Bornean-Australian author, poet and visual artist Omar Musa is the kind of creative whose work refuses to be confined to a single box. His creativity flows freely across multiple mediums, whether he’s performing spoken-word poetry, sharing the stage with his wife, classical musician Mariel Roberts Musa, or embarking on life-changing trips to Borneo to reconnect with his roots – where he also discovered a love of woodcutting. But with such a constant well of ideas and a desire to keep creating, how does he keep focused?
As he prepares for the release of his latest novel, Fierceland, Service95’s Pia Brynteson sits down with Omar to learn about his creative rhythms. From early morning runs that get his blood pumping to his deep appreciation of the artists and writers that came before him, below we discover what fuels Omar’s multifaceted world...
I START MY DAY WITH... An intense run or a Muay Thai class to get the blood flowing. I obviously don’t do this every day – it depends on what I’m working on. But when I’m writing, I try to begin with that. I also avoid my phone in the mornings and go straight to coffee. Then, I usually read something – whether it’s someone else’s work or what I wrote the night before – to refresh my brain. Good writing doesn’t happen without good reading.
I just started Another Country by James Baldwin and, as usual, he’s brilliant. Other books that have inspired me recently include Seiobo There Below by László Krasznahorkai (dense stuff but astounding sentences), Beloved by Toni Morrison (truly one of the greats) and The Successor by Ismail Kadare. I also love the weirdness and floaty intrigue of Hiroko Oyamada’s work and recently revisited my friend Ennis Ćehić’s book, Sadvertising.
THE BEST TIME FOR WRITING... Is the early morning, when my brain is fully rested and my subconscious has smoothed out the rougher ideas from the day before. I believe they call it the ‘angel’s share’. I also purposely keep myself a little bit hungry for this period, which seems to extend to the work itself – I can dive into writing, polishing or editing the previous day’s work, along with research.
I often go to a quiet café on the bottom floor of a big hotel across from where we live in Kota Kinabalu, which overlooks the South China Sea, which really feeds my soul. It’s at the heart of an archipelago where people have been trading and cross-pollinating ideas and goods for centuries. I like to tap into that energy by watching the boats come and go while looking out at the water.
THE PERSON WHO FIRST INSPIRED ME... Was my English teacher, who encouraged me to shift from writing gory horror stories to poetry. My father, a poet and imam, also influenced me. In Southeast Asia, performed poetry has deep roots, and my parents introduced me to Indonesia’s most famous poet, WS Rendra, who performed at political rallies and in stadiums. His work, which once prompted someone to throw a bomb on stage, showed me the power of poetry to inspire and provoke change. Other visual artists who have been influential include Abdul Abdullah, Jason Phu, Tiyan Baker, Rinaldo Hartanto, Zico Albaiquni and Yee I-Lann, as well as Bornean punk rock/woodcut collective Pangrok Sulap and their mentors, Taring Padi.
MY PERFECT WORKING ENVIRONMENT... Is a tricky balance. I like places with interesting stimuli but not too much, and not too many people, as I get overwhelmed and distracted. I’m very sensitive to noise, but if the space is too dull, I have nothing to engage with. I love working on trains, planes and buses. Being on the move frees me up, and I make a lot of notes on my phone while on the tube. That really helps to unlock creativity.
MY IDEAL SOUNDTRACK... Differs between when I’m doing visual art and when I’m writing. When I’m writing, I can’t have anything with lyrics – I prefer silence. But if I do have music on, it has to be instrumental. My wife is a classical musician, so she’s introduced me to composers like Shostakovich and Ligeti, and also recently jazz legends Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman, who are great to write to.
But when I’m making art, I love filling my brain with lyrics – rap music, soul music and podcasts. Podcasts or audiobooks are great [to listen to] while carving wood. I recently listened to the audiobook of Technofeudalism by Yanis Varoufakis. To keep abreast of the mayhem of US and world politics, I listen to The Majority Report with Sam Seder and Secular Talk with Kyle Kulinski. I’m a big sports fan, so I religiously tune into The Mismatch [an NBA podcast] on The Ringer and Morning Kombat [an MMA podcast].
In terms of the music I listen to while carving, you can’t go wrong with Nas, Kendrick [Lamar], J Dilla or Marvin Gaye. Although, according to Spotify, my most-listened-to artists in 2024 were Ariana Grande and Doja Cat – so hey, I’m keeping it eclectic! I often just put on a track that matches my mood and let the algorithm guide me. The other day, I put on Violeta Parra’s Gracias a la Vida and ended up down a rabbit hole of Chilean music. I also got really into 1980s Japanese pop singer Miki Matsubara that way.
I WAS CONSCIOUS OF WEARING ‘FASHIONABLE’ CLOTHES... When I first started performing – it often felt restrictive and would distract from the words. For a while, I switched to a more minimalist look, like Dr Dre’s signature black jeans and black tee. It made me feel more comfortable, allowed me to move and sweat and helped me to focus on the spoken word. The power of spoken word comes from the voice, not the visuals. These days, I lean a bit more into style, but that conscious shift was important for me.
I’M A DESCENDENT OF TRADITION, BUT I’VE PUT MY OWN SPIN ON IT... I was born and raised in Australia, so while I’m connected to my Bornean roots, I didn’t grow up there. When it comes to my visual art, I was taught by members of Pangrok Sulap, the biggest punk rock art collective in Borneo who, in turn, learned from the godfathers of that movement, a group called Taring Padi in Indonesia. They often use local motifs and designs, whereas I developed my own iconography that draws on the natural world of Australia and Borneo, blended with pop culture references and emoticons. Where they use political slogans, I felt it would be false for me to do the same. Instead, I replaced them with couplets of poetry, lines of conversation between characters, or personal stories from my family history. I’ve tried to make it more authentic to who I am.
MY JOURNEY WITH WOODCUTS CAME OUT OF NOWHERE... I’d never considered myself a visual artist. I come from an artistic family and loved drawing as a kid, but I discovered this at a point when I was having an existential crisis with my writing and performing. It was incredibly confronting.
In 2018, I decided to go on a river journey to the heart of Borneo to figure out my next move as I needed a new way to express myself. Around that time, I met the Bornean punk rock crew and I asked if I could give it a go. They were so welcoming – we sat on the ground and they taught me how to carve the wood, roll it with ink and press it to cloth or paper by stamping with our feet – a very Southeast Asian approach, since there aren’t many printing presses.
I fell in love with the process and, slowly, by adding text to my carvings, I grew to love poetry and writing again. It brought me back to my practice. I think part of it was a longing for connection to my homeland. When you haven’t grown up there, and your Malay is broken, reconnecting can be awkward. But finding a way to reconnect through art and expression was something I’d been missing. It charged me up with what we call “Semangat”, meaning spirit.
THERE HAVE BEEN DISTINCT ‘ERAS’ OF MY WORK... One piece that stands out is an album I released last year called The Fullness. I initially created it just for fun, thinking I was done with rap music and focusing solely on prose and poetry. However, my best friend was tragically murdered and I was completely lost. I turned to those unfinished songs and polished them through my grief. The album became a mix of spoken word, rap and singing, blending electronic and avant-garde music with old-school rap and soul.
Another project I’m proud of is my one-man play, Since Ali Died, about my hero Muhammad Ali. It blended theatre, poetry, stand-up comedy and rap, coming together in a short, intense period. Interestingly, it’s often the side quests – the projects that emerge from raw, emotional moments – that become the most meaningful.
Fierceland by Omar Musa is out 26 September 2025, published by Penguin Random House Australia and Penguin Random House SEA
