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A R T & A C T I V I T Y B OO K : ISS U E 0 0 1
Querida Mujer, I heard you crying in silence. ¿Quién eres? Te escucho. A bare whisper. ¿Dónde estás, my brood, where are you? My eyes sink futile, dense darkness envelops. Aquí no se ve con los ojos. No puedo perseguir mis lágrimas. The ocean is never still.
Querida Mujer es armonía de relámpagos y truenos; many voices you’ll find in its pages, breaking through darkness and space. A call out — a call in. Para encontrarnos vivimos in a world where you, mujer, are boxed, bottled, banned. Not like you (we’ve heard them say) así no, no, cross your legs (we’ve been told) be a lady (walls were built) bare you hidden. What you dream of my girl, in such a world is forbidden. Le pido al aire que en cada respiro me entregue el poder de mi espíritu. The sky is pregnant with falling rain.
Querida Mujer, hoy la oscuridad se ilumina; darkness lightens. Light breaks. We have pieces to share because we have been broken. Our shells are shattered because we have hatched. Like the breaking of bread at a table, the telling of stories, the taking of a lover’s portrait, or drawing one’s soul on a blank page. We dig, cut, tear, share, lay bare our naked spirits. Comment le mot partager en français or partake in English ó compartir en español: we split, part, fragment to unite, join, consummate. En dar forma a este silencio, comparto la energía del universo. This is Nepantla: this space is your creation. Your voice and voces are safe to grow here. The earth opens to sprouting seeds.
Querida Mujer, creemos y creamos nuevos dioses — diosas, I see in you the gods I shape in me. Así me gustas, justo como te gustas; just like you, I like you. Homegoing, we return ahead; like the setting sun, we pay it forward. Un brote de fé en lo más profundo, a veces lo más alto, de la montaña. Nuestra tierra nos llama : Nepantla : beckons our land. It is our destiny to return to unity. It is our destiny to be born countless times again. Fire burns from what once was making way for what must be.
Querida Mujer, I am her, I am here. Los trazos de tus suspiros los siento and together we breathe.
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I am my mother’s daughter. Que Sera, Sera. Her line of women, small in stature, strong in will. Singing Whatever will be, will be. Great Grandmother Kameko passed at 80. But when she lived, she lived. She outlasted a father of WWII. Bootlegger. Deported. She stayed. for her kid brothers and sisters. Two sisters were drowning, she could only save one. She had to choose one life over two deaths. Eleanor was a lady and a rebel. She chose love and broke the rules -- which have since been rewritten. Sue Lynn is independent, a subtle fighter. She chooses to find her own happiness -- regardless of widely accepted definitions. I am me. I am all of them. Que Sera, Sera. But the future -- it’s what we learn from the past and make of the present. Let’s move forward. Who are you?
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pause&breathe sit up tall roll your shoulders down close your eyes breathe in, 5 seconds hold breathe out, 5 seconds hold (repeat as needed) open your eyes turn the page
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She has this fear that she has no names that she has many names that she doesn’t know her names
She has
el hogar Te veo, ojos tristes, confundidos. Te siento, corazón frágil, cuerpo frío. Has visto esos demonios que te asustan hasta los huesos,
this fear that she’s an image that comes and goes clearing and darkening the fear that she’s the dreamwork inside someone else’s skull She has this fear that if
has tragado ese amargo vino de la soledad. Escuchas las voces de los espíritus negros y te envuelven en su miedo. Y por más que te ruego que me escuches, tus oídos se llenan de su veneno. Se escurre por tus venas y tus ojos ven la oscuridad. Mi niña, ¿no sabes que te amo?
she takes off her clothes
shoves her brain aside
peels off her skin that if she drains the blood vessels
strips the flesh from the bone
flushes out
the marrow She has this fear that when she does
¿Acaso se te ha olvidado? Se te ha olvidado estar en mi presencia, ojos abiertos y libre como el viento. Se te ha olvidado bailar al ritmo de tu corazón. Mi niña te estoy esperando a que regreses Ven y acuéstate a mi lado, déjame te acaricio
reach herself turns around to embrace herself a
las heridas
lion’s or witch’s or serpent’s head
Te cantaré hasta que tú corazón esté tranquilo
will turn around
swallow her and grin She has this fear that if she digs into herself
she won’t find anyone that when she gets
Déjame te arrullo con mi canto Te cantaré hasta que cantes conmigo Te abrazaré hasta que sientas la fuerza de mi amor Y así bailaremos juntas, sacudiendo esos demonios y les decimos adiós,
“There”
she won’t find her notches on the trees the
birds will have eaten all the crumbs She has this fear that she won’t find the way back
aquí ya no son bienvenidos. No los vamos a dejar entrar a nuestro hogar. Y si acaso esa oscuridad regresa y decides bailar con ella, aquí estaré esperando, hasta que decidas quedarte hasta el final.
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Coatlalupe: Tus garras tu tierra cavas Tu cuerpo, mis hijxs En tu vientre duermen Sus cenizas, nace el nopal: Con lágrimas florece Sobre tu cuerpo moreno serpientes Suaves se deslizan adentro de ti me llevan Para volver a nacer Humanidad serpiente: Ser sin manos Tú que sabes crear sin poseer Dar vida sin tener Recibe mi corazón te regalo Este sacrificio, este dolor De diario nacer Con amor creer En ti: mi diosa, mi virgen, mi madre Mi tierra: Coatlalupe
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mamá
¡Chiquitibum a la bim bom ba! You lost your love for cooking a long time ago Thanks, patriarchy but you’ll make me enchiladas suizas every single time I ask con mucho amor y cariño It’s been over one year without those enchiladas And even when I tried to make them myself There was no special ingredient Your love to make them taste as good ¡Chiquitibum a la bim bom ba! She was different then, funnier and spirited would’ve been asking you so many questions Now she can’t even get up from her own bed by herself You’re changing her diapers A reverse from the ol’ times 50+ years ago Who’s taking care of whom now? Does it feel good? Does it feel like a pain indescribable, heavy, dark, filling your chest, weighing your whole body down. My god. Why. Why. My mom. Spare her. ¡a la bio! Con mi tendencia depresiva you didn’t fuck “¡Animo!” You’d say Siempre con puras porras that would seep into my soul, to cradle into its most painful parts and sit, glowing, reminding me of the possibilities within
¡a la bao! Who wants pictures of their mother dying? I want pictures and memories of her from her best years. Things fall down She falls down My father falls down Things in my pantry fall down I fall Down What is grief Grief and love, are they Intertwined But this is too much already ¡a la bim bom ba! Who knows how long we have together But your love will always sustain me You love me real hard Even across borders, across times Across memories ¡mija, hija, Rah rah rah!
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Our struggle then must begin with the reappropriation of our body, the revaluation and rediscovery of its capacity for resistance, and expansion and celebration of its powers, individual and collective.
Dance is central to this reappropration. In essence, the act of dancing is an exploration and invention of what a body can do: of its capacities, its languages, its articulations of the strivings of our being.
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Libérate de tus creencias limitantes. Libérate de cualquier duda que exista en tu ser. Suelta y ríndete ante la grandeza de tu luz. Confía en que tu mente y tu corazón caminan en una misma dirección. Eleva tus brazos al cielo vibrando agradecimiento por existir y estar en este preciso momento aquí.
Cuando observo el humo de mis pensamientos bailar, siento el fuego de mis emociones arder por mis venas.
Quiero sentir la libertad y que me acompañes en mi vuelo. Ven conmigo y desházte de mis miedos. Ayúdame a transfórmarlos en inocentes sentimientos. Quiero dedicarme a hacernos sonreír el alma. Quiero que tus besos tengan sabor a magia. Quiero que cada peca de mi cuerpo la cambies por deseos. Quiero que me abraces hasta caer en los brazos de Morfeo. Quiero hablarte con la mirada, sin necesidad de mil te quieros. Sí, solo eso quiero.
notitas:
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Dear one, I have 52 sisters And from each of my sisters hangs a solitary, undone thread. One man pulled each thread out From the wholeness of our being Worried away at them until they came loose Until they frayed and knotted while we weren’t looking, while we were sleeping — He was a busy man.
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It took me five years to see That I’d come undone. My thread is like yours Little sister It has unraveled my insides but Not my soul sides and I’m still here. I look down at my body and I see the holes where the stitching used to be, Tiny pinpricks of light that beckon Like doorways to other places, and I think If I could just get small enough to peer inside one I’d pass right through it and into another world. A world where I’d been Quicker Stronger Maybe wiser and Both more and less alone. But then I remember that raging solace, that sick and soothing sign that I have 52 sisters. And that every day we re-ravel ourselves back into ourselves We take back the loose threads and say yes, I take you, you are mine, We pull them close and whisper to them yes, I claim you, you are mine and then we weave them We stitch them together into something new, something full and shining and infinite. Because we are not the holes in the fabric of our being — We are the light.
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2. American philosopher, writer, and gender theorist known for her work in gender performativity theory
1. 1987 semi-autobiographical book by Gloria Anzaldúa examining the Chicano/Latino experience
5. Spanish surrealist painter and artist who worked in Spain, France, and Mexico 6. Virgin of Mexican origin known for her apparition to Juan Diego at the Hill of Tepeyac
3. 1949 book by French feminist Simone de Beauvoir (title in French)
7. Chicana writer and scholar in cultural, feminist, queer, and border theory
4. The one adorned by rattles, Aztec goddess of the moon, murdered by her brother Huitzilopochtli
8. Black American writer and novelist, known for Beloved and The Bluest Eye
9. Being in the middle, torn between waystraits
10. American writer and activist, self-described as “Black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet” 11. The one with the serpent skirt; Aztec godess of the underworld, and mother of Huitzilopochtli 12. Mexican painter mostly known for her self-portraits
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ofrendas creativas 4 Jaclyn Hartnett | San Francisco, CA I write stuff — sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. It is what it is. 6 Mafer Loaiza | Monterrey, MX “Cuidando Tu Alma” La esencia de la existencia humana reside en el amor; un te quiero cura al alma, activa cada célula del cuerpo, comienzan a bailar, a fluir, como una flor moviéndose al ritmo del viento. 9 Daniela Jasso | Monterrey, MX “El Hogar” Un ser viviendo una experiencia humana. 11/12 Susana Fuentes Escalante | Monterrey, MX “Coatlalupe” Woman/Warrior Poet 13/14 Alejandra Lucero Canaán | San Diego/Tijuana Borderlands “Mamá” Queer border-nagual stuck on one side of the wall. For now. 18 Alex Guzman | Tijuana, MX “Toma de CDNH” Artista visual y plastica transfronteriza. 20
Susana Fuentes Escalante | Monterrey, MX “Bloodless Murder Scene”
22 Alejandra Valdes Gastelum | Monterrey, MX “Notitas: Libérate” 23
Andrea Mtz. Del Muro | Los Mochis, Sinaloa, MX “Don’t Leave My Hyper Heart Alone”
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Erin Cousins | Denver, CO “Re-raveling: To wind oneself back into oneself; to reclaim the essence of one’s being” Nonsense woman; likes to write. Scared of birds.
Nepantla: a liminal space, a space of fissure, una herida abierta, the pain of a healing wound. It is the clash, el encuentro, of what was with what is, and what is with what should be. In this space, we sit in discomfort, creating conditions for recovery and surrendering to the process of becoming. In nepantla, the space of disintegration, we acknowledge that the borders between self and other, entre nos/otras, have been constructed, and therefore, can be deconstructed, the way we relate to one another imagined anew. Our healing must be expansive, it must extend beyond the periphery of our skin. Collectively, creamos otro mundo, donde se pueden respirar, con-spire: breathe together en armonía.
26/27 Danny De La Garza | Monterrey, MX “REVOLUCIÓN” Mujer cis, diseñadora gráfica, fotógrafa, feminista (entre muchas cosas más) me gustan los espacios sin censura y la revolución de la mujer cada una en su expresión. 29 Ana José González Muñoz | Ciudad de México, MX Me gusta dibujar...
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Kay Rodriguez-Burner | San Diego/Tijuana Borderlands “De Esta Tierra Crecemos” Educator. Creator. Abolitionist. Dreaming of a world without borders and prisons; a world where we cultivate radically different relationships con la tierra and one another.
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The vision, design and creation of this zine was a collaborative project between Kay Rodriguez-Burner & Susana Fuentes Escalante.
30 Mariah Rodriguez | Kane’ohe, HI “Egg Girl” Made with marker from the heart; from my marker to yours.
Co-Creator, Editor
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