of mythmaking, you can never truly be a non-actor. You can never truly be a mere spectator in your own life.

SK: You’ve mentioned previously that your favorite work in Sleepwalking into Eternity is the Round series. What makes it your favorite, and what inspired you to write it? What does it mean to you?

RC: Oh yes! I think the Round series was the first time I felt something ‘click’ into place. It’s a ghost story, but not overly esoteric, and I think a much more grounded narrative than most of my other pieces. It’s funny, because when I first started writing it, I was envisioning a Treasure Island call to action, where an encounter with this stranger kicks off a quest for ‘buried treasure’ (the treasure in this case, of course, is his corpse). But as I wrote it, I just couldn’t bring myself to have my narrator accept this quest. So I thought, ‘Okay, we’re going the Coleridge route then, we’re going to have this ghost tell his tale of horror and woe.’ But once again, it was like my narrator refused to even hear this guy out!

So I ended up drawing from those kinds of situations, and wrote a story in which our central character refuses the call to action, and refuses to allow this man to take over as narrator. But I think the most important detail in this set of poems is the fact that they are both ghosts. They’re both stuck in that bar! He’s begging for help from someone who cannot leave even if she wanted to. All she can really do is give him advice and a bit of comfort. The ending can be interpreted however the reader likes, but to me, his acceptance of her refusal ultimately frees him. But she’s still there.

Anyways, I love the Round series because it allowed me to write a campfire-adjacent story, play around with the “call to action” mechanic, and explore relationship stuff. What more can you ask for, as a writer? Haha.

SK: I’m familiar with that moment when we realize folks’ attention is on us and we’re exceeding expectations, and others want us to pass along our spells or secret potions, when we know ourselves that there really is nothing special about it. It’s a complicated position to be in. 

Do you write and draw full time or in your spare moments like many artists? 

RC: I definitely don’t/can’t write or draw full time, but it is absolutely important to me that I have time set aside for both of these each day. I regularly use 4thewords to keep myself writing consistently, and use “TV time” to draw. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of telling yourself that you don’t have time. It’s my mission to win that argument against my future self!

SK: Do you find much emotional support from friends and family on your creative achievements?

RC: I come from a family of immigrants. Personal aspirations were often set aside for the sake of survival and stability. My mother had dreams of being an architect before she immigrated to the United States. My father loves history, but never studied it. And my grandmother wrote poetry. I didn’t know that until after her death.

SK: Would you like to give a quick plug to your brother’s work here? 

RC: Sure! My brother mainly writes screenplays. You can check out one of his shorts here. 

SK: That’s so great to hear; I love hearing about artists with emotionally supportive family. My family has more of a mathematical and farming background, so finding that support was rough growing up. I’ve always had my grandmother, mom, and younger sister’s support, and that’s enough for me now. 

Speaking of family. Knowing that you’re from the Valley, you’re part of an immigrant family, and the recent protests in L.A… how are you coping? Is there anything you would like to say regarding the injustices happening across the country, but especially in your town? 

RC: Thankfully, my family has been okay. But I think most of us know someone who has been affected. There’s a real sense of anxiety that I’ve seen linger, even as people go on with their day-to-day. I certainly have felt it. The terror is part of the point—to posture, to disorient, and to ‘shock and awe’ until it becomes a new normal. It’s to make people feel unwelcome and insecure in their own homes. 

I think the most frustrating part is how very eager some people are to move the goal post of criminalization.  This is something I’ve been thinking about over the past year, how fear-mongering and fantasies of rogue righteousness have allowed some folks to find catharsis in putting other people ‘in their place.’  They work hard to construct their boogeymen, forcing shifts in language and conversation, centering a soft-sounded juxtaposition of humanity/criminality in discussions regarding human rights, and then paint all immigrants as potential criminals. It’s a tale as old as time, but no less infuriating, because at least a portion of it comes from an inability to look inward. I guess that’s how you can justify strangers in unmarked cars kidnapping people for committing the crime of shopping at Home Depot or Vallarta.

SK: Are there any charities you would like to suggest to our readers? 

RC: I would definitely love to suggest CHIRLA (Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights) and CARECEN.  Jail Support LA is also great, because they provide on the ground support for detained protestors. 

SK: You inspired me to donate to CHIRLA, excellent rec. It was a great experience, really thoughtful org. I’ll be checking out CARECEN and Jail Support LA.

This has been such an enlightening and honestly humbling to get to know more about you, Rosa. Your work shows immense intellect and creativity. Your responses were thorough and eloquent. Always an open invitation to return to Strangers & Karma and share works to come, chat, and catch up on life. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. Best wishes until next time 🖤 

Follow Rosa Christina’s journey via Instagram 

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Rosa Christina is a poet and illustrator based in Los Angeles, California. Visit her instagram for more info.

deb Ewing, is a professional writer & editor. View her biography here.

Blaire Grady is a writer and illustrator as well as the founder of Strangers & Karma. She’s delighted to present unique content and work with literary and visual artists — a dream come true for her.