Poet Rio Cortez
"Today I lit some copal incense, opened all the curtains to let the midday sun into the house, and played an Andrew Hill record."
Rio Cortez is the New York Times bestselling author of picture books The ABCs of Black History (Workman, 2020) and The River Is My Sea (S&S, 2024). Her debut poetry collection, Golden Ax, was longlisted for the 2022 National Book Award for Poetry and is available now from Penguin Books.
Rio shares the most blissful day with us and acknowledges the power of honoring one’s boundaries.
Last book you read...
Neruda on the Park by Cleyvis Natera
Last thing you learned about yourself...
I recently learned that some of the hardest and most important boundaries I've set this past year have been for myself. Boundaries for my body, even if my mind wants to keep going. I'm trying to be a better ally to my body.
Last thing that left you inspired...
I've been really inspired by the HarperCollins Union and their ongoing fight for a fair contract and a liveable wage. As a person who has worked in the publishing industry for a long time, I'm so grateful and moved by their efforts to move us all forward.
Last moment of self-care...
Today I lit some copal incense, opened all the curtains to let the midday sun into the house, and played an Andrew Hill record. I also snuck a handful of my kid's sour flower candy. It was bliss.
Last big splurge...
A Marni handbag with the most beautiful green resin handle. I bought it when Golden Ax went on sale. It was one of those material objects that felt like art to me, it sparked joy.
Last song you danced to...
I'm recovering from a broken foot, so there hasn't been a lot of dancing...but there has been a lot of "Free Mind" by Tems.
Describe your last delicious meal...
Lately, I have been putting Maldon salt and olive oil (the good stuff) on my chocolate ice cream. I highly recommend doing this.
Last place you traveled...
Most recently I traveled to the DC/Maryland area to visit and reunite with some family over the holiday break. It was long overdue and it felt unexpectedly centering. I sat at a table between my 96-year-old abuela and my 4-year-old daughter. I watched my uncle fall asleep on my husband's shoulder in the backseat of our minivan rental (and laughed). I connected with my teenaged cousin over poetry. I had so much anxiety about the visit, but, life is a wonder.
