Pierette Kulpa Kaitlin Bryson Nathaniel Benjamin Malisa Anderson Breanna Denney DePaul Vera Dominique Palladino Denali Lowder Cristel Avalos Reena Spansail Jana Sibley Ana McKay Chris Lanier Omar Pierce Kelly Wallis Häsler Gómez Maya Claiborne Ray Mueller Ally Messer Collyn Aubrey Chris Carnel Lexey Sherdain Leona Novio Anna Benedict Isabela Reyes-Klein Emily Hoops Kendal Bryan Henry MacDiarmid Marie Dyer Kim Fields Liz Penniman Mollie Williams Andrew Fillmore Hannah Hasbrouck Vandana Ravikumar Omar Castaneda Marjorie Williams Michelle Lassaline Lauren Cardenas
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To Title a Self-Portrait Pierette Kulpa, Ph.D.
Take a look in the mirror. Now transform what you see into art. Where do you begin? With your face? Your eyes, the so-called mirror of the soul? Do you draw your body or your hands? Your chest or your shoulders? Or do you simply concentrate on your face? The ubiquity of photography in our day-to-day lives has revolutionized self-portraiture. The selfie is seemingly imminent and an instant portrait is always available when a camera lives within our phone. Before the selfie and beyond the selfie, however, artists were and are faced with a challenge when it comes to producing an image of themselves. The message of self-portraiture is no different from any other art genre. Agendas abound. An artist must select from among the various elements of their identity to represent what they want of themselves to the world. Will the painter choose to include in a self-portrait her artwork, her pet, her child, her fascination with soccer? Will the portrait be figurative or contain abstract symbolism? Each decision is deliberate. Details are magnified and omissions are powerful. As viewers we must recognize that as much is concealed in a portrait as it is revealed. The art object so carefully crafted becomes a test in self-censorship. In preparing this essay, I thought it might be appropriate to briefly survey this genre to set the scene for the exhibition at the Holland Project. In to what environments do these self-portraits enter? The answer: a rich one, full of many options, a few of which I present to you here. Some self-portraits require you to find them. You have to know to look for the artist because they are embedded among other subject matter and situated within locations with contradictory purposes. Among this type of self-portrait the work of
seventeenth-century painter Artemisia Gentileschi comes to mind. La Pittura (The Painting) or Self-portrait as the Allegory of Painting, as it is also known, exhibits the artist from her left side [see image]. We see Artemisia in a dark green dress against an otherwise unadorned burgundy wall. She reaches out with her right hand to apply paint to a hidden canvas that is perpendicular to the picture plane. The effect is supremely engaging. We wish to look at what she is painting, but it is impossible from our vantage point. We can imagine the interplay of subject matter however. Perhaps she paints the painting we are looking at. We can picture a reflective surface set up across from her and behind her canvas. She gazes at her own image momentarily and makes changes as she goes. Or perhaps she is in the act of painting one of her famous scenes of the Old Testament heroine Judith slaying Holofernes, the Judith figure bearing a striking resemblance to her own visage. The title provides another layer of meaning as well. We are meant to interpret her simultaneously as the object of a selfportrait, but also as the allegorical figure of Painting, the art that was her livelihood and birthright. These layered interpretations create imaginative opportunities for the viewer and seem intent on relying too heavily on any one meaning. Other artworks present themselves as self-portraits simply by way of the accessories in the field of view. Reflective surfaces in the paintings and screen prints of Michelangelo Pistoletto and in the photographs of Vivien Maier recall the very mechanics through which self-portraiture is attained. Pistoletto’s self-portraits evoke this process through the polished stainless steel surfaces upon which his painted tissue paper portraits are applied. The stainless steel alludes to the same technology that produces portraits, the mirror. Strikingly, his compositions create self-portraits out of the bodies of spectators while they simultaneously project the portrait of the artist himself. Viewers walking by or gazing directly at a Pistoletto mirror-painting are reminded of the variability of art through this constantly changing composition. They are forever processing themselves within the work as it morphs in real-time. As a result, the mirror-like quality of the picture surface challenges upheld conventions that artwork is eternal and stable. Instead it asserts that as long as these self-portraits are being looked upon, they are not the same, nor will they ever be repeated. These are all fleeting moments. Likewise, the self-portraits of Vivien Maier make frequent and clever use of reflective surfaces. Shop windows, shiny silver serving trays, and antique mirrors are the subjects that betray the prolific photographer’s expression again and again. Maier worked incessantly in New York and Chicago, capturing everyday street scenes, retail spaces, and barren public parks. Sometimes it is her looming shadow in eerie de Chirico like spaces that accosts the viewer, other times it is a smirking face in a full-length mirror, or a layered reflection in a shop window. Glimpses of Maier are mixed with populated street corners such that one has to search for the artist among unsuspecting shoppers and inanimate objects. The effect: enigma and allure, mystery and effortlessness. The people and their possessions become the setting for Maier’s self-portraiture. And her world is one that reflects her unique perspective as woman and artist in mid-century America. A self-portrait is an artist’s projection of the way they would like to be seen. Each of the works that claim this title and deal with the artist’s own identity are compelling compositions that deserve careful looking. Vulnerable and exposed, or proud and triumphant this unique category of painting provides otherwise unattainable access to the psyche of she who has produced it.
Kaitlin Bryson Top Image: To Maintain (itself) with Self-Sown Seeds, 2016 inkjet print 18” x 36”
Bottom Image: Sporulation | Release, 2016 inkjet print 18” x 36”
“My process for making Sporulation | Release, and, To Maintain (itself) with Self-Sown Seeds, was purely experimental. I was toying with the idea of using the medium of photography to capture moments where it seemed as if my body was merging with the surrounding environment or turning into whatever was behind me. I wanted to visualize my form becoming formless, my body becoming the earth, becoming the soil through the process of decomposition. This imagined state was sought after so that this metaphorical death could mark a personal transition into a new and more evolved chapter in my life. The long exposure photographs were each taken at sunset in the Valle Vidal of North Eastern New Mexico.”
Nathaniel Benjamin Me, Myself, and I, 2016 acrylic painting 24” x 18” “I heard an old person say to a young person recently that as you age your interests narrow. It seems to me that’s true. I simply don’t have time anymore for so many of the things I once loved, things I thought were an important part of who I was. My interests have grown thin, but I guess that’s simply the progression of time and what it takes for me to really dedicate myself to something - at least until eventually everything disappears and I’m nothing more than a memory and a creepy face on a painting.”
Malisa Anderson Pussy Identification Crisis: A self- portrait, 2016 Mixed-media: paper mache, acrylic, carpet, instant-camera mounted on birch 23” x 29” “This interactive piece is inspired by my childhood and also the sexism that exists in the current political cycle, especially the surfacing of comments by Donald Trump (“grab em by the pussy!” ). Without a father figure present I learned that men would “respect” me only through my sexuality. I believed that I had to conform to be accepted. I followed the exploitation of the “Divine Feminine” through TV, magazines, pornography, and social media. I now stand up for myself through awakenings and experience. I am unashamed of my femininity and acceptance of self. I control my life and I am not poisoned by the messages that have guided me before. This pussy represents the way the broken system views me: A solitary sex object. The camera represents “social documentation” whether through the Media, online or in actual social circles. Everyone has a choice. They can push the button and document themselves the way that they choose. They can create their own moment of self worth. Their own “self-portrait”. I would like everyone to do like I did: Take control of the lens. Stand up for independence, and cut all ties to what they think they needed through someone else’s eyes.”
Breanna Denney Untitled, 2016 Photography 13” x 19” “In the field of photography, it is known that all photographs are subjective and reflect the artist’s personal feelings and opinions but this relationship between subject and artist is not always apparent when looking at photographs. However, in some works, the photographer is directly mentioned by different compositional elements that come together to create a self-portrait of the artist (and their act of taking the photograph) without their physical presence being depicted. My piece aims to be of these self-portraits by having all of my subjects looking back at me and my lens, telling the story of me taking the photograph.”
DePaul Vera Cumshot (Self-Portrait), 2016 Acrylic Paint, Prismacolor Pencils 22” x 30” “Consistently throughout my work I have used the male nude to represent myself as well as to declare my attraction to the figure. To break away from literal representation but remain connected to my interest of the male in art, I have constructed a series of cumshots to explore portraiture of private intimacy. By emphasizing and personalizing moments of climax through a Pop Art aesthetic, I can provoke honest conversation of sexual health and education while displaying my own desires of explicit content.”
Dominique Palladino CumCum, 2014 Photography 16” x 20” “Kumkuma is a powder used for social and religious markings in India. Most often it is applied to the center of the forehead between the eyebrows, a location of the body which is believed to be the most holy. This area is referred to the sixth chakra and is believed to be the channel through which humankind opens spiritually to the Divine. Like Kumkuma, a bindi is a red dot also worn on the center of the forehead that represents the third eye and is considered the seat of concealed wisdom. CumCum is a self explorative assessment of the simultaneous bombardment and reassurance of spirituality. As our technoculture becomes increasingly dependent on our virtual personas, I question the authenticity of self actualization. Do we need our peers to see something in order to create or prove our identity to ourselves? Using rite and ritual to repetitively apply bindis to my face, I try to experience the sacred relevance of my actions. Left feeling both sheltered and yet overwhelmed, I don’t know whether the mask is protecting or silencing me. What feels like a naive projection of my own confused identity, I question the genuineness of my intentions and faith. As social constructs such as sexualized convention, jockeying of power and selfindulgence morph into norms, do they threaten the integrity of the sacred within us or does the sacred even exist anymore?”
Denali Lowder Castor and Pollux, 2016 silver gelatin print 8” x 10” “The idea of this portrait came to me over the summer, while I was experimenting heavily in my darkroom - my personal identity, loss, feelings of security/insecurity, and how I choose to emotionally and artistically express myself, and why. It rose from dealing with a lot of loss and grief in 2015, and being at a sudden collision with having to address my self, and self-direction. It is a visual representation of a period of personal growth, loss, introspection, and redirection.”
Cristel Avalos Sola, 2016 Plaster and string installation
“Sola represents the power of an independent decision-making process of identifying and choosing alternatives based on the value and preferences of an individual. This process produces a final choice that may or may not prompt action but produces energy that is always in motion and takes it in all directions. It’s a life force that gives strength and a connection that stretches but never breaks.�
Reena Spansail I Am the Sky, 2016 Mixed Media 7” x 7” “When I was younger, I laughed when I heard that people once thought the earth was flat. Growing up in a bowl in the shadow of mountains with the omnipresent sky above, it was obvious to me that the world was a circle without end. The western sky’s light and the Sierra’s ridge-line continues to have a profound impact upon my spiritual sense that I am of and for this place. This portrait is the result of my attempt to literally stitch my sense of spirit into this landscape.”
Jana Sibley “This is a snapshot of a longer term project I conducted between November 2012 and September 2014. People create self-portraits inadvertently through social media participation. This is the exact opposite. In brief, the project was sparked by learning of the public API and its subsequent integration between social media and commercial data management systems. From a state of awe and disdain I decided to take my social media interaction offline, requesting the physical mailing addresses of anyone who wished to participate in this experiment in which I would send one post at random by U.S. mail each day in lieu of a Facebook post. I opted to conduct this on a typewriter, as if somehow that might slow down time. Taking this interaction offline created a different relationship not only with the writing of each post but with the reader. These became not only social posts, but confessionals sent into the unknown. Each post was a self-portrait of myself disconnected from social media.�
Ana McKay Treasure, 2016 acrylic yarn, recycled sheer crepe, found objects approx. 16” diameter “The task of pinpointing my own identity required a medium that I could physically work very closely with, to shape and create exactly what I wanted. I use crochet and hand stitching in this piece to represent the twists and tangles and confused organisation that have shaped my own life, and everyone else’s. The integration of found objects is symbolic of the neutral memories and experiences that make me and all people who we are -- things that other people control and give to us to weave into the (physically manifested) fabric of our own lives. People bump up against one another and give and take without thinking, providing others with ways to shape their own lives in a manner that will affect them forever. That idea of applied experiences and how they shape me is the basis for this piece. The medium of nontraditional crochet in itself is representative of how I have grown with the help of others -- the skill was passed on to me by a beloved teacher, and I adopted it and adapted it on my own.”
Chris Lanier #obscureselfie Config 1, 2016 Photo print on aluminum 8” x 8” “These photographs are pulled from my Instagram, tagged #obscureselfie. This is, of course, partially a joke fired at the casual narcissism of social media selfies – our impulse to use our cameras as pocket mirrors. It’s a completely hypercritical joke, too – I’m still asserting “I’m here,” even if I’m eluding the facial recognition software that might be spidering through my feed, trying to match me to some nefarious security cam footage, or at least pitch me a hair salon coupon based on the status of my ‘do. Though my face is occluded, these pictures still give me a sense of being surveilled, snagging moments when I realize I’ve been captured, here or there, in a convenience store mirror or a vivid puddle on parking lot pavement. They’re records of places where the world has thrown up a reflection, giving me the opportunity to meet myself by surprise, as a stranger.”
Omar Pierce Blind Ox, 2016 ink, colored pencil, oil pastel, charcoal 6” x 8” “A drawing about solitude as a possible device of self-sabotage. there is a dual motif of the ox/Minotaur; a beast of burden and a tragic figure of isolation, loneliness”
Kelly Wallis Security Envelope Collage #1-3, 2016 envelopes, glue, x-acto 24” x 36” each “My current studio work is deeply informed by the industrious nature of my childhood. I was taught that failure was not an option and that quest for validation has never ceased. Perhaps because of the intense pressure I place on myself, I have become interested in the way in which this anxiety manifests in others. We choose to conceal or disclose our public and private information and in doing so continually self-sabotage. My work researches the visual methods for representing the internal negotiations and bargaining we get ourselves into. As of late, the materials used to make work are remnants of industry, security envelopes, that are transformed into a sculptural landscape visualizing intense labor, routine, release and control. The power of multiples in the pattern and repetition, the small quantitative details, the monochromatic palette and the strict rules I use to make, make up the formal qualities of the work and extend the meaning beyond my initial motives.”
Tired I’m tired of running running from my own heart from the feelings that sleep within my veins I’m tired of being ashamed ashamed of the beating in my chest how many nights do I lay my bare head feeling the rise and fall of my breath? I’m tired of caring caring about what you think caring about what it means to be— prescribed ideals that I will never fulfill because I’ve stopped caring stopped trying I’m tired of loosing loosing sense of who I am loosing myself within the haze of your eyes I’m tired tired of the illusions and lies tired of love and loss of sin and purity of sadness and joy tired of words of feelings tired of false existence just tired of it all sleep offers no rest and dreams offer no hope all I have is my broken mind and blood stained eyes and a heart that won’t quit even though I have. —h.r.g.
h.r.g. THE VEILED (what you want to say), 2016 books, plaster bandages, plastic sheeting, pallet 32” x 25” x 14”
“Identity is like meaning: it builds, decays, and regenerates. It is a constant cycle of making and unmaking. We create façades that hide what dwells within, but what truths do these lies tell? Opening up is a traumatic experience, for it is an undoing of what we have created. I explore identity from this perspective in order to question ideas of how we relate to and define each other and ourselves. My objects function as abstracted portraits that reveal little about myself, but act as triggers for those who come in contact with them. In doing this, I aim to break away at the constructs that perpetuate disconnection, such as: gender, race, age, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and beliefs in order to reveal a universal foundation for empathy and connection.”
Maya Claiborne Self- Portrait as a Heel, Part Three, 2016 Acrylic and Marker on Canvas 48” x 36” “Self-Portrait as a Heel, Part Three, is a complete exploitation of the socially and racially charged atmosphere I lived in as a multi-racial teen. The heavy artistic and conceptual influence that Jean-Michel Basquiat had on me is the primary fuel I used to create this piece; he created art stimulated by the sociopolitical problems of the 80’s, just as I, respectfully so, felt the same urge during uprisings such as the Black Lives Matter Movement. This piece is just as much about me as it is all of my brothers and sisters, it is as just as much about self-acceptance as it is a war cry.”
Ray Mueller Selbsporträt, 2016 intaglio etching with collagraph 5” x 8” “The inspiration I had for making this self-portrait was seeing the lithography self-portraits my dad made in the 1960’s and 70’s, and how interesting it is seeing all these portraits of him and how he saw himself, in a period where I didn’t know him at all. My dad created lithographic “chapters” of his life in the form of self-portraits, and portraits of people close to him. These portraits of his are an ongoing inspiration to my work, and this self-portrait of mine is a representation of a chapter of my own life.”
Ally Messer Echo, 2016 silkscreen on plexi glass approx. 14” x 20” “Echo is composed of three plexi glass panels with three self-portraits silkscreened onto them. Each symbol represents a different aspect of myself and my identity. The panels are aligned so that, from the front, the images blur together so that it is difficult for the viewer to determine what they are looking at. I am complex, human, and not easily understood--and neither is my portrait. Echo invites you in; look closely. Try to know me.”
Collyn Aubrey 90% Still Feels Lonely, 2016 Mid range Fired Ceramic, Glaze, yarn, paper, and wood 4’ 6.5” x 1’ 8.75” x 1’ 4.75” (without yarn ball) “This mixed media sculpture is a self portrait and a conceptual reflection of cultural stereotype. I anchor this work with Greek mythology to create attention to desire for connection and satisfaction, as well as the risk of being subjected to the reality of rape culture and probability for disease.”
Chris Carnel Curb This Self-Portraiture, 2016 Photography 11” x 14” “Walking through UNR one day I spotted an autumn scene that would make a cool environmental type skate photo. A bright red and freshly painted curb framed by a tree in full orange bloom had some pretty good late afternoon natural light. Having shot skating for a long time I instinctively keep my eyes open for cool things on the radar. The idea fell apart in 3 days as the leaves dropped and the weather changed quickly. I somehow couldn’t line up the timing to shoot someone doing it. There was now snow on the ground and this became a shelved idea. About a year later a spot I noticed looked similar in a weird part of Sparks that had a taller red curb and the same elemental things I thought would be cool for this concept (if the good weather held out a bit?). It was quiet and lacked security, but only at night. As an experiment I thought maybe I should just try to shoot the photo of myself skating to see what I could come up with. Lots of variables were involved as I was soon skating with a recent injury in low light (at first parked, using only my headlights). Stretching and a bright headlamp helped but I definitely had the occasional and random bail. Having gear scattered all over the ground with occasional cars and service trucks rolling by was sketchy too. Then there was hoping flashes fired every time. Weirdest part was counting off, timing it with my SLR camera in self-timer mode. On some I triggered the flashes, but late, which was another mental distraction while trying to skate fast. I also grazed my truck over a small flash a few times having it in the danger zone as well. For the most part everything else turned out ok. Images are as they came out of the camera. Circa- 2013. Phase 1 of an open ended personal project.”
T.R.A.P.P.E.D. by Lexy Sheridan I’m the word ugly I’m hideous inside The wooden splitters have left me bloody And they’re grating into my life I’m locked up in a house of horrors I can hear my soulmate pounding on the black walls It’s like a knife That I can’t seem to get behind I’m trapped in a cage made of flesh and bone My soul is desperately trying to claw its way out of this vessel that I call my own. My soul wants out of the jail called life I’ve become so frail tonight. The victorian statues and cobblestones are carved from sorrow Like your soul I am the animal that would tear the flesh clean But you’re the house that bleeds That devoured me from life Every inch of me is covered in residue of what you did and how you broke me in two. I’m trapped in a cage made of flesh and bone My soul is desperately trying to claw its way out of this vessel that I call my own. My soul wants out of the jail called life I’ve become so frail tonight.
Leona Novio For Those Willing, 2016 digital painting 15” X 20” “For Those Willing (2016) was a piece I began three years ago when I was trying to separate and define who I was apart from the influences around me. At the time I had a love for heroin and masochism; I was in a bad relationship with my insecurities. This piece attempts to recreate my feelings during those times visually. The smoke emanating from the dove is being inhaled by the girl. Her eyes are rolled back because it’s satisfying. The hands are gentle and lack serious grasp. The dove relates to the choice I made to step into the darkness and the choice to step out. The arms are cut off at the wrists and what’s inside is flowing out and upward. I want this to embody hope and decay. The colour, or lack of colour, has two meanings. The obvious is that it makes a stark picture. The second is ironic, because life is not black and white. There is so much to lose and to gain from experiences like these.”
Anna Benedict I Am Here, 2016 Graphite on paper, cardboard 23” x 18.5” “I am here. I will always be here.”
Isabela Reyes-Klein The Body of My Consciousness, 2016 Poems #2-3 of 17
Emily Hoops Untitled Diptych, 2016 mixed media approx. 3” x 6” each “This represents my connection to my father and our kinship. How a void ebbs and flows like the moon. How myself, and my grief, is ever changing and morphing into the next version of itself. This is a self portrait of my identity, my character, and development as a person rather than a direct representation of myself. Four years have past since my father died and recently I have looked at myself and wondered what he would think of the person I have become. I want to share with him my accomplishments and show him how much I have changed and grown from one phase of myself to this new moon.”
Blood and Rust In the meadow, Bright and translucent air White medallion hanging Above the horizon. Fear and love abandoned, An empty vessel filled again With an emotion undefined. It overwhelmed and soaked the spirit. Enveloped in celestial grace A whisper of a shadow appeared. It slithered in and out of the light Pulling with it a greater darkness. This malignant element grew until All that remained Was the forlorn talisman Glowing, gazing at the Blood and rust.
— Emily Hoops
Kendal Bryan Untitled 9-24 (from the series January), 2016 archival inkjet print, 24” x 36” “I do mostly self portraits because I am unsettled about my place in the world. I feel that even though I want to exist, I would like to exist in a space that was maybe beyond physical limitations, or a space unseen. I feel the need to hide but simultaneously be seen. When I show parts of myself in my portraits, I feel vulnerable. But this vulnerability drives me to make my self-portraits because it allows me to see myself in new ways that I would never have seen or conceived of. I continue to explore my body within the portraits, fitting into the spaces I go into, or even making myself abstract.“
Henry MacDiarmid Attempts in Transcendence: Levitation #2 (Part #2 Motion), 2016 Video 03:00min. Presented on a 9” TV Screen “Attempts in Transcendence is a project that demonstrates a practice in failure set by a literal approach to levitation. This video displays my exercise in using my body as the tool to reach transcendence through levitation while cut in between spectator reactions to David Blaine’s street levitation act. I am pursuing the idea of escalating the self through transcendence but create constructs that ultimately prepare me for failure.”
Marie Dyer Nobody Knows Anyone, 2016 Digital Pigment Print 17” x 22” “Nobody Knows Anyone was created in response to society’s continuous attempts to remove women’s agency, choice, and independence. This piece explores failed attempts to find creative and emotional identity and voice as an individual in a society where the perceived value of women is as objects. In this work, the self struggles to manifest, to speak, to connect, and to create in an indifferent world.”
Kim Fields Untitled, 2017 Watercolor on Paper 11.5” x 9” “My existence is a summary of all my ordinary, complicated, and extraordinary experiences. My life experiences have come and gone, leaving only memories and emotions imprinted inside me. My layers of self are represented through the overlapping colorful shapes that were once realistic forms viewed through a mirror. Small red circles scattered throughout the painting show moments of completion. This self-portrait is a painting of my complexity.”
Liz Penniman Dig, 2015 oil on canvas 36” x 24” “In this painting, I am an actor who plays the seeker. I’ve forgotten that I have a gender but I’m sexual. I’m out here on my own land. When I was painting this picture of a girl digging I made it with the senibility of making an effort, as my contimuum and my reason. It’s not as hard as it looks. It’s just that my hand, when I’m painting, keeps making the art look like that, like there’s some great bit emotional tide moving through the picture. But it’s just me digging. The digger is sexy, and I have identified with being sexy, but not with being a girl. The ego imagines I’m a seeker, but the identity is with the performer.”
—Mollie
Williams
Andrew Fillmore Here’s a Face for When, 2016 mixed media approx. 10.5” x 10” each “Moment to moment, our faces are the ever changing vehicle for a host of feelings that are sometimes never given voice. Some feelings are too complex to accurately depict with language. And on the other side, some are too simple to feel a need to describe. And aside from that, I sometimes find it difficult to even place what I am feeling. So, here I present four masks to use in four occasions, when perhaps, I am not ready to tell you about my experience. They are as follows (in order from left to right): a face for Nov. 9, 2016, a face for the first time you use a bidet, a face for when you are falling asleep in class, and a face for the whole way down the water slide. In using these masks, I can respond to the world more quickly and seamlessly than my actual face may be able to keep up with. And, in doing so, I am saving myself not only time and energy, but I am giving myself space to really discern the ways that I feel, while sparing myself the need to tell anyone about it before I am ready.”
Hannah Hasbrouck Tattered Beauty, 2016 Photography 18” x 27” “The constant clicking in my feet and ankles reminds me of the endless miles I have run. The random catching in my hip tells me that I have pushed myself. The scars and pain in my knee solidifies that I actually left everything on the field. Every blister, every turf burn, every scar, is a reminder to myself, as an athlete, that I am doing something that I love, and that I am willing to give parts of myself to my sport. As an athlete, I will push myself whether I am fully healthy or whole. Not being able to imagine myself without my sport makes it all worth it. These images show scars that I have acquired over the years. They translate dedication and setbacks, such as everyday life does to the human character. Scars are a sign of experienced pain, in which beauty emerges through the tattered body. My body and who I am is defined through sacrifice, strengths and weaknesses, and the desire to play.”
Homesick
by Vandana Ravikumar
7:00. The red numbers glare at me from the other side of the room. It’s time to get going, they say, and I watch intently, hoping, somehow, that the characters don’t change. Seconds pass, I’m not sure how many, and I begin to wonder if the clock really is broken until suddenly a 0 becomes a 1 and I know it’s time for me to get out of bed. My body is fighting me and I wonder if it’s because i’m sick or because i’m scared. Scared of what, exactly, I’m not sure; all I know now is that the stinging in my throat isn’t helping. I shut my eyes again, but wakefulness won’t leave me now, and I force them back open, trying to settle into the day. It isn’t easy; I’m wrapped in unfamiliar sheets, tucked into a bed that isn’t my own, staring at walls I didn’t paint and observing how the greenish color has faded. It’s prettier this way, I think, but it’s not supposed to be. This is home. I am home. I tell myself this over and over, I can’t tell if it’s sticking or not, but the sheets are beginning to stick to me, and I know I’ve lost the battle. As I tug them off I try to make myself anticipate the day; it’s not really working, but it’s all I can do. Today, we will learn. This is what Amma, my mother, tells me as she brings the tin cup to my lips. “I wish we had these at home,” I tell her, and she smirks. “our glasses are better,” she says, “they’re prettier and cleaner and they don’t make the water taste like metal.” “And speaking of the water,” Amma says, “I’m sure that’s what made you sick.” I don’t engage, but she continues, “It’s always the water, there’s always something here to make you ill.” She doesn’t hate it here, not yet, but I know she remembers why she left to begin with, she always will. I know that I can never understand, I was never given the means to; I wonder if I would had we stayed. Appa, my father, looks at me apologetically. “You can stay here if you want,” he says as I gaze at him pitifully. “You’ll be here with Ammamma,” my grandmother, “she can keep an eye on you until you feel better.” I think about it, I don’t want to go anywhere, I wish I were back in my bed, mine, and not this one thousands of miles away from it, but iIhave to make do with what I have. “I’ll go with you,” I grudgingly decide, only because I worry that Ammamma and I won’t have enough to talk about for the next three days, and that it’ll make her sad, I don’t want to be alone with her long enough for her to see how little she knows about me.
Amma says that good Indian girls wear dresses, only dresses, and so I find myself in a white rhinestoned frock from our local department store. Good Indian girls wear dresses, I know, but I don’t feel like I fit in, and I wonder if this was just my mother’s ploy to get me to ditch my grass-stained jeans for a while. I can’t do anything about it now, I think as I smooth my skirt over my knees. I’m wearing sandals, not my favorite black ones with silver buckles, those are at home, instead I have beaded camel leather ones. they’re beautiful, I think. I wiggle my toes and try not to ruminate on how sore my feet are from wearing them. “She’s 9, annan,” [brother], Appa says to our cab driver, who gives a solemn nod as we cruise through the busy streets. “Almost a full decade,” the driver remarks, Appa agrees. “yes, they grow up fast,” i keep my eyes from rolling, Appa looks out the window, it’s been too long, it hasn’t been long enough, I know he feels both ways, I can’t tell which one he feels more. Things never stop changing. We arrive at our destination, my dress feels sticky, I want to go back to bed, it’s too late to change my mind. We board the plane, it’s surprisingly welcoming, I immediately feel self-conscious, I hope no one catches anything from me. I settle into my seat and as we take off i’m suddenly nowhere; neither here nor there, only moving, going, not being. somehow it’s comforting and i find myself drifting off. When I wake up a stewardess offers me more fruit and water, she asks if I’m okay, she’s surprised I’m so quiet for a kid. “I get that a lot,” I say, and as I do my throat continues to burn, she offers me more pineapple, I know the acid will sting, but she is so kind and Amma says the pineapple is sweeter here. [to be continued]
Omar Castaneda Tlacatl, 2016 Photography 15” x 19” “We are but a collection of truths passed down from elder to youth. I am not from here nor am I from there. How can I dance in the vivid color of day when we are blind of the dark truths of yesterday? Tlacatl, translating to ‘Man’ in the tongue of my ancestors, highlights the vivid colors of the Aztec performer while embracing depressed truths of my people. Is it possible to correct the wrongs of colonialism ?”
Marjorie Williams Ghosting, 2016 Photography 11” x 14” “I used this form of self portrait to represent the idea of ghosts of past selves, using the background of an abandoned building (another form of a ghost of something gone) to build on that narrative. Everyone is constantly changing, and this piece uses a dark mood through lighting and composition to show melancholy that one can feel when reminiscing about their past selves.”
Golden Nonsense No. 1
by Michelle Lassaline photograph by Denali Lowder
I have my grandma’s knocky knees, my sister’s laugh, my uncle’s sneeze. I have my brother’s sandy hair, although his height I do not share. My father gave me brains and wit, but I still feel like a misfit. My hands are wrinkled like my mom’s. Just like hers, they’re soft and strong. But most of me is not on file. It comes from somewhere far and wild. I don’t know how I came to be an odd shaped leaf on the family tree. I’m happiest in fields of flowers. I can hike uphill for hours. Golden nonsense fills my head with with silly serious thoughts of thread. I dream of woolen fabric coats. I wonder while I eat my oats, ‘How did I come to be this way?’ and then I think of my first day. Upon my birth the doctor wrote: This child is mostly mountain goat.
This zine was created in conjunction with Inward, a group exhibition exploring identity and nontraditional modes of self-portraiture on view in the Holland Project Gallery from December 13-30, 2016. Both the zine and exhibition were curated by Denali Lowder, Bridget Conway, Hanna Kaplan and Alisha Funkhouser.