Heartbreak Nation #5 by Heartbreak Nation Zine

Our fifth issue is all about passion, one of the hardest topics for me to write about. Throughout the last year, ‘passion’ is a word that has adopted about a million of different meanings for me, meanings that were even contradictory at times. It’s hard and, from my point of view pointless, to talk about passion as a concrete thing, unrelated to any time, space or personal circumstance, as I believe that, as all essential things in life do, passion is a concept in constant transformation, redefinition and renovation. It’s been two years since I created this zine. Ever since, I have changed and grown up, not only to get older, but also to find out more about the person I am, accept and embrace my cultural heritage. When the zine was born, I had some priorities – creating a space for young people to send their work to –which have inevitably ended up changing as the idea of what I wanted this publication to be evolved. Supporting emergent projects and artists is an essential priority now, as much as encouraging women to create and make art, promoting sorority in order to spread the idea that other girls are your sisters and not your competition. In order to achieve this, Heartbreak Nation aims to be a safe space for women, especially women of color, to share their experiences and projects, and also an inclusive space for both young and older women, supporting inter-generational dialogue. But mainly, Heartbreak Nation aims to create a feeling of community that will make it possible for us to fight for all the things we believe in without getting discouraged by the idea that our beliefs and ideas are impossible to achieve or become real, but encouraged by the passion to keep on creating. This is our first printed issue and I’d like to thank Teenage Editions, Pettirosso Press & everybody who had to listen to me talking about this zine 24 hours per day during the last months.

HEARTBREAK NATION ZINE www.heartbreaknationzine.tumblr.com heartbreaknationzine@gmail.com

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Al Smith Jane Mechner Sara Fernández Laura Álvarez Cia M. Ashley Armitage Daniela Gaitán Valeria R. Marroquín Ahida Agirre A.Z. Phadrig

Special thanks to: MINTFIELD, BRUJAS & NI SANTAS for their interviews and to Stephanie Griffin for the photos of Brujas.

A Sunny Afternoon Passion The Suburbs’ War Flower Child Road Trip Summer of Love Homegirl An interview with Mint Field Soul Trip The Girl’s Room Poems by Daniela Gaitán Magic Spells: an interview with Brujas Poems by Valeria Román Marroquín Mariana Am I any good at anything? An interview with Ni Santas Golden and calm

page 9 page 14 page 18 page 20 page 26 page 27 page 28 page 32 page 35 page 36 page 42 page 48 page 54 page 58 page 65 page 66 page 68

Pictures by Al Smith Thanks to Lee Phillips for modeling

Many times, I say that Cutrevilla is an actual hell, and I used to think my parents loathed me by making sure I stayed home at night. I used to find the truth on somebody else’s views on my situation, who didn’t actually knew what it was to live in a small town like Cutrevilla, and the worst part of it is that I thought they were right. I always thought of my hometown as a part of a divine punishment, just like my physical features mistakenly-perceived as “flaws”: they were a part of the purgatory which I had to face before reaching heaven, the start of my REAL life, in which I was an independent woman with confidence on herself and on her work and with a fizzy social life (plus having all my flaws erased from my heritage). For a long time I attached myself to that fantasy just to not bring myself down whenever I had to watch people pass by while waiting for the bus to arrive, people that somehow were more interesting than I was, and had much better things to do than I did. Explained in other words, up to me, living in a small town out in the suburbs was a stigma. Nevertheless, once I finished my first year at university I realized that I had nothing but time ahead of me. Literally, at Cutrevilla there’s never anything to do, it’s too hot to go outside during the day, and I’ve never known anyone to share loneliness with, as I didn’t really share any interest with the people I knew at the time. After what I consider to be the hardest year of my life so far, I even daydreamt about summer and about it to last forever. I then realized I had never questioned anything anyone had ever told me, and figured out that I had been drowning in the angst of the stigma. Somehow my mind had changed once I got into high school to an unpractical way as I put myself in contact with people who shared my taste but who had lived a different life as a result of living in the city or nearby and who had accessed the “cool parties” that I could never afford to attend: that is when I found the stigma. I thought that this absence me the underdog of the new world I wanted to belong to, and I forgot what the absence of these experiences had brought me: time to spend alone, doing whatever I pleased and then again I remembered how much I had missed that during this first year of university. That’s how I fell back in love with Cutrevilla. I realized that, actually, everything I learnt on all those summers spent alone in my room was the germ of all the projects that I had been developing during the year, that knowledge was the germ of who I am and of my interests and conversations, that time was my retreat, my stress reliever, and at the end of the day, it was the only time I gave myself to just exist. I came up with the conclusion that the only thing memorable about living in Cutrevilla is the time I spend in Cutrevilla. It isn’t true that in the suburbs people is nicer, life isn’t better either, and most of the times the most “in touch” you get with nature is getting fleas in a thistle field. What is true, though, is that if you finally make it to escape the suburbs, you have made it - and that deserves acknowledgement.

You and I (and one or two flies) are in the backseat, enduring lukewarm Cokes we bought twelve miles ago and the sun in our eyes: all the traffic jams and coups and the other bad news fuzz in and out of the car radio and - listen, says the passenger seat, this world has nothing left to lose – the sat-nav is lying to the driver. We don’t have a clue. The South-East can expect bright spells for the next fortnight… clashes with At the next set of lights, take the first right… But we know we won’t. In hindsight, we’ve learnt that these things are seldom true, or right.

By Cia M.

By Sara Fernández

Amor Amezcua and Estrella Sánchez are the names behind Mint Field, the Mexican band whose first EP, Primeras Salidas, was released last year. Last year, they released their first EP Primeras Salidas. Now, after having played in festivals such as Coachella, they are working on their debut album and plan to make an international tour soon. Interview by Inés Cardó Picture: courtesy of Mint Field

1. ¿How did Mint Field begin? Mint Field began on the autumn of 2014 with just the two of us. Back then we both wanted to make music and one day we got together to play and ended up creating sounds we liked, so we went on making music just for fun and the rest eventually arrived. 2. How would you describe your sound? What are your influences? We think our sound is a mix of lots of bands and genres we listen to like dream pop, noise, ambient a bit of kraut and shoegaze. Our influences are Brian Eno, Laurie Anderson, Broadcast, Cocteau Twins, Slowdive, MBV and many more. 3. What inspires you in the moment of writing songs? What do you try to tell, transmit or make feel through them? When we make music, it is because we are sensitive to absolutely everything that happens to us on our daily lives. We think it’s something very personal, and it’s not necessarily that we want to tell or transmit something, just the experiences of our day to day or the nostalgia of living where we live, the colors of the sky, the coldness, our memories, etc… all of that defines what we want to capture into a song. 4. In April of this same year you played at Coachella. How was the experience? How were you received by the public? Coachella was a beautiful experience and it’s still hard for us to realize it has happened. It was amazing. Playing in one of the world’s biggest festivals, in a huge stage with many bands that we love and that inspire us was a dream. The first week of the festival, none of us knew what to expect and in the moment of playing, we opened the Outdoor theatre early, so when we started to play there wasn’t so many people. It all happened during our set: it was amazing to see the people walking towards us while we played. It was magical, we tried to give the best show we could and it seems that people realized that.

5. Did you thought of your participation on the festival as a chance of promoting the Mexican music scene? Could you speak a bit about the scene and recommend other artists? Totally! When we knew we were going to play, we thought of all the Mexican – and even Latin American – bands that need to be known out there and in every moment we could, we took the opportunity to promote those bands. For us, living in Tijuana now, we feel that we’re on a revival of music. There are many people making music and that’s spreading to all the country. We’ve got friends in bands we love like Hawaiian Gremlins, Policias y Ladrones, Nelson y los Filisteos, El Shirota, Entre Desiertos, Jóvenes Adultos. 6. Regarding the presence of women in the Mexican music, how do you see the situation? It’s weird because for us, girls, this is something that has never mattered a lot because in reality there aren’t so many girls making music in Mexico. When we’re making music we never think of the fact we’re women or in the image we’re giving. We’re sure there are a lot of girls out there making wonderful music but we’re yet to discover them. 7. What impact do you think coming from Mexico, and specifically Tijuana, has had in your music? Our music or at least the first things we made with Mint Field has had a direct impact from our birthplace, what we’ve lived and what surrounds us every day, we’re not sure what impact it was but we’re sure it’d have been different if we didn’t live in Tijuana. 8. Finally, how’s the future like for Mint Field? Do you have plans of making any international tour? Do you have other personal projects aside from the band? Our plants for Mint Field are releasing our debut album by the end of autumn and by the beginning of next year, we want to tour around Mexico, the United States and Europe.

Follow Mint Field on Instagram (@mintfieldband) and Facebook (mintfieldband) for more.

Pictures by Ashley Armitage

SIAMÉS Daniela Gaitán

Últimamente he imaginado sus cuerpos unidos Dos cabezas moviéndose en el mismo tiempo y espacio Con la velocidad que la situación supone. Aquí la situación es que te estás poniendo viejo, más que de Costumbre. Si tuvieras un siamés, el tiempo y el espacio No te harían justicia: Imagina otra cabeza pero no sabes cuál es su peso Imagina que se alimenta pero no sabes qué come Imagina que lo entierran pero no te dicen por qué. Así debe ser decirte ‘’ i didn’t want to hurt you but i knew i would’’ Así debe ser decirte ‘’ i wanted to hurt you but just a little bit’’ Asì debe ser decirte ‘’i really wanted to hurt you but i didn’t want you to know it was me’’ Ya te vas dando cuenta que ha sido una mala mañana. Estoy agotada de mi peso. Escribo como si tuviera algo más que decirte:

Abro las ventanas y me cansa el cielo permanente y azul Ciertas cosas parecen más importantes si las digo en inglés Cierro los ojos simulando estar muerta y siento que mi pulso es Una broma. Mira, esto no es nada. No me importa tu otra cabeza, puedo estar peor, de veras. Suelo ponerme solemne cuando desayuno tarde y Usar mi cara de tragedia para que los que me ven entiendan Que estoy pasando por un momento de mi vida Donde no quiero preocuparme por las manchas del baño. Se me antoja dejarlas ahí

SIAMESE Translated by Inés Cardó

Lately I’ve imagined their bodies united two heads moving in the same time and space at the speed that the situation requires the situation here is that you’re getting old, more than usual. If you had a Siamese twin, time and space wouldn’t do justice to you: imagine another head but you don’t know its weight imagine it gets feed but you don’t know what it eats imagine it gets buried but they don’t tell you why. that’s how it should be to tell you: ”i didn’t want to hurt you but i knew i would” that’s how it should be to tell you: “i wanted to hurt you but just a little bit’’ that’s how it should be to tell you: ‘’i really wanted to hurt you but i didn’t want you to know it was me’’ you begin to realize it’s been a bad morning I’m tired of my weight I write as if I had something else to tell you: I open the windows and the permanent and blue sky tires me certain things seem to be more important if I say them in English

I close my eyes simulating to be dead and I feel that my pulse is a joke. Look, this is nothing. I don’t care about your other head, I can be worse, indeed. I usually get solemn when I have breakfast late and use my tragedy face so those who see me understand that I’m going through a moment in my life in which I don’t want to worry about the stains in the bathroom I feel like leaving them there

PROBLEMAS DE CONEXIÓN EN LA RED Daniela Gaitán

Mi madre ingresa al lugar en firma de pelota de béisbol y Pregunta si la tele está encendida. La ubico en el mejor sitio y ordeno. Una mesera muy guapa me pasa una charola Con una notica /en una caligrafía preciosa como a la antigua/ Que dice: ‘’lo sentimos no podemos atenderlos, experimentamos problemas personales’’ Salimos. Mi madre ingresa al lugar en forma de candelabro y cantamos Juntas chandelier de Sia Porque también nosotras queremos saltar Y vivir como si el mañana no existiera Y atravesar la noche como un pájaro azul, inclusive si ahora mismo Somos dos estatuas de sal. Mi madre ingresa al lugar en forma de brújula pero No indica bien el norte o sur. Como huele a tierra mojada pensamos que es mejor que ingrese en forma de paraguas: Mi madre ingresa al lugar en forma de paraguas. De paraguas nuevo, De esos por los que deseas que llueva pronto para poderlo usar. Pero no llueve y otra mesera guapa nos pasa otra charola con otra nota /con otra linda caligrafía/ que dice lo que ya sabemos.

CONNECTION PROBLEMS Translated by Inés Cardó

My mother enters the place as a signature in a beisbol ball she asks whether the tv is on I put her in the best place and I tidy a very pretty waitress hands me a tray with a note /in a beautiful old calligraphy/ that says: ‘we’re sorry, we can’t help you, we’re going through personal problems’ we go out. my mother enters the place in the shape of a chandelier and we sing together ‘chandelier’ by Sia because we also want to sing and live like there’s no tomorrow and go through the night like a blue bird, even if right now we’re two salt statues my mother enters the place in the shape of a compass but she doesn’t indicate well the north or the south as it smells like wet soil we think that it is best for her to enter in the shape of an umbrella: my mother enters the place in the shape of an umbrella of a new umbrella those that make you wish it would rain soon so you can use them. but it doesn’t rain and another pretty waiter hands us another tray with another note /with another beautiful handwriting/ that says what we already know

No existe un ‘’ella’’ Ella es hermosa. Pero yo no quiero ser como ella. Tal vez no dedico tiempo a observarlo todo como debería. He visto la calle perpetuarse por horas y horas y eso me basta. He visto las palomas sobre los postes de la luz Recordarle al mundo que todavía no se extinguen. Y eso sí que me basta. También. Levanta una mano, su cuerpo se eleva Desde la azotea al cielo Hasta perderse en la neblina. Quisiera creer que cuando cierra los ojos Recuerda el espejo enorme que Vio un día en el almacén Tan parecido a un poso Que puede sentir la humedad en su rostro. Aquel espacio está lleno de carne, dentro y fuera Yo estoy dentro y fuera Y ella sigue de pie recordando con los ojos cerrados. En el bus cinco chicas hablan de un chico muy famoso. Desmedidamente famoso, Y se ponen color en las uñas. En la tarde me informo de más personas poniendo color en sus uñas. Yo pintaré mi corazón con esmalte de escarcha plateada Para que dios me divise a lo lejos y no se olvide de mí Si funciona Haré lo mismo con el tuyo. Me pongo de carnada porque tal vez no funcione Y nadie nos divise y nos quedemos sin dios De manera permanente. Tal vez nuestra situación no mejore Y no quiero engañarte.

There is no ‘her’ She is beautiful. But I don’t want to be like her. Maybe I don’t spend time observing everything like I should I’ve seen the street perpetuating itself for hours and hours and that’s enough for me I’ve seen the doves on the light posts Until they lose themselves on the mist Remind the world that they’re still not extinguished And that is enough for me. Too. I would want to believe that when she closes her eyes She remembers the huge mirror that She once saw in the warehouse So similar to a well That it’s possible to feel the wetness in her face That space is full of flesh, inside and out I’m inside and out And she’s still standing remembering with eyes closed In the bus five girls talk about a very famous guy Unmeasurably famous, And they paint their nails. In the afternoon I research about more people painting their nails I will paint my heart with a silver glitter nail polish So god sees me from far and doesn’t forget me If it works I would do the same things with yours I put myself as a bait because maybe it wouldn’t work And nobody will see us and we’ll end up without god On a permanent way Maybe our situation won’t get better And I don’t want to fool you

1. How did you girls meet? We all met skating uptown, or at parties, or on the internet, everybody comes to Brujas from a different place but we all share the passion of street culture and skateboarding! xoxo. 2. Why did you choose to be called Brujas? What importance or meaning the Bruja (witch) has to you? The name Brujas comes from a skate clip called “The Skate Witches” which is a cult classic that shows 3 girls pouring their diva cups full of period blood all over the guys that work at Supreme (that’s the Brujas remix). Just kidding, it’s these three white girls pushing guys of their boards, and is generally a sick video about punk rock skater girls who have pet rats and bad attitudes. Being that the skateboarding community uptown is 75% Dominican and then something like 99% Latinx we thought it would be cute to have our name be in Spanish, just Brujas. We didn’t set out to name a company or start a brand, it was just a monniker that helped me and the only other girl who skated at our local park to feel like we belonged to something. It’s very common for groups of friends who skate to have a crew name, sort of like in the graffiti world.

Interview by Inés Cardó Photos by Stephanie Griffin

We are Brujas. We are the descendants of strong women and of people connected with the earth. We are here as a cause of colonialism. We are part of a diaspora. These events have left our ancestors and their culture broken. We are a cause of this lost culture. The loss of not knowing our ancestral knowledge. Nevertheless we have gathered to retake our history and our power as scared women. - This is how Brujas begin to introduce themselves on the womanifesto published on their blog. For this issue, Heartbreak Nation Zine had the chance to speak to the New York based group of native and afro descendent women committed to the empowerment of women of color through skateboarding, parties, workshops and anti-gentrification meetings.

3. It’s hard to make it in the skate world being a girl, do you think it’s even harder being a woman of color? Why? There’s a certain level of interpersonal prejudice you will experience as a person of color in NYC, but for the most part I think the hardships that women of color face are enforced by institutions and state-structures that evidently do not value their lives. When talking about racism, Brujas feels it’s important to emphasize the disproportionately high level of premature deaths in our community as well as incarceration and poverty. This isn’t just about having different hair texture, but a deep seated material disadvantage. Written in Huffington Post yesterday, “Earlier this year, it was reported that over 12 Bronx teen girls who were missing for the past two years, raising community concerns of possible abductions and fears of a prostitution ring. Over 64, 000 Black women remain missing in the United States, and there is a stark racial divide in the coverage of when non-white women are reportedly abducted. Police often attribute the disappearance of Black and Latinx women to criminal activity, therefore, their cases aren’t valued as much. “Every other week our young girls are just vanishing off our streets,” Councilman Andy King said in a news conference. “Something is going on.” We had a camarada go missing, and eventually turn up dead named Maylin Reynoso. With almost no press around her disappearance, we had to take things into our own hands and organize to raise awareness in our community.

4. What do you think sorority means when it comes to Brujas? It’s interesting, after a few web articles we did went viral a lot more girls started skating regularly at our local. If I ever see a girl at the skatepark, I always say wassup and spend some time skating with them. I always get their instagrams as well and follow them from the @wearebrujas page to make sure I can keep a tab on as many of the girls skating in NY as I can, and to let them know they are loved and appreciated. I know all the Brujas who skate actively encourage all women around them to pick up boards, and if they ever see girls in the park are super encouraging. We have a super positive encouragement street team, whenever we’re out and about skating we try bring a breath of fresh air, filled with positivity and confidence boosts for everybody around us. Skating with people who encourage me is crucial; I always learn so much more and try new things. The reality is that a lot of the skateparks are filled with such bad vibes and toxic masculinity, cut throat competitive attitudes and cool guys who think more about their outfits than the well-being of people around them. The New York Skate Scene is pretty weird, and I don’t care that much about it to be completely real, but we do our thing wherever we go. The Bronx is definitely our headquarters and has the best vibes for women in the city in my personal opinion. 5. Here in Madrid, as a consequence of the male domination of the sport, we do have a lot of difficulty in finding girls who skateboard. What do you think girls can do to encourage other girls to start skateboarding? Anything that you as a non dude in skateboarding is automatically sicker than anything a dude does. You rule, and that nobody does or should care about how good or bad you are. Skateboarding is for fun! 6. I’m also interested in your idea of organizing parties. You’ve organized Sucias and also an Anti-Prom. Where did the idea come from? What do these parties mean to you? What’s their purpose? I think doing programming for youth, be it parties or little things like hikes or kombucha workshops (LOL) that are designed with native new yorkers in mind helps to preserve space and promote cultural progress in NYC. I would like to see Brujas take some more traditional organizing routes in the next few years and establish a bail fund as well as more tactical anti-prison work. Mass incarceration is a neoliberal alternative to public housing, people are literally being pushed out of the city and into jails. Our parties are part of organizing the youth, maintaining relevancy to the youth, preserving space and raising the vibration of the city as people go on with their daily struggles.

7. Have you noticed an increase in the number of girls who skateboard or changes in the way women are seen in the skate world ever since the beginning of Brujas? The culture has changed 360 degrees, so many girls are skating in NYC now, it’s not even an anomaly any more to see them at parks. The other day at 181st skatepark there were approximately 20 girls for a skate sesh we held, I had never seen anything like it before. 8. What are your projects for the future? Brujas is going to keep dancing and throwing parties, were going to solidify our political platform and open chapters in Atlanta and Chicago, I’m not even kidding yo! A video is in the works as well, but those take time so hold ur horses! love yall. 9. If a girl wants to join Brujas, what does she have to do? I think come to parties, reach out to the members, come to the skate-sesh’s make it be known that you are looking for community, even if it’s just through the internet and we will be there for you! We are non-exclusive group with a few male affiliates as well; all genders are welcome, with an understanding that our space and group prioritizes women and femmes who have been historically disenfranchized.

Follow Brujas at www.wearebrujas.tumblr.com See more photos by Stephanie Griffin on her website www.indaff.com

autorretrato circa mil novecientos noventa y nueve Valeria Román Marroquín

somos animales sostificadísimos de mecanismos desarrollados para nacer crecer hacer morir somos animales con las condiciones para medir la vida a una velocidad perfecta: así es como se ve el sol y las estrellas, por ejemplo y los carros y los teléfonos y las películas y el presidente así es como se siente nacer en enero nacer en enero nacer en enero en verano por cesárea cuando el cordón umbilical está enrollado alrededor del cuello así es como se nace vencido se nace a las siete de la mañana se nace capricornio ascendente capricornio así se gira alrededor de saturno así es como se calculan las longitudes y se lee el horóscopo y se cree en él así es como se abrigan los animales con sistemas nerviosos desarrollados así es como lamen el sudor que baja hasta sus labios cuando están sudando así enferman de gripe así duermen horas así las especies más evolucionadas en todo el reino animal rezan seis horas al día así se alegran de ser animales un poco más especiales que otros animales porque el lenguaje es equivalente a construir el mundo por ejemplo así nombran las cosas que pasan todos los días (esto es sol, esto es sangre) así nombran todas las cosas que los mantienen vivos (esto es sol, esto es sangre) así repiten así repiten así repiten las cosas repiten las cosas para no olvidar que existen cuando no están mirando para no olvidar que existen así toman las pastillas una cada doce horas así ponen la mesa así rompen los platos así esperan así esperan así esperan así buscan en google:

self-portrait circa nineteen ninety nine Translated by Inés Cardó

we’re very sophisticated animals with developed mechanisms for being born growing up making die we’re animals with the conditions to measure life at a perfect speed: this is how you see the sun and the stars, for example and the cars and the telephones and the movies and the president this is how it feels to be born in January to be born in January to be born in January in summer by caesarean when the umbilical cordon is wrapped around the neck this is how you’re born beaten you’re born at 7 am you’re born Capricorn ascendant Capricorn this is how you spin around Saturn this is how the lengths are calculated and you read the horoscope and you believe in it this is how the animals with developed nervous systems cover themselves up this is how they lick the sweat that goes down to their lips when they’re sweating this is how they get a cold this is how they sleep for hours how the most evolved species of the whole animal kingdom pray six hours per day how they get happy for being animals which are a bit more special than other animals because language is equivalent to building the world up for example this is how they name the things that happen every day (this is sun, this is blood) this is how they name all the things that keep us alive (this is sun, this is blood) this is how they repeat how they repeat how they repeat the things repeat the things for not forgetting that they exist when they’re not looking for not forgetting that they exist this is how they take pills one each twelve hours this is how they lay the table how they break the dishes this is how they wait how they wait how they wait how they google:

“cómo ser feliz en diez pasos” “las personas delgadas son un 30% más felices que las que no lo son, o sea yo” “cuánto cuesta ese 30%” “cuánto cuesta bajar de peso” “cómo bajar de peso en tres segundos” “cómo bajar de peso llorando” “cómo bajar de peso sin moverme” “cómo no moverme” “cómo no moverme si hay algo dentro dentro muy dentro mío que se mueve” “hay algo que se mueve dentro mío son hormigas cómo mato a las hormigas de mi corazón” “cómo mato a las hormigas” así es como creen que mañana se puede hacer algo hoy no así es como mañana no será mejor pero será diferente así es como mañana es jueves siempre será mañana jueves así es como no hacen nada así es como no hacen nada así es como no hacen nada nada es diferente así aprenden a tragar aprenden a fumar aprenden a lavar las sábanas a usar lejía sin quemarse la piel a estar limpios sin tener que tocarse así se levantan las faldas así es como se sienten incómodos con telas que no son algodón y se rascan y arrancan sus costras así es como se sangra así se reproducen así esperan así esperan así esperan

así es como se debe masticar una edad así es como se escupe en silencio

‘how to be happy in ten steps’ ‘thin people are 30% happier than those who’re not, that is, me’ ‘how much does that 30% cost’ ‘how much does losing weight cost’ ‘how to lose weight in three seconds’ ‘how to lose weight crying’ ‘how to lose weight without moving’ ‘how not to move’ ‘how not to move if there’s something inside inside very inside of me that is moving’ ‘there’s something that’s moving inside of me they’re ants how do I kill the ants of my heart’ ‘how do I kill the ants’ this is how they believe that tomorrow there’s something to do not today this is how tomorrow won’t be better but will be different this is how tomorrow is Thursday it will always be Thursday tomorrow this is how they don’t do a thing this is how they don’t do a thing this is how they don’t do a thing nothing is different this is how they learn to swallow they learn to smoke they learn to wash the sheets to use bleach without burning their skin to be clean without having to touch themselves this is how they lift the skirts how they feel uncomfortable with clothes that aren’t cotton and they scratch themselves and they pull of their scabs this is how they bleed how they reproduce themselves this is how they wait this is how they wait this is how they wait

this is how an age should be chewed this is how it is spat in silence

By Sara Fernรกndez

3. What kind of art activities does Ni Santas carry out? As of now many of the muxeres want to learn spray painting so our main focus is aerosol. We’ve done serigraphy, stenciling and screen-printing. We try to incorporate a myriad of art mediums because everyone has different skills and style they contribute.

Meet the L.A.-based WOC collective fighting sexism & racism through art. Interview by Inés Cardó 1. How did you come up with the idea of creating Ni Santas? We both had artistic backgrounds but lacked the safe space, resources and had no good access to materials within our communities. We saw that the art community only catered to a specific audience, and it wasn’t accessible to our underrepresented communities. Andi coming from her previous collective ovarian psycos an all female bicycle brigade, wanted to retain the sisterhoods that formed among women. She has been art instructor at Self Help Graphics for several years and saw an opportunity to support and utilize space and resources. I was always attracted to graffiti, it’s historic, and it’s the art we grew up with in South LA. It is dangerous and rebellious altogether. I just had moved back from traveling all over north and South America and was finally in the same city as Andi. Any chance we got we always painted together, our similar interests, art backgrounds and traumas brought us together and we just wanted to share that artistic healing space with our home girls. 2. How many members does the collective currently have? Is it open to any WOC who’s interested in becoming part of it? Numbers are still fluctuating but we have had good turnout probably 5-20 members, we are still trying to identify the core collective. Yes it is open to any Muxer no experience is necessary you just have to be willing to learn. We believe that’s what makes more muxeres join us it’s accessible to beginners or even people with some artistic background and we all learn from each other.

4. How do you think art can empower women, and more specifically, women of color? Historically we’ve been erased, and we have a responsibility to re write our herstory through art creating socially conscious narratives. It empowers us to support each other because we have that trust and healing space among each other. We only get stronger by coming together. 5. Why do you think it’s so important to create safe spaces for WOC to express themselves? Lack of resources and inaccessibility was the motive to create a safe space. Some of us never had access to art supplies but we loved painting and had to resort to stealing materials just to create. So within this safe space we have accessibility and no longer have to worry about getting caught up for materials we wish we had. 6. How do you think these safe spaces and collectives can help in the construction of a more intersectional feminism? When you’re brown (sometimes queer and non conforming)woman from the hood, your oppression isn’t only experienced as a woman it is any and all those things at the same time so you have to create spaces to be able to articulate those experiences. 7. Finally, what’s the message behind your art? Ni Santas is an all women of color collective working to write their history through art, with responsibility to create socially conscious visual narratives. Ni Santas envision creating a safe space by cultivating a community of women, free of judgment to nourish their emerging artists. Ni Santas x Ni Putas x Solo Muxeres

DORADO Y CALMO A.Z. Phadrig

El sol me pega directamente en la cara. El aire caliente y cargado de sal me despierta en la playa. No entiendo nada. No recuerdo nada. Echo mano a mis bolsillos y compruebo que mi cartera y mi teléfono móvil están. Ha desaparecido la llave del hotel. Tengo arena en la boca, sal en las pestañas y no llevo ropa interior. El suelo abrasa y no soporto permanecer más en este sitio, en esta posición. Me incorporo. Me levanto y camino hacia el paseo marítimo. Conecto los datos y empiezan a llegar cientos de notificaciones. Abro Maps y descubro que estoy en una ciudad distinta a la que debería. Llamo a Dani pero salta el contestador. Vuelvo a llamar y no da señal. Google dice que hay un autobús dentro de una hora a quince minutos andando en dirección oeste que me dejará justo en la estación que hay a 500 metros del hotel. Frente a mí hay una tienda de alimentación. Compro un litro y medio de agua fría y unas gafas de sol de plástico. Salgo y me empapo el pelo, la cara y el cuello. Se me moja la camisa pero no me preocupa porque eso ayudará a superar mi resaca. El Tiempo dice que estamos exactamente a 42 grados. Son las 13:00 horas. Tardo apenas diez minutos en llegar a la parada. Está completamente al sol y una fuerza en mi interior dice de manera muy honesta que voy a morir de inanición, deshidratación, calor y resaca. Apenas me queda agua y no tengo dinero para más. Noto el sudor frío cayendo por mi espalda y calentándose según pasa por mi piel. Quiero resguardarme del calor pero esta ciudad está hecha de piedra y ni siquiera en la sombra se está guay. Vuelvo a abrir Maps esperando una solución. Cierro. Abro Pokémon y veo un Charizard en una iglesia cercana. Abro la puerta de madera y noto el frío en mi cara. Huele a incienso. Hace frío. No se oye absolutamente nada. Camino despacio y mojo mis dedos en la pila. Dibujo una cruz en mi frente porque lo recuerdo del colegio. Avanzo. En los bancos de mi izquierda hay un tipo de setenta años con la cabeza agachada. Delante de él, un hombre de una edad similar mirando al altar concentrado. Mueve los labios despacio así que deduzco que está hablando con Dios o con un familiar fallecido. En los bancos de delante hay señoras arrodilladas. Me siento lo más lejos posible de estas personas porque no quiero que se sientan incomodadas. Miro el altar y me sobrecoge una sensación de grandeza. No es una imagen de Cristo sino de la Virgen. No sé muy bien cuál es porque no entiendo de esas cosas. Las vidrieras proyectan colores sobre los santos que nos miran sin mirar posando sus ojos violentos sobre nosotros. Todo es barroco. Todo brilla. Todo es dorado y calmo.

GOLDEN AND CALM Translated by Inés Cardó

The sun blazes down directly on my face. The hot and salty air wakes me up on the beach. I don’t understand a thing. I don’t remember a thing. I touch my pockets and I check that my wallet and my pone are there. The hotel key has disappeared. I have sand in my mouth, salt in my eyelashes and I’m not wearing any underwear. The ground is burning and I can’t stand staying in this place, in this position anymore. I sit up. I get up and I walk to the seafront. I turn on my phone’s internet and I start to receive hundreds of notifications. I open Google Maps and I find out I’m in a city that’s not where I should be. I call Dani but I hear the answering machine. I call once again but there’s no signal. Google says that there’s a bus stop within an hour and fifteen minutes walking to the west that will leave me just in front of the bus station that is 500 meters away from the hotel. In front of me there’s a food shop. I buy a liter and a half of cold water and some plastic sunglasses. My shirt gets wet, but it doesn’t worry me because that will help me go through my hangover. The weather channel says there’s 42ºC. It’s 1 PM. It takes me just ten minutes to get to the bus stop. It is completely in the sun and a strength inside of me tells me on a very honest way that I’m going to die from starvation, dehydration, heat and hangover. I barely have water and I haven’t got money to buy more. I feel the cold heat going down my back and getting warmer as it goes down my skin. I want to take cover from the heat but this city is made from stone and even when you’re undercover, you’re not cool. I open Google Maps again waiting for a solution. I close it. I open Pokémon Go and I see a Charizard in a near church. I open the wooden door and I feel the cold in my face. It smells like incense. It’s cold. There’s not a single sound. I walk slowly and I wet my fingers in the holy water font. I draw a cross in my forehead because I remember that from school. I go along. In the pews on the left there’s a man who’s around seventy with his head down. In front of him, a man of a similar age staring concentrated at the altar. He moves his lips slowly so I guess he’s talking to God or to a dead relative. In the pews in the front there are women kneeled. I sit as far as I can from these people because I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable. I look at the altar and I feel startle by a feeling of greatness. It’s not an image of Christ, but of the Virgin. I don’t know exactly which one because I don’t understand these things. The stained glass windows project colors over the saints that look at us without looking, posing their violent eyes on us. Everything is baroque. Everything shines. Everything is golden and calm.

Hace poco escuché a alguien que decía envidiar a las personas que creen en alguna religión porque tienen un lugar dónde ir, donde se les espera y se les acoge. Decía que da igual en qué parte del mundo estés, siempre que tengas dudas, miedos, dolores o desesperanzas, tienes alguna iglesia esperándote. Siendo cobijo de todos y cada uno de sus feligreses. Dándote un lugar al que pertenecer. Ahora entiendo a qué se refería. Me doy cuenta de que ya no tengo calor. Puedo respirar. No me duele la cabeza y empiezo a tener hambre. Miro a la Virgen y analizo su cara de sufrimiento. Se nota algo de esperanza en sus ojos. No puedo evitar mirar mi teléfono. Tengo mensajes y llamadas de mil personas que contaban conmigo anoche. Tengo mensajes de chicas diciéndome que me aman y me esperan y fotos de chicos que quieren follarme con todas sus fuerzas. Tengo treinta años. Soy géminis. Analizo mis últimos años y pienso en la cantidad de veces que he dicho te quiero a alguien siendo mentira. En las caras de esas personas a las que he dicho palabras bonitas solo para sacar algo a cambio. Me vienen a la cabeza las pieles desnudas en la cama y mi incapacidad de sentir nada de estos últimos meses. Los orgasmos fingidos con sabor a Jager y tabaco en mi boca y cerveza en la de una persona a la que llamo “cielo” porque después de trescientas citas aún no tengo ni puta idea de cómo se llama. Recuerdo aquella vez que vomité las sábanas rosas de aquella chica menor de edad que se puso a llorar. Recuerdo a mi mejor amiga llorando en la otra habitación mientras yo intentaba correrme con su novio. Miro las fotos de anoche y me veo radiante. Mi cara es bonita y mi cuerpo aún se mantiene joven y firme. Puedo pasar por una adolescente. A veces pienso que existe un cuadro con mi imagen pudriéndose en algún lugar que no recuerdo. Otras siento que soy yo quien se echa a perder mientras el personaje en la tela vive todo aquello que nunca me atreví a hacer. Mi teléfono vibra y llega un mensaje de Dani preguntándome dónde estoy. Vuelvo a la realidad. Miro a mi alrededor y ya no queda nadie en los bancos. El sol se ha movido y las vidrieras ahora acogen sombra. Me santiguo y vuelvo a los cuarenta grados centígrados. Corro para subir al autobús.

A while ago I listen to someone who said to be jealous of those who believe in a religion because they have a place to go, where they are awaited and welcomed. That it doesn’t matter where in the world you are, whenever you have doubts, fears, pain or despair, there’s a church waiting for you. Being a shelter for each and all of its believers. Giving you a place to belong to. Now I know what they meant. I realize I no longer feel heat. I can breathe. My head doesn’t ache and I begin to be hungry. I look at the Virgin and I analyze her painful face. You can see hope in her eyes. I can’t help looking at my phone. I have messages and phone calls from a thousand people who were counting on me last night. I have messages from girls telling me that they love me pictures of boys who want to fuck me so bad. I’m thirty years old. I’m gemini. I analyze my last years and I think of the many times I’ve said ‘I love you’ to somebody’ as a lie. Of the faces of the people to whom I’ve said beautiful words only to get something in exchange. The naked skins in the bed and the inability to feel a thing of these last months come to my mind. The faked orgasms with taste of Jager and tobacco in my mouth and beer in the mouth of a person I call ‘sweetheart’ because after three hundred dates I still have no fucking clue on what’s his name. I remember that time I threw up in the pink sheets of that underage girl who started to cry. I remember my best friend crying in the other room while I tried to cum with her boyfriend. I see the pictures from last night and I look radiant. My face is pretty and my body is still young and firm. I can be mistaken with a teenager. Sometimes I think that there’s a painting with my image getting rotten somewhere I can’t remember. Other times I think I am the one who goes to waste while the character in that painting lives all the things I never had the guts to do. My phone vibrates and I get a text from Dani asking me where I am. I go back to reality. I look around me and there’s no longer people on the pews. The sun has moved and the stained glass windows are now in shade. I cross myself and I go back to the 40ºC. I run to take the bus.