A second issue of the Women Artists is due out this year and we’re looking for contributors. If you’re unfamiliar with the previous issue, we interviewed a handful of women artists about their work and lives. We’d like to continue that tradition in our second issue. If you’re a writer / interviewer / or just enthusiastic about women and their art and might like to be a part of the second issue, send us a message! Please be sure include an interview proposal. No deadline yet on when to get in touch but we’ll keep you updated.
"Let’s face it. We’re undone by each other. And if we’re not, we’re missing something. If this seems so clearly the case with grief, it is only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact." -Judith Butler
I have notebooks of desire sealed up in cardboard boxes instead of under my pillows like children’s stories. I have pieces of paper torn between magazines and books and beds across countries. I take screen shots of your messages in case I lose them. Who are you anyway? I make up a man from many men, because there’s no man for me. Acupuncture has inadvertently made me stop smoking. The thought images compound when I try to ‘clear’ my mind, laying on my back unable to move as the needles will tug at my wrist muscles with a sensation that my hands could rip off my arms at any moment. So I avoid that. That used to be smoking. Sitting smoking scribing. But the notebooks are sealed up now, the Mexican cigarette boxes fallen behind my clothes, and there’s nothing to write about.
So…. why is this not my life, world? I think I’m done forcing myself to be behind the camera or behind the camera of my own image. I don’t want my teenage modelling career type in-front-of-camera, but like, I have a lover/partner/husband/father of our children that wants me part of his gaze no matter what.
tbt, 2007 post-Bukem weekend magda
consumption aesthetics, 2014.
Selfies with, NYC, 2013
Feminist selfie ontology.