ISIS SS UUEE6VI
thecoalitionzine,issuevi AUGUST-SEPTEMBER'15
Angelina Fernandez Yusra Siddiqui Tet a Alim Nicole L ovet Aeon Fux Yasmin M asjeed Christ ina Pineda K endahl Rose
Editor in Chief: Fabiola Ching Editor: Giselle D efares Copyw r iter: A lana M oham m ed Copyw r iter: Beli Sanchez A r t D irector: Fabiola Ching Special t hanks t o Yusra Siddiqui and Bonit a Okonkwo for our cover phot o and spread, Aeon Fux for making cool music and let t ing us int o her world, and Angelina Fernandez for being t oo rad for us. Shout out t o everyone who cont ribut ed and part icipat ed in t he making of t his 6t h issue. And, of course, t o you who is reading t his!
THE HARD RETREAT BYNICOLELOVETT
"Don't
be alarmed when I st op t alking," Sara
says. But I am alarmed. I feel a shock jolt in my heart whenever I log ont o Facebook and we are bot h online but Sara does not say HEY like she always does. I 'm alarmed, when, on t he last day of
I first felt t he vast ness of t he dist ance
bet ween Sara and I at t he last show Janiya and
I put on. I t was t he last open mic at t he cafe,
and Janiya and I were t he feat ure of t he night . Janiya would beat box. I would sing.
school, our favorit e song comes on and Sara I t wasn?t even during t he show, okay? I n fact , glances at me and t urns t o grin at someone else. I t he show hadn?t even st art ed. Janiya and I and
am alarmed when, while wait ing for my mot her some of our admirers were st anding out side t he at t he coffee shop, Sara rushes in t o get a cafe. Some people were smoking, ot hers
croissant , "heat ed t ill t he t op of t he flakes burn, t alking, I was list ening. That ?s when I saw please", and meet s my eye but sees right t hrough Sara across t he st reet , walking fast . Away from me.
t he cafe.
"Sara, Sara, Sara," Janiya says sadly as I I was like, ?Hey!? I pushed myself from t he recount t hese event s. I am pacing t he room. I am group and t ried t o wave her over. ?The cafe?s
pacing t he room and running my hands t hrough over here, you dummy!? She just st ood t here. I my hair when I cannot feel my hands anymore. I n looked back at Janiya and t he ot hers. L ooking
fact , I feel like I 'm float ing about t he floor, fast . I back at it now, t hey looked sorry for me. L ike t hey knew. I kinda jogged over t o where Sara st op and st are at t he ground. "You're gonna have t o face t he fact s, my friend," Janiya says as she scrolls t hrough Tumblr absent - mindedly. "Sara's not coming back. You'll move on. Things will be fine." I can feel my silence heat ing up wit hin my chest . The clicks from Janiya's lapt op mouse come t o a st op. She is st anding next t o me suddenly, t ransformed from a wave of apat hy t o one of calm. "I s it happening again?"
was st anding. She looked closed in and drawn.
Well, she was always like t hat . But t his was when it hit me. I asked her what was wrong.
?I know where t he cafe is, I just have t o go and
do somet hing,? she explained quickly. She
wasn?t looking at me. She was looking at t he
ground and her eyes kept dart ing back t o t he cafe. She even shuffled her feet a lit t le. ?Oh. Um. You said you were coming, t hough.?
I nod my head yes. I grasp Janiya's hand as I ?I know.?
begin t o crumble. She t ells me t o t ake deep ?I t old you about t his like t wo weeks ago.? I breat hs and t hink of my happy place. I t ry t o paused, and decided I should smile. ?I t ?s not a breat he but somet hing is sit t ing on my chest . big deal, t hough. I underst and. Things I t hink it is Sara.
happen.? ?Yeah. Things happen.?
We st ood t here for a moment . She st ill wasn?t looking at me. I wondered if I should hug her. I t didn?t seem like a good t ime. I t was never a good t ime. ?I don?t want t o be friends,? Sara said. We were sit t ing on her porch. I felt like t he floor had been pulled from underneat h me. ?Okay.? ?This is going t o be a clean breakup, okay?? ?Okay.? ?I ?m sorry, I love you, you know t hat ?? I was focusing on t he red st eps t hat bled int o t he sidewalk. They were smudged int o blurs by my sudden t ears. I t urned away. Sara st ood up t o go back int o her house. ?Don?t be alarmed when I st op t alking.?
Janiya t ells me t o t ake all t he t ime I need t o feel bet t er. I count t he seconds as I lay on t he floor. I get t o a t housand. I realize t hat I can move my body, all I need t o do is believe it . I rejoin Janiya back on t he bed. I ease myself down slowly. The room looks bright er. I look at Janiya. ?How much t ime really passed?? She shakes her head, a Don?t Worry About I t shake. She closes her lapt op and put s it on t he floor. I know t hat ?s my cue t o st and up, so I do. She forms herself int o a quest ion mark on t he bed and I answer t he quest ion by joining it . Janiya holds me and I cry. Janiya st rokes my hair and I cry. She cuddles me and I fall asleep. I wake up and see she has left nice not es all around t he house. I realize t his is what love is, and I cry.
"I REALIZE THISIS WHAT LOVEIS, ANDI CRY."
INTRODUCING
T he first
verse of Aeon Fux's "Reptitllian" hauntingly tells the beginning of a love story that bloomed in a reptile room. At first listen, the song is reminiscent of a soulful Billie H oliday classic, but 30 seconds in and you no longer get that. You get something else. T his something else is what transfixes you, this something else is Doom soul songstress Aeon Fux. I first came across Fux about a year ago, idly scrolling down my tumblr dashboard. In a webcam video, she is playing an omnichord. She is making beautiful and otherworldly music with the ominichord but her voice is what takes you in, heavy and daring and tugging at you. A year later, and i'm still being tugged in by the alien girl with the heavy voice and white omnichord. I decided to hit up the 23y/o alien songstress and talk to her about her work, her debut album, and the rise of internet music. * H ow would you descr ibe yourself and w hat you do to som eone w ho?s m eeting you for the first tim e? I often describe myself as an alien sent to this planet to experience emotion, both human, and non-human. I like to exist in a liminal space between human and arthropod, and I like for the music I create to blur the line between human feelings and scientific observation. W hen did you realize that m usic was exactly w hat you w anted to do? H ow did you get to this realization that this is how you w anted to spend your life? I didn?t fully realize that music was my ?passion? until my late teens. I was really discouraged by some rather awful musical gatekeepers at a young age and gave up on it for a while. T he thing that really got me back into wanting to make music was my passion for the metal genre, and wanting to participate in it. I
started making music that I classified as ?gothic a cappella? and wanted to provide operatic vocals for a gothic metal band. When I started branching out into listening to different genres, I gained a lot of insight and influence and started playing the omnichord. I guess that?s when I really started honing my craft and experimenting with my sound, and adding more soul and jazz elements to my music. When I came to college it was originally for entomology and parasitology, but now I?m working on a degree in Afrofuturism, which in my case is a combination of music and African American studies. It has been a long and interesting journey for me, and I?ve had some setbacks along the way, but ultimately they have solidified my passion for what I am doing and I am driven to create more and to expand my audience. You definitely have a tone and sound that is inst antly recognizable and anybody w ho?s been follow ing your work can attest to this. A lot of people would call it D oom Soul or D oom R & B but I want to know how would you descr ibe it and w here does it der ive from ? W hy chose this route? I instantly took to the genre label of ?doom soul? the moment I learned about it. M y origins lie in metal and I?ve always strived to creating something dark, with a creeping undertone that lasts with you long after listening. I felt like ?alternative R & B? or ?experimental? didn?t fully encompass that. I like to imagine ?doom soul? as an offshoot of neo-soul, soul music for a futuristic generation that has elements of darkness to it that can only be described as ?doom?. If it were up to me, i wouldn't be restricted to any genre.Aeon Fux is something that i'm working on that doesn't have a clear definition.
You are a huge deal to a lot of people, especially a lot of black wom en w ho don?t fit the m old and/or w ho are m aking ar t on their ow n ter m s and w ith little suppor t. H ow do you m aneuver being a r ising t alent w ho doesn?t fit the m old, w ho?s doing work on their ow n ter m s? T hank you! To be honest I didn?t realize that I had much of an impact on people and that means a lot to me. I think it?s so important for people with a story to tell to go out and tell it, regardless of criticisms they may receive for the way they look, or how little or how much press they might receive. We live in an image obsessed society and people who ?don?t fit the mold?are often told that they are less than, or not worth listening to. I?m not here for people to look at. I am a vessel for the stories I have to tell, and if people don?t like the shape of that vessel, there?s not much I can do about it. But honestly, if people can?t get past that, they aren?t people I want listening to what I?m saying anyway. Even though I can be my own worst critic, it?s important to remind myself every day that I have songs worth singing, that people want to listen to.
potentially appeal to both people and insects. T his is definitely my bug album, the songs are specific to particular species and traits of arthropods, and deals with dualities in the insect world that parallel human behavior such as aposematism and crypsis. Both humans and insects deal with different types of predation and handle it in lots of ways, and the songs I?ve written blur the lines between human and insect, predator and prey, and warning coloration and camouflage. It?s an ambitious project that I?m working with a lot of visual artists to create some strong images for, almost as if this were a multimedia piece.
I?ve come a long way from my beginnings, and far as my first year performing live goes, things have gone really well for me and I?ve made a lot of progress as a musician and as a person. I accept criticism that is valid, but when it comes to criticizing the way I look or dress, or even my gender expression, I don?t have much to say other than ?bye?! I get discouraged sometimes but I just have to stay reminding myself of how far I?ve come, and how far I?m going to go in the future. I truly believe that my future is bright and that is what helps to keep me going.
T he release of the album doesn?t have a specific date, because insects are not aware of time in the same way that humans are. T hey are driven by genetic memory, and I?m hoping to release it either before the O verwintering of the monarch butterflies, or after they migrate back to the U S. At the moment I?m not entirely sure.
You cur rently have a m ixt ape in the m aking, Aposematic. W hat can we expect from it and w hat hopes do you have for it?
I think that we live in a really great time for young artists to express themselves in lots of different mediums, not just music. Some of the most prominent artists I?ve seen on tumblr are teenagers, there are some really innovative
W ith Aposematic, I?m trying to achieve a unique musical climate with songs that could
W hat are your feelings about young ar tists m aking m usic today? W hat do you think about the m usic clim ate for young ar tists today?
young people who are making music, games,
art movements, trends, all kinds of things. T hey?ve grown up in a generation of computer literacy and are using and becoming proficient in these programs a lot earlier, and I think that?s amazing! I do think it?s really important to remember how young these people are though; I?ve seen some really harsh criticisms of young artists that are put on pedestals so early in their lives, who aren?t celebrities, who are just creators using this platform like everyone else. It?s important to remember that these are living, breathing creators, not just symbols or figureheads, and while I think it?s important to be critical of problematic material, if it?s just not something you vibe with, let them live. W ho are som e ar tists you are into r ight now, not just m usicians but anybody in the creative work you think is rad? I?ve been paying a lot of attention to artists on Tumblr lately, so I kind of have a decent list! I think collaboration and networking is really important, and there have been a lot of amazing artists and collectives that I?ve either had the pleasure of working with or that I love to promote on principle of what they?re doing.
As far as visual artists, K00ps on tumblr is someone whose work I admire and love to see on my dashboard; I?ve actually commissioned him for some work for Aposematic and merch I?m hoping to release very soon. O dlaws (art blog O draws) is another great visual artist on tumblr. Anatola H oward is a young visionary I?ve had the pleasure of working with, they are a game developer and visual artist. Another amazing young person doing excellent work with photography is M ars, Sensitiveblackperson on tumblr. Uno Moralez and JamesJirat are two visual artists who inspire me as well. Larvalhex on tumblr has a great clothing line called WET WAR E that is releasing some new pieces really soon, they have a great cyberpunk vibe to them and I love repping that brand! I connect with a lot of visual artists on tumblr frequently, and a large portion of my I R L friends are visual artists as well. Someone on tumblr who has impacted a lot of people visually is Jasmine N ursary, who at this point I think everyone is at least vaguely familiar with due to her strong aesthetic. Listen to more Aeon Fux at aenfux.bandcamp.com. Aposematic comes out very soon.
A musician I work with frequently and look up to heavily is Nightspace, he?s a self taught electronic musician who plays almost every instrument I can think of, and is truly a creative powerhouse that I?m excited to have the pleasure of working with and listening to. I?m also a big fan of Babeo Bagginsand Barftroop, who are really well known on tumblr! T hey?re doing really incredible work and opening doors for qpoc and I?m incredibly down with what they?re doing. T here's Crimewave/Boiler Boyz, who release a lot of music and media on tumblr, and Form & Shape and Oak Body who I collaborate with frequently, who make incredible beats. Ikea Graveyard is another great musician who I really admire and love listening to.
www.website.com
shot by Yusra Siddiqui model: Bonita Okonkwo styling: Bonita
bonita!
THE L AST TI M E I CRI ED
by Kendahl Rose
the pink suitcase?
made my way into my new apartment building.
erratic and rash stolen treasures gone like trash last pieces I had
I had moved a few things to my new place so I didn?t have to take an extra trip to the old place which is a twenty minute walk if you conveniently miss the bus that comes every forty five minutes maybe. my best friend was waiting for me in our new place to go get the rest of our stuff from the nation of nasty and make like the jeffersons. both tired and irritable we excitedly dragged ourselves from the bus stop, up the very steep hill, through the door to our building, and up the steps to our former abode. unlocking both the deadbolt and latch and swinging the door open all the reasons for the early termination of our lease hit me in the face at once. in a nanosecond the stench from the decrepit carpet consumed my nose along with the stench of raid on steroids. this was soon followed up with the sight of the, what was most likely blood or some type of other bodily fluid, stained carpet and flat, smudged, off white hastily painted walls. I snapped out of my two second trance and focused in on the task at hand.
moving out of this bed bug infested hell felt damn near as good as my nana?s cornbread and goulash tastes on an empty or full stomach. the anticipation built inside of me all day at work. as soon as the clock struck two o?clock my little round ass was dashing downstairs to punch out and punch into my new life in a new place with my best friend. my typical two hour trip from georgetown to hyattsville went normally. there was your typical awkward and unwanted advances from strange men old enough to be my great grandfather, typical delays on the metro, typical strange stares from less colorful people incapable of receiving my color filled weirdness, and my personal favorite and most typical delays on the faulty metro system. still energized from my night of four hours of sleep, six hours of work in retail, and four hour trip total both ways from the metro; I
that?s when I made eye contact with the ominous hole in the living room where my hot pink pop of love used to be. you know how you know something is gone but convince yourself it might still be there? like that balloon you jump up two feet into the air to catch but know you can?t reach because it already floated ten feet into the air or that person you hung onto until they evaporated into thin air and then stood there trying to grasp the mist because it still had their scent. that was me running around this nightmare looking for my suitcase even though I knew, as soon as I peered into that space, that it was gone.
wasn?t the first time, but as a black woman in this world chances are that it will not be the last or the most monumental blow that I face. in a way this event is one of many to trigger new ideas, concepts, and experiences to channel into art that translates to the world. I?ve seen black women and other women of color carry things that don?t belong to them and all my life I?ve wondered why they complain about that pain in the small of their backs or the crook of their necks.
YOU KN OW H OW YOU KN OW SOM ET H IN G IS GON E BU T CON VIN CE YOU R SELF IT M IGH T ST I LL BE T H ER E? this situation was too familiar to me. it was even dare I say it, typical. in my small fit of mania I thought about all the other times beginning as a young girl things had been stolen from me personally or the women I saw around me; grandmothers with innocence stolen in a time and place where things so foul were buried in the yard and just shallow enough to smell but deep enough to ignore, aunts with light stolen from their eyes from sweltering blows to the face from ?friends? who couldn?t quite cope with their emotions, or the closest and most familiar moms with lives stolen away from years of struggle. I could not believe this was happening to me again after everything I already had going on. everything went through my mind in the weeks following this incident as I tried to track down the heinous being who decided to still from someone on their last leg. grappling back and forth between rage and depression, sometimes crying through gritted teeth and screaming until my throat was raw, my mind raced through memories of tears cried over things holding much more gravity than a stolen suitcase.it hurt because it
Llevo la frontera donde voy (la llevo en m is her idas abier t as) by Christina Pinedaa Renuncia: Esta historia esta based on una ficcionalizacion de reality. Similitudes a personas living or dead no son coincidencias. Sabes que hay un golfo entre nosotros? Le pregunte a mi novio una vez cuando estábamos en la cama esperando el sueño. Cuando no se que decir, me aprieto losdientes. La primera vez que visite la familia de Henry en Portland, me apriete losdientespor cinco días. Solo abria la boca para comer, o en circunstancias calamitosaspara responder a preguntas. Incluso mi boca no se relajaba. Me preguntaban de donde soy, y lesdicia LosAngeles, pero se quedaban esperando. Loshago preguntar otra vez antesde decirlesla historia de mi familia. I?ve alwayswanted to be born south of the border, dice la mamá de Henry. Falto por un momento. Si, digo, y se me pegan losdientes otra vez. Antesde irme al aeropuerto, la mama de Henry me pregunto When will Henry be visiting you in LosAngeles? Nuca, le quiero decir, pero no puedo despegar losdientes, y el dolor de cabeza que me ha molestado implacablemente se doble con fuerza.
Spring means shorts and shorts means shaving. I am sitting on the grass in shorts, and I am calling my mom. T here is a scab on my leg and every time the phone rings, I rub my finger against the place where I pressed too hard with the razor this morning. M om, I say when she answers. M om, everything is fine here, classes are great. Also I am going to Canada after finals with some friends. T he scab on my leg loosens when she asks, which friends. Well, I tell her, H enry is going. T he scab falls off and I am left rubbing the raw pink skin beneath it. I continue, and I am also going and that is friends because I am a friend of myself. If my leg starts to bleed I don?t notice, because I am thinking: I am really going. Even if she says no. O r maybe I am thinking: Am I really going? Even if she says no?
N o, él dijo besándome. N o hay espacio entre nosotros.
T hey don?t even know my name, le mando por text a mi amiga cuando pregunta como me va con la familia del novio. Hisdad keepscallingme Christine and now so iseveryone else. He doesn?t correct them??? me respondió por inmediato. I don?t know if he notices, le digo. Y mando otra vez: T hey don?t know my fuckn name.
H ow do you say your last name? H e asks me after we start dating. It doesn?t really matter, I tell him. Sure it does, Pineeeda, he says laughing. N o, I say. Pine-da, he tries again. U m, wrong. Ok, he says, Piñeda. Yes, I say laughing, that?s definitely the worst. H e settles for Pinayda, and I don?t tell him I hate my last name.
Si lo hay, insistí, empujándolo de mí para mirarle la cara. N osotros somos de mundos diferentes. El golfo que existe entre nuestras mentes es enorme. La mejor sensación del mundo escaminar por noche en la nieve nueva con un abrigo. El sentimiento peor esresbalar en el hielo y tener que enfrentar la frialdad de la realidad. No se puede gritar en nochesque brillan con hielo nuevo, puesse rompe la paz frágil. Pero cuando le digo a mi novio, I can?t belive you don?t think racism isn?t a problema, mis palabrasse iluminan con ardor. Seriously? Le pregunto. No quiero aceptar la realidad. Estamosrodeadospor los edificiosde ladrillo de nuestra universidad. Me siento entrapada por losinstitucionesdel racismo, de la supremacía blanca, en todo que me rodea: la universidad, losedificios, el extranjero parado delante de mi. Que frío puede ser el invierno.
Two years, and I still get up to hug and kiss H enry when I see him. O ne day I won?t but for now I do and I am happy. H enry tells me about a conversation from his seminar, and asks me what I think. I mean? I say, looking at my bowl of rice. T he kitchen feels stuffy and I don?t have a fan. I am having a conversation with H enry?s seminar though him when I haven?t done the required reading. I try anyways. Its hot and frustrating, and I don?t know if I am doing a good job. I bring up my ethnic studies classes, critical race theory, post-colonialism. We are the mouthpieces of ideologies I don?t really understand. If I stop trying will we have anything to talk about? Why is my temper evaporating when there is so much condensation on the window pane?
De donde eres entonces? M e pregunta . Si no eres de donde yo soy? Pero me lo dice con chiste. N o espero ser convencido. It?sa Japanese symbol, me dice, y me explica el significado. T here?sbelief in buddhism, él empieza, y me cuenta una teoria. Lo escucho explicar, analizar, y clasificar a religiones, culturas, la cultura popular, comida y más. Tal vez también me explica, analiza, y clasifica a mi.
I couldn?t figure out why it was so hard to write about la Virgen de Guadalupe, but then I realized I was writing about her as through she was fact, and not a religious figure. H enry laughs, and the stack of books beside me don?t seem quite so high. Actually, I say, I?m going to keep writing about her like if she was real.
Soy de California, le quería decir, pero no era eso a lo que refería. N o era un lugar lo nos separaba, pero un sentido, una historia separada convergente cuando nos juntamos. Era la deferencia entre hablar inglés o español, y si el no lo reconocía, como le podria explicar? No veo la primera llamada porque estoy leyendo para mi clase de sociología, y apague el sonido de mi teléfono para deshacerme de lasdistraccionesde la tecnología. No puedo resistir distracciones. Primero llamo mi hermano Andrew, pero como no me dejo mensaje, lo ignoro. Pueseshora de cenar, y mis amigosme esperaban en la cafetería. Como arroz y frijoles, y no participo en la charla. Mi teléfono timbra tresvecesmáscon mensajesde mishermanos. En orden leen: ?Christina, dad isyellingat mom.? ?We are in our room and don?t know what to do.? El mensaje final: ?I think he threw the phone at her. She hasa bruise on her leg.? Se me va el aire de lospulmonescuando finalmente veo los
T he first time I flinch when H enry raises his arm too fast, he notices it before I even realize I?ve moved. I would never do that, he says, and it takes me a while to connect the dots. M y fingernails dig into my palms and I lie back down on the bed; look up at the ceiling. I can?t support myself, can?t remember what we were talking about before. Were we arguing? Was there anger? I know, I lie. I don?t look at him or at anything that isn?t painted white. I am supposed to be saying something, I think,but I don?t know what the right answer here is. T his might be a test. I
mensajes. No se que hacer con la energia nerviosa que entra mi sistema, y me encuentro caminando lo largo del campusacompañada por Henry, un cartón de cigarrillos, y mi coraje. I can?t believe thisshit, grito, I can?t fuckin believe it. Cuando se me escapan las palabras, Henry me abraza hasta que me regresa el aire.
cannot find the air. M aybe? I begin with borrowed breath, M aybe it would be ok if you did. I really like you. I would let you. It would be ok. M y voice fills the room, floating up to the ceiling I am staring at. M y fingernails dig deeper. I wouldn?t, H enry promises. H e looks at me for a long time before laying down beside me. Ok, I tell the ceiling. I cannot move. Later, in the bathroom I look for the blood I am sure will be on my palms, but there is nothing there. I think I have failed this test.
M e confundes, le quiero decir a H enry. Te quiero explicar algo, y me equivocas. N o se cómo decirte si no quieres entender. Somosamigosdespuésde todo? Antes, pensaba que podríamosseguir siendo amigosantesde que nos rompimos. Ahora se que ni fuimosamigosen esos últimosmeses. What a mess.
M y grandma says: M e case a los diecisiete años. She says: M e case por tres leyes, por la iglesia, por el civil, y por pendeja. She asks: y el muchacho que se quedo aquí hace mucho?
H ay un golfo entre nosotros, y lo tengo que cruzar cada vez que te hablo en inglés, pienso. Siempre lo estoy cruzando, y tú nunca lo notas. Lo extraño. No lo extraño. La vida no termina, y el mundo gira sin parar.
Some times we talk on facebook, but we usually don?t.
Pero no sé cómo decirle y el momento pasa. Lo abrazo más fuerte, para mantenerlo cerca, porque soy y siempre sere la que cruza el abismo.
Christina Pinedaa isa 23 year old student at University of Puget Sound, where she studiesand Politicsand Government. She isbased in Southern California.
I grew up in upstate N ew York but I was born in Jakarta, Indonesia. I'd only lived periodically in Jakarta and spent almost all of my time in the U .S. In my town, I was one of a handful of Indonesian kids and they eventually went back to Indonesia one by one as their parents finished up their post-docs or grad school. But my family stayed. Better "opportunities" here and all that. M y girlhood was about learning love in all its forms, especially how to love myself. I lost a lot of my language (my Indonesian is tourist level now) but I tried so hard not to lose myself. I was much more confident at 9 than I was at 19. So I decided to learn more from my past self so I could grow into a fuller future self.
Teta Alim isa student and musiccolumnist livingin Washington D.C. T he followingisa seriesof photosand collagesdetailingmomentsfrom her childhood.
ACONVERSATION WITHANGELINAFERNANDEZ
O ver the last year, many young artists have wholeheartedly adopted the internet as their medium. For marginalized artists, however, the internet has become more than a medium. It's our home base and, at times, a safe haven. T he slew of marginalized artists who have built their homes among the pixels are slowly but surely renaming the internet as a place for the marginalized and the other.n doing so, we pull the strings on what makes internet culture. Among such people is M exican American visual artist Angelina Fernandez, a graduate from SU N Y purchase and huge fan of the internet. In her artist statement, she stresses the cycle that makes up her body of work, "I work the way the online creative community does. Re-use, recycle, cannibalize, edit, play." Despite being a child of the internet her, work is entirely hers and entirely personal. H er collages, drawings, and sketches are stitched with personal experiences having to do with break ups to whats it's like being biracial in M exico. Via email, i decided to pick the artists brain on her work, memes, and what's up for grabs on the internet. * Just by t aking a first glance at your work, especially your collages, one can tell that your work is hugely personal and a huge par t of w ho you are on a day to day basis. W hen and how did ar t becom e such a huge par t of you? M an I don?t know I want to say like, at some point in college. Like art suddenly went from something I did for praise to something that became a need (maybe it always was but I was just able to recognize it). I can?t live a happy life without creating something. I don?t know why I have that impulse? sometimes I wish I didn?t, I feel like life would be a lot less complicated if I just wanted more straight
forward things. And it?s so weird too, like why do I want to create? What compels me to do it? If it?s not praise, if it?s not fame (and it?s not these things), if it?s not to leave my mark... what is the point? I feel like it has something to do with? my need to process & digest my experiences. If I let them sit inside my head I?ll just go crazy. I want to have conversations; I want to communicate with people. I want to connect, I guess, & find people who understand me, or who see things about me and about the world in a new way. I think artists above all want to have conversations. We?re solitary but in a way we?re very social. We have to be, to put our work out there like that, because we?re all just like? yearning to have a conversation about being alive. Tot ally. So w hat are som e them es that are a const ant in your work or that one can always expect to see w hen looking at your work? Autobiography, I think. Like what I?m currently living is almost always in my work. Whenever I get my heart broken I always make a ton of ugly ass art, and I kind of love & hate being an artist that uses that so much in my work like? just getting your heart broken and making work about it is so funny. For a second I kept listening to that song ?H abits (Stay H igh)? by Tove Lo, which is like this pop song they kept running on the M exican radio & that shit would just tear straight thru me! Like it?s this corny pop song & every time I heard it I felt like? a lightning bolt thru my heart. And I had to go home & make work about this awful feeling. I think heart break is so surprising cuz it hurts, and you make work about it & the work just doesn?t hurt like your heart does? but it makes you feel better. Like ?okay? now somebody KN OWS at least.? O r maybe it?s like, ?At least I did something about it.? And it really makes you feel better for a second. Being
heart broken is great for art, like, being in love & getting totally wrecked? I?ve made some great pieces I guess from that kinda thing. I mean I hate it but it?s kinda okay. Like, living after getting wrecked is like pretty spectacular. O ther than that this idea of girlhood, & family is important to my work. T hose ideas are kind of interchangeable for me. Like, my girls are my family, and my family is mostly girls (I have 2 sisters). So being with them is important to me, & like, them being part of my work is important. M y identity is difficult for me, but one place I?m truly comfortable in is with girls and women. I like this idealized version of girlhood, too? the pink things, the frilly things, the sisterhood. I like girlhood as an inclusive concept & in a way it seems like almost universal & beautiful. Like everything could potentially be an expression of this like, very elusive idea of girlhood & I like how versatile it allows me to be when I deal with it in my work. M y favour ite thing about you, you say this in your ar tist st atem ent , is that you work the way the inter net com m unit y does: reuse, recycle, cannibalize, edit , play. Can you expand on that a bit? I just like, love the internet community & how it plays. I think it doesn?t get enough credit. I rly am out here dying to these super ingenious
memes that basically come from random people just creating something & that?s so amazing to me. And their work becomes anonymous too. T hat so many people are using their creative impulse to make something funny & completely unexpected & like they don?t even get any money for it? it?s just magic. I?ve never ever been able to create a successfully funny meme. If you look at pepe (the frog) stuff, it?s all so simple but also so universal, and so fast. I wish I could make stuff like that! But I have never made a successful meme, man! Bc in a way like, internet memes & macros are just? they become super ephemeral. & I don?t think I make ephemeral work. Like I use that idea of just playing, putting stuff together & seeing what happens that basically comes from memes but I don?t have the lightness that people who make memes do. I put too much work & people don?t want to see work, they see 1 thing they?re ready to see the next 10? it?s how the internet works. I?ll say it has taught me to not feel attached to the work I make, bc there?s always more to be made & I appreciate that a lot. I never feel stuck bc there?s always something else out there.
N ow adays, being an ar tist on the inter net is very com m on but alm ost a bit like a r isk y business because everything seem s like it?s up for grabs and for the t aking, even w hen it isn?t. W hat do you think about the st ate of ar t on the inter net r ight now, especially for young wom en ar tists such as yourself? Yea I guess it?s risky if you?re like, trying to make it in the art world. But ?making it? is like super complicated & has a lot of like weird implications & most of them have to do with selling work. I?ve never been able to sell my work, I just don?t have the inclination to do that. I think like you said, everything is up for grabs & is up for the taking so it?s like, why would I sell this? It?s online. H ow can I sell this? It?s so abstract. I understand people sell net art, like I understand people trying to make that their livelihood but I can?t conceptualize M E doing that. H ow can I sell a conversation?
So it?s hard for me to answer this question. What I would like is more of this like, more women artists talking about their work in a relaxed way without a lot of art jargon I guess. I?m starting to feel a community in it, I?m starting to feel? good, like I?m progressing & meeting other girls who are making work. T hat?s what I feel good about, places like coalition or like the walker art center making specific efforts to engage with women (and specifically focusing on intersectionality).
Like I have a lot of hope for the future of internet artists, especially girls? I just think, the community needs work. & collaboration! I have no idea how to do that, though. I?m super bad at the art world, I really just work in terms of making friends who make art. Being bicultural is a par t of you that is never m issing from your ar t. H ow does having m ultiple backgrounds affect you as an ar tist and how you work? It affects me as an artist because having multiple backgrounds affects me as a person. I think people who come from two places often feel... I don?t know, placeless I guess. Like our identity is in conflict. Even though I live in M exico, speak Spanish 90% of the day, eat corn from the lady who sells it on the corner, I?ll still have these super disforic (sp?) moments where I just wonder if I?m a fraud, if this is all a big farce, if I?m lying to myself because I?m not ?M exican enough? to call myself that.
And I mean I?m not M exican. Because I?m American too. M y mother is white, and I grew up in a white suburb, and I went to a mostly white college. It?s so heart breaking to be assimilated into a culture that you don?t feel that you?re a part of & for those people to insist for a great part of 9 years of your life that you?re not M exican because you don?t look M exican, or eat tacos, or do a specific cultural signifier that they expect of M exican people. I think it?s
made me want to distance myself from my white American side pretty aggressively. At the same time, if it weren?t for my time in America, for my American side, I wouldn?t know nearly as much about racial issues, feminist issues, & even like world political issues that I do now, because there?s just no context for it in M exico. People aren?t stupid, it?s just a generally homogenous culture. T here are different concerns here. I?m relearning that now that I?m back. I?m relearning myself, here. M y art is just on the journey with me. T he world of ar t is literally throbbing r ight now, especially am ongst young people. A re there any ar tists, m usicians, etc that inspire you in any w ay? Yes, totally! I am always eternally in love with R afia Santana?s work. She?s one of my best friends & she?s just? always making stuff. I admire her the most out of any net artist that I
know bc she works so damn hard & she is so completely open & honest in herself & her work. N o one can make work like hers, because it?s so her. M ichael H essel-M ial is a poet that?s currently editing what is going to be a world changing poetry image macro anthology which I absolutely can?t wait to see. I talk to Ei Jane a lot on fb, her work is always interesting to peep! M an I wish I had more, but the truth is I rly just be in my corner like? I want to get to know more people cuz I know I?m just scratching the surface of a rly exciting community. It?s just a matter of knocking on the right door on the dang internet, where there are so many? damn? doors!
THEPAST FITS by Yasmeen Majeed
I am obsessed with history but my father told me that nobody else cares. H e says that soon, in the future and maybe even now, on that Sunday afternoon in Jackson H eights as we ate halwa puri, the world will be coded and programmed, that I should look to this clean and systemized future and forget the bloody, distant past. I cannot bring myself to do so. * T here is a moment in Ben Lerner?s novel 10:04 where the unnamed narrator stands before a gas lamp and feels time collapsing around him, as though the lamp were burning in multiple eras at once: ?H e felt that anyone who had ever paused before the lamp as he paused was briefly coeval with him, that they were all watching the same turbulent point in their respective present tenses.? When I first learned about the Partition of India, a history taught too late, unfathomable in its violence, its legacy, I began to feel coeval with people in new ways. We were once from the same place! We are standing here now, together, and fifty years before perhaps our mothers' mothers stood together too. * M y father grew up under a military dictatorship, which shaped his life in many ways that I cannot ever completely know. H ere?s one way: In 1965 Pakistan and India fought in a war in K ashmir. T he war was short and bloody and one of many. In the aftermath, bruised and beaten Pakistan banned films from India. A decade later, when my father was a teenager, when General Z ia staged a military coup and made himself President, films screened in theaters were subject to strict censorship in line with Z ia?s vision of an Islamic state. Like all dreams of piety and religious purity, it was a corrosive one. In seeking unity Z ia only drew more dividing lines. A small thing, magnified by the past. Although we?re in California, far from war and even further from India, my father lays down Z ia?s laws and I am forbidden from watching Bollywood movies. In my misdirected desire to reclaim my desi-ness I?ve been watching them more and more. I am watching Pakeezah when my father, walking by, recognizes the song playing. H e hums along quietly. T hey played this on the radio, he says. T hese things have a way of trickling down, small streams that I now know come from rivers. * Jackson H eights once more. Shahid tells me about bringing a Pakistani friend over to his house when he was younger. H is father, who fought for Bangladesh?s liberation in 1971, made gagging motions behind his friend?s back the entire time. We are having dinner in a Pakistani restaurant, clips from Bollywood movies play on the T V. H e tells me about his mother in 1971, whose old sister smeared black mud on her face to protect her from the Pakistani soldiers that roamed the villages for young Bengali girls. T his image, of two sisters in salwar kameez with mud-caked faces hiding in their homes in fear from uniformed soldiers, stays with me for days. I think of it again while reading Benjamin for class, who wrote, ?T he true picture of the past flits by. T he past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and never seen again.? T hese stories are all flashes, history seized with unloosened grip, while I am able to still hold on. Shy and cautious, I ask, What if you brought a Pakistani girl home? H e laughs then clears his throat nervously. I don?t get an answer. As he changes the subject, I think to myself, 1971 was not that long ago. It?s still so, so close.
COALITION The Coalit ion is dedicat ed t o conversat ion and dialogue bet ween girls of colour; where our t riumphs, t rauma, art , and st ories are t he main focus. We are int erest ed in t aking up as much space as we can while challenging academia and shallow definit ions of feminism. We publish 4 print issues