[oil on canvas; 13 3/4 × 17 11/16 inches]
they tell me there are four seasons
but i live in a fifth one
which is your space
and your time
2008 - Al-Halllaj, Qasaid, 2008. Watercolour and ink on Japanese book, 27 x 630 cm. © Etel Adnan. Courtesy Galerie Claude Lemand, Paris.
Dedicated to grupa o.k.
Dope pen pals!
We’re interested in working with the Guggenheim and its architecture as a site to bring consciousness about the issues, because the Guggenheim uses its celebratory architecture in a very specific way, as a branding … so we’re rebranding the architecture,” Fischer said. “So last time we were inside, and this time we were outside on the facade.
I just wanna post this again
And for me, what was fascinating was that the maps these women were creating in their fictions — the social, critical, cognitive maps; these matrixes that they were plotting — were far more dangerous to the structures that had me pinioned than any of the criticisms that men of color were throwing down. What began to be clear to me as I read these women of color — Leslie Marmon Silko, Sandra Cisneros, Anjana Appachana, and throw in Octavia Butler and the great [Cherríe] Moraga of course — was that what these sisters were doing in their art was powerfully important for the community, for subaltern folks, for women writers of color, for male writers of color, for me. They were heeding [Audre] Lorde’s exhortation by forging the tools that could actually take down master’s house. To read these sisters in the 1980s as a young college student was not only intoxicating, it was soul-changing. It was metanoia.
I’m telling you guys, we’re never going to fucking get anywhere—if you want to hear my apocalyptic proclamation which I would never repeat, but which I know you motherfuckers are going to tweet about—we are never going to get anywhere as long as our economies of attraction continue to resemble, more or less, the economy of attraction of white supremacy.
Why doesn’t feminist media treat immigration as an obvious feminist issue? Why doesn’t mainstream feminism seem to give a damn about undocumented women? Why aren’t more feminist organizations coming out in support of the Dream 9? As a comprehensive immigration reform bill is being butchered by Congress, accomplishing little more than further militarizing the border, and the Dream 9, largely led by women, continue making national headlines after participating in the most radical, risky act of civil disobedience in the history of the undocumented student movement, there is literally no excuse for the silence on behalf of feminist media.
— Immigration is a Feminist Issue—We Need to Treat it That Way by Tina Vasquez (via sarabriseno)
Rediscovered this gem on my comp
"In His Words | Stillness in the Move" from T Magazine
Teju Cole’s new book extols the streets of Lagos, Nigeria, where he spent his youth. Here, he expounds on what’s so great about living in New York.
I love dancing, and I especially love being in a club at 2 a.m., when one or three drinks, good company and a gifted D.J. collectively liberate me into my body. The place could be Barbès in Park Slope, where old-school Guinean grooves silver the air, or perhaps I’m atWindfall in Midtown, enjoying the latest Nigerian Afrobeats and Congolese ndombolo. Wherever it is, I stop my habitual overthinking and become, quite simply, a body in the half-dark.
But this is not the highlight of such evenings, for afterward is the journey home to Brooklyn. From the back seat of a taxi, the city unfurls before me as a series of illuminated sights. If we go down the West Side Highway, we’ll pass by the apparition of One World Trade and enter the Tarkovsky-like glow of the Battery Tunnel. If we take the F.D.R., there’s the jeweler’s display of the bridges: Williamsburg, Manhattan, Brooklyn, all those dreamy rows of diamonds. At such moments, the city is mine alone: its immensity, its beauty, its clear streets, its silent waterways. It is open in a way daylight would never permit. I lose myself in it and belong to it, a happiness no less real for being so fleeting.
Teju Cole’s “Every Day Is for the Thief” will be published by Random House on March 25.
Felice Serreli, 2013, Quotidiana 07, paper tissue, 20x30 cm
[The Drawing Center is featuring Drawing Storage posts on our blog for the next few weeks.]
“When I hear people say, ‘We’re all people, we’re all human, I don’t see color,’ to me that means, ‘I don’t see you, you don’t exist,’ ” said Mr. Ngo, who added that he had been subjected to racial and homophobic epithets.