Nicolas Hyacinthe’s “Hard Edges & Soft Embraces”
Nicolas Hyacinthe is of two cultures, countries, and languages. Every day he straddles the vast chasm within these identities. His story isn’t unique of the Haitian diaspora, but his perspective is. Photography and film are bridges that allow him to navigate from his world to ours. Hard Edges & Soft Embraces is a multi-media meditation on returning home to Haiti… Read more →
Snapshots of the Haus of Glitter’s Practices, Performance, & Petition
We often forget the vitality of breath, of true togetherness, and conscious reflection, which is why The Haus of Glitter Dance Company’s “Decolonizing Creative Practice: Defensiveness Retreat” on March 18th, 2023 and March 25th, 2023 (in cooperation with The School of Embodied Praxis) came as a divine blessing. The Haus of Glitter Dance Company (based in Providence, RI) works, through… Read more →
when the pilot lies
The whale jaw was a conundrumafter a while we couldn’t sleepbeyond the growth of kelp elmthose days we wore green, killedtime by the front windows, lungsweren’t visible yet, the flesh stillconnected to the body, grapefruiteyes missing, nights you went withyour raw thigh wound bandagedtight in the forehead from a lanternof a headache, you bit your lipsand cursed the town for… Read more →
I’m A Pro
On the train ride home, I fall asleep and dream of eagles taking over the farm where I grew up, letting the cows loose and they roam. My family evacuates our home, and then we’re riding past a brushfire in a convertible bus until there is a roadblock. Peach trees talk to me, saying, Find your way. Bristlecone trees wave,… Read more →
A Mother’s Plea
Please don’t photograph. The cold feetof my baby withered blue petals. I will rub her feet and tickle her ghungroo*—she may open her eyes. I will part her mouth, feed her halwa—she may ask for more. No, I will let her sleep so vultures won’t follow her to heaven.Please don’t photograph; flashes will wake her. Sleep, my baby, sleep. *a… Read more →
New Jersey Tea
In the field guide, the butterflies are organized by shape just as in field guides of flowers and trees. Just as all things in nature are known by their cups, their serrated edges, their tents, their folds and lengths. I flip through white silhouettes on black glossy pages. There’s an entire section of skippers and another of fritillaries. I find… Read more →
The Smell of Survival
I now welcome gaslighting Like maple stencils on patio furniture The furniture I will fight rich kids for with an invisible bark Punch vulgar blood back into my throat with panic attack pauses Down cocktails worth more than my father’s hourly wage Wipe the guilt off my face with the hubris of a placating eucalyptus oil soaked towel smelling of… Read more →
Swell
There’s a cup of tea growing cold on the table between the two of them, and a puzzle. It’s 5:30 in the morning and the fog outside is growing, sinking, swelling. Inside, the walls of the cabin feel damp. The wood swells, walls creaking. Anne pulls the blanket closer, finds another piece, places it. Sips her tea. She looks at… Read more →
GOD
1. The only thing I heard this morning was the low murmuring of CNN France & the unmistakable sound of walls falling Woman: Am I making all of this clear enough for you? Man: No. Not exactly 2. On this floor there are not horses, but at least ten biological fathers. It’s only a matter of time before one of… Read more →