AYLY frustrated young creatives
3 quid zine no.3
revolt
-let’s revoltAre You Lost Yet started as an angsty bedroom project back in 2014 and since then, our community of creatives has grown and spread. 2016 was a year where deep divisions in the world once again came to the surface and REVOLT is just part of our reaction to the mess. This is our third printed zine, designed by our third graphic designer - our amazing new arts editor Zoe - so it has a completely unique feel to our other issues. The AYLY team is constantly in flux moving in and out of the project as we all change jobs, graduate, move away from home... our core squad is currently spread across Cardiff, London, Oxford and Cambridge. This year has seen us branch out with regular 'LOST' mixes by young DJs on our soundcloud and host parties, open mics, poetry and storytelling nights across the UK. We've met more and more lovely, creative young people who have inspired us along the way – shout out if you were you one of them! We accept submissions all year round for our blog: get in touch to get to get involved.
tom bevan, editor-in-chief
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get @ us
@areyoulostyetzine areyoulostyet.com facebook.com/areyoulostyet soundcloud.com/aylyzine
contributors a.n a.h a.a b.c c.i d.h e.b h.r g.o j.d K.H l.w l.b m.h n.j r. r.r s.m t.p t.m z.
alexander norton amy hughes aisyah & aziya bess chan cat ingham devin hentz ella baron hear.rigo glyn owen jacek davis kama hughes lily waite lydia bolton manon houston natalie jennifer rohmarra rosie rosenberg sophie moore thomas price tory mabey zateesha
editors zoe yibowei ginny darke jack cooper
tudor etchells
renn hubbuck-melly
laura caccia
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CALIBRATE FANTASY
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Technology is a huge part in this series - by using Photoshop and lines that reflect electric circuits, I’ve been able to play around with the bond between technology and nature.
PHOTOS: J.D MODEL: D.H 6
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H.R
If you can imagine, I'm disgusted with the results of the recent election. I believe that artists, creatives and activists should revolt through organized protesting and group fundraising for political change (ex: sending donations to Sacred Stone Camp) I've created a banner and t-shirts saying "fuck trump" in a material based protest to express solidarity. I am hoping to increase production of fuck trump t-shirts so that the proceeds can be donated to Sacred Stone Camp along with other organizations in America that need the funding. I hope that the photos I've taken of my work stand against the violent white supremacist, misogynist, homophobic behavior that is becoming more visible in America as an act of solidarity with my fellow Americans who are scared for the upcoming presidency. - C.I
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Re: REVOLT I was down in a place where they quote with these << >> instead of these “ ”. So the newspapers end up looking like old code written for a paper reading generation. I scribbled thoughts onto my own papers that survived a monsoon and were creased safely in the bottom of a backpack for months: To be <<anti>> (anything) means to contain all the necessary prerequisites of the thing you’re against. For every positive claim there is you, hidden in negation. For every point, mirrored in a dualistic waltz: you. This is academic philosophy. Which is just a convoluted way of saying: don’t speak in binary when it comes to <<revolt>>. There is so much more than this regime of pro/con, for/anti, build/destroy. Black/white. For every highway there is a whale that doesn’t fucking care. For every abstract and actual system of oppression there is someone to tango with, at night, where only neon lights shine in an old concrete basketball court in the heart of a city only locals know the real name of. Which is an ugly way of referencing a moment I’ve had. And within that moment there was revolt. But no one was doing it just to—<<just to>> report back later to others that you too had lived. There was living. There were 3 lights broken by poor circuitry. There was no sense of ignorance to the laws passed to limit foodstuffs and broaden surveillance, but the way people were living didn’t match up to code and conduct, and folks danced. And there was living; the kind that is so vivid that single sentences fail to grasp. Policy was voided by stark and mountainous <<living>>. Which, to correct myself, is a resistance to vivisection. There was no Tango that night that was <<Tango only>>. There was falling, shouting, and such movement of bodies, weights and organs to sonic sorts of percussion that someone who studied in Western schools, who looked for a moment from afar, using book chapters to understand, could call it “Tango”. But there was no Tango like this tango because it was never written down. Which is a <<revolt>>. Not against, not anti, not a headshake in a LED-energy-efficient university hallway. It wasn’t anti-lonely, but it sure wasn’t lonely. It was like the air, which was masked in cheap combustion and fried meat, contained a separate sense of being. To breathe in that space meant you could be there. Even to not-breathe, to hold air in, was to dance in a way. Then turn blue. Then laugh and cry. Then someone breaks out the whiskey and things take on that delirious hue where metaphor feels all-too-real. Everyone’s drunk. Which is not really <<Revolt>>. At that point you are within Joy and drinking [glass, glass, glass] and your line of thinking fades. And one final thought surfaces before vague fluidness consumes you: I want this to be forever; I want to be able to share this sort of Joy, dance drink food bad lighting that feels so not bad and right even when the moves I make are more sludge than smooth. And I would fight for this. What ever this happened to be.
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- K.H
the thing I hate the most is when you say that youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not lovable you are love is there love will find you or you will find love but believe me it will come and when it does you will be amazed you ever spoke those words for it will fill you with every word you say you can be will be are loved
- L.W 10
bess bess bess
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chan chan chan
these photographs were taken throughout the summer of 2016 in Yuen Long, a relatively untouched and rural part of Hong Kong, away from the better known urban central districts that Hong Kong is famous for. My photographs are of fleeting moments and accidental encounters; the grotty, subtle and quiet things in my immediate surroundings that are often overlooked: passers-by crossing the road, weathered property advertisements, a light streak from passing street lamps. frame and capture these subject matters on the go, the way they are - in a split second, a quick glance just before they’re gone. The photographs therefore turn out foggy and sometimes almost abstract, if not for a face or words to remind the viewer of the physical reality behind them. Acclaimed street photographer, Daido Moriyama, once said that clarity isn’t what photography is about. To me, in capturing these quiet shadowy subjects, I feel that they in turn become “portraitures” of my own personal experiences. being born in Singapore, brought up in Hong Kong, and studying in the United Kingdom ever since I was 15, I am interested in the ephemerality of transnational living. Home as a concept is uncertain for me. Always on the go, my life is stretched thinly across these three places. The blurry, out of focus nature of these photographs reflect my life, expressing feelings of temporality, displacement and longing.
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Vanity, 1485 Or, Love in Revolt He dressed you in
nothing but the summ er’s heat; the ember -glow of brown hills and grass and meadowsweet, and the wilful pleasure of his gaze: a crackle on the drums a touch, not quite love, that brushes down the miracle curving of your thighs; explores in oils the geographies of you, gilded, hand on hip, upright: standing female, nude. From that place of his eye: you turn and turn the blue globe and agent both, and he glories in the crafting of you, until, in the late season of your growth, painter beholds woman, at last: poised in a golden hour, idol of a power that is too much not to fear – this body summoned to love for the sake of summoning; for the sake of loving and of seeing – he condemns you for the love that is you: He paints a mirror in your hand and calls you Vanity. Up, Vanity: revolt against the revulsion that speaks its name at the collision of your reflection and your self; against the notion that your beauty – more than sex, the poetry spoken by the soft protrusions of your belly, your thighs, your flesh – is anything but yours. Meet your own gaze and speak, instead, the revolution of your own becoming: what is vanity but love in revolt? And is anything so beautiful as that? Revolt, Vanity, against the revulsion that unmakes you in its own image.
- A.H
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unholy water ~ h2oh my god m.h
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G.O. //Barricades and Christmas Cards/ //Notre Dames les Landes/ //French citizens against the contruction of another airport in the Nantes region/
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The fact that ZAD is an occupation of a mass of land with such commercial and political significance (constructing an airport) does mean that there is a constant, significant threat of police eviction. It seems that eviction is used by politicians to demonstrate political strength, but it seems that the threats are often viewed as empty by the ZAD occupants. However, you may find that most people who are aware of ZAD are under the impression that it is in a constant state of war. There is plenty of physical evidence of how they are prepared for evictions, such as with construction of barricades, watchtowers and checkpoints. The ZAD occupants also keep prepared tactically and mobilise regularly at protests. All of which are an indication of confrontation, and therefore at least the possibility of violence. But I cannot speak from first-hand experience of seeing this happen and would not wish to speak on behalf of ZAD occupants. The latest, most extreme example of clashes with the police, to my knowledge, occurred in 2012. This was documented in the book 'ZAD Partout - Zone A DĂŠfendre Ă Notre-Dame-des-Landes Textes et Images' (L'Insomniaque). The book does seem to demonstrate quite clearly a high level of violence, e.g riot police, tear gas and pepper-spray. I am also aware that there have been many clashes in the city of Nantes and surrounding areas; these confrontations seem to occur fairy regularly and I have seen footage of crowd control equipment such as water cannons being deployed against protesters. But the hardened ZAD activists give as good as they get.
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welcome to europe
e.b spent time in in a refugee squat in ahtens documenting the day to day lives of the people living there
“cartoons can work where photos can’t: depicting sensitive situations in a way that anonymizes the individuals without anesthetizing their story.”
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The guy in the newsagent across from the School Squat kindly gave me 100 lollipops for the 200 kids there. It was chaos; little hands clawing at my bag and clothes and at each other. For me this was the most visceral encounter with the scale of the crisis but I constantly felt overwhelmed and frequently defeated. It often seemed that helping one person only attracted more people wanting help.
After Alan Alan Kurdi was an individual who became a global icon; alone, facedown and faceless, he could have been our son. But washed-up refugees was last summerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story. Here, the little bodies beyond Alanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s spotlight are living, sleeping refugees I sketched this summer. These are the children that survived the sea to settle less photogenically on the streets and in the squats. Countless others died. If they register at all, it is as a statistic not as a myriad of unique tragedies.
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full set of images @ areyoulostyet.com/blog
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Alexander Norton: Company // Understanding
I want to understand emotion 673 days ago 20/10/2012. 21
I will never understand emotion 588 days ago 13/1/13.
I am an artist I think I work with feeling, since studying my ideas have began to drift between lines of reality and fiction.
When you like someone, you walk up a massive hill with them. When you like someone, you walk up a massive hill with them. My grandma used to say when one door closes, another door opens but I realise I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t really want to open another door yet. I am content in the Corridor 22
A very modern Revolution
I Revolution! Howled Carlo Marx, As men in offices, Waited for the revolt to start.
But how can I know when to revolt, When a Classic costs ten pounds?
I brought a Molotov cocktail, With my AMEX card, I expensed it to the company, To show how serious we are.
At least give me a sticker, And tell me that “it’s now!”, Or else brandish me a trot, And let me give you hell.
So share this with your friends man, If you really understand, We’re revolting on the inside, About to take our stand.
There was a comment on the wall, About some Chinese town, It was meant to be a utopia, Except for this guy called Mao.
So take your hair and pointy ears, And be sure to bring your card, March in spandex on the commute, For the revolt to start.
How’s about we find this wall, And we tear it down? Or else we hide behind it, And dress like killer clowns?
- T. P. 23
II
Or some sort of Wikihow.
t.m.
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the Girl who wore tracksuits to prom
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Photographer: Hair: R. Makeup: Models: Designer:
N.J. & Z. S.M. A.A. L.B.
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â&#x20AC;&#x153;I got this new tracksuit i
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raquel shoot
be flexin in”
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