Pol Pintó, from the series Teletrabajo 01.
Jiab Prachakul (via booooooom).
From Brandon Taylor’s essay the tiny white people in our heads: When I tell friends about my life, even stories that are funny to me, I always try to preface it by saying that I grew up in a Southern Gothic novel. I think most of us who grew up with trauma or working classContinue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR”
Starlings I and II from Ploterre / Rebecca J Kaye (see description here).
By Evan M. Cohen (site) from the series Reflect.
“We Lived Happily during the War” by Ilya Kaminsky, via Poetry Unbound and the Poetry Foundation. And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protestedbut not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I wasin my bed, around my bed America was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house. I took a chairContinue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND TWENTY ONE”
Samuel Rodriguez, various collections.
From Shing Yin Khor’s comic I Do Not Want to Write Today.
Rune Fisker, Above.
From Keno Eval’s essay, Daunte Wright: A Billion Clusters of Rebellion and Starlight (via Ann Friedman). Perhaps we should learn a little about activists organizing to preserve starlight. The work of Cipriano Martin is described in The End Of Night: “He talks in a language that seems made for ‘declarations’ written ‘in defense.’” Martin helpedContinue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN”
By Anna May Henry (Instagram).
Helen Bur, via booooooom.
Excerpt from Sanctuary by Donika Kelly. The ocean, I mean, not a woman, filledwith plastic lace, and closer to the vanishingpoint, something brown breaks the surface—human, maybe, a hand or foot or an islandof trash—but no, it’s just a garden of kelp.A wild life. This is a prayer like the seaurchin is a prayer, likeContinue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN”
From the newly public Dorothea Lange Digital Archive from OMCA (the Public Defender series).
From Lewis Hyde’s A Primer for Forgetting. GRANDMA HYDE VERSUS FOUCAULT. “The analysis of descent permits the dissociation of the self,” rather than its unification, writes Michel Foucault. The truth about who you are lies not at the root of the tree but rather out at the tips of the branches, the thousand tips. ….Continue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND TWELVE”