This is not the sun

Mariam Barghouti: Israel is using the American made (NY manufactured) bomb known as the “GBU-28”

This is a 4,000-pound (1814.3 kg) laser-guided “bunker busting” bomb. It is used by the US (was used in Iraq) and Israel

It is almost double the size of what Israel used in the beginning of the aggression the “BLU-109” – US bombs which weigh 1,927 lb (874 kg)

After 9 months of starvation and near complete destruction of Gaza, of killing some 186,000 Palestinians (according to new figures published by the Lancet) tonight Israel is dropping even HEAVIER and more destructive bombs

Do you register? Do you register the sick role the US is playing in perpetuating this genocide, while passing bills denying the American people transparency on how many are being killed with their tax dollars and on their behalf?

Photo from Nour Naim: This is not the sun, it’s a bomb being dropped on families in Gaza right now

More Whitney Biennial

3 more artists from the Whitney Biennial that I loved. The last artist in particular has truly moved me to think about our current apocalyptic times in a different way by subverting colonial language and the limited, dismal visions it embodies.

Kiyan Williams, born 1991 in Newark, NJ: In Williams’s outdoor sculpture Ruins of Empire /I or The Earth Swallows the Master’s House, the north facade of the White House, which is composed of earth, leans on one side and sinks into the floor… The labor history embedded in the dirt points to a fragility in our political foundations, while the earth’s erosion embodies a critique of institutionality at a moment when institutions are toppling.

Rose B. Simpson, born 1983, Santa Fe, NM: In Rose B. Simpson’s Daughters: Reverence, four figures gaze at one another, creating a kind of force field of protection and solidarity that stands in contrast to an unstable world. “My lifework,” Simpson has explained, “is a seeking out of tools to use to heal the damages I have experienced as a human being of our postmodern and postcolonial era-objectification, stereotyping, and the disempowering detachment of our creative selves through the ease of modern technology.”

Demian Diné Yazhi’, born 1983 in Gallup, NM, we must stop imagining apocalypse/genocide + we must imagine liberation, 2024: As a poet and activist, Dine Yazhi’ has thought about how to use a colonizer’s language against colonialism, noting that they “want to see more poetry at protests.” Written in red neon, the text in this work emerges from the artist’s reflections on Indigenous resistance movements. Diné Yazhi calls on people working toward liberation to avoid predicting futures rooted in a Euro-Western “romanticization and addiction with apocalypse,” speculating that accepting catastrophe as a given leads to “writing our own demise or prisons.” Instead, they advocate for writing stories of liberation, finding alternate ways to work through oppressive moments as a collective.

Whitney Biennial 2024

So I went to the Whitney Biennial in NY and what I liked most was the work of Indigenous/ Asian/ South American artists. Here are some examples

-Cannupa Hanska Luger born 1979, Standing Rock, ND: “This installation is not inverted… our current world is upside down.” For the artist, upending our grounding in time and space makes way for imagined futures free of colonialism and capitalism, where broader Indigenous knowledge can thrive.

-Takako Yamaguchi, born 1952 in Okayama, Japan: Her recent seascapes use meticulously rendered zigzags, tubes, and lines to suggest weather and other natural elements. They reflect Yamaguchi’s experimentation with what she calls “abstraction in reverse,” or taking recognizable forms, like clouds or waves, and abstracting them to the point of pattern.

-Clarissa Tossin, born 1973 in Porto Alegre, Brazil: Clarissa Tossin’s film appears alongside 3D-printed replicas of pre-Columbian Maya wind instruments. Tossin had the replicas made so that they could be played in the film, which traces the movement of Maya people and culture across multiple spaces and temporalities, real and imagined, cosmological and colonized. The fact that the ancient instruments are not available for use-isolated from their original context and kept behind glass in museum collections-can be seen as a distillation of the themes of dislocation and tradition that Tossin works to reconcile in the film. Featuring the Kiche ‘Kaqchiquel poet Rosa Chávez and the Ixil Maya artist Tohil Fidel Brito Bernal, the film looks at ways in which contemporary Maya culture is activated by means of both reclamation and re-creation.

More in next post :))

meetings with roc friends

ran into missy by chance this morning as she was picking up coffees for herself and her husband at the village bakery. another serendipitous meeting in roc, and then a vibrant discussion with my fam (rajesh and muna) about activism and palestine. got interrupted by a white lady sitting nearby who tried to police our convo and left in a huff. white fragility and tears are the flip side of white privilege, trust me. should write more about this.

in new york city

a recap of moments: walk by battery park at night with my daughter and looking at nyc thru her eyes, listening to françoise hardy again and feeling this profound emotional tug, remembering donald sutherland in ‘ordinary people’ and the extraordinary brilliance with which he talked about sculpture in one of his interviews, attending a gaza fundraiser organized by global feminists for palestine at jaishri’s studio in brooklyn (yes, that’s suheir hammad in the black veil) and being in community with other artists and writers, and finally dinner at tacombi’s with the lovely zeenat – it means everything to me to spend time with my friends’ kids and know that they are thriving.

talk & screening at new orleans museum of art

last post about kolaj fest new orleans: wanted to say something about my presentation and the screening of ‘return to sender: women of color in colonial postcards & the politics of representation.’

i started with a 20 min talk in which i expanded on some of the themes that are discussed in the film: the male gaze, the colonial lens, orientalism and the work of edward said, epistemicide and the work of ramon grosfoguel, photography as a tool of colonial surveys and expansion, white feminism, and of course palestine. i wasn’t sure of the reaction as my work digs deep into uncomfortable histories and racist systems, but i couldn’t have hoped for a better response. that many of the people in the audience were artists and scholars helped spark a vibrant discussion, but what meant most to me was what i heard from women, many of them women of color. there were a lot of tears and emotion, hugs and sharing. this is what art is for me: a way to interface and create community. thank u once again to the kolaj institute and all the wonderful people who attended ??

photographs by @eisenbergpitman

The Warp & Weft Palestine

Here is a recap of a project I’ve been working on since December last year.

The Warp & Weft audio archive came together in 2020 as a way to connect people from across the world during a global pandemic that caused untold loss and grief.

It is an ongoing project that allows diverse people (separated by arbitrary political borders) to share their stories and feel a sense of collective power.

In December 2023 we launched the next phase of this project. In the midst of the gruesome genocide in Gaza, people from around the world are welcome to join us in reading, holding up, and sharing the voices and stories of Palestinian writers and poets.

This is an open archive, so contact us if you would like to contribute a reading and pls follow us on Instagram: @WarpAndWeftArchive

Rajesh Barnabas wrote a piece about this project for Boomtown Press back in January:

‘Sometimes it seems trivial to be reciting poetry at a time of genocide. It can feel like a stunning privilege. But it’s also an act of resistance that goes hand in hand with protests and activist actions. As the Palestinian poet George Abraham has said: “Poetry can’t stop a bullet. Poetry won’t free a prisoner. And that’s why we need to do the political organizing work as well. But if we can’t imagine a free liberated world in language, how can we build one?”’

Read full article here.

last day at kolaj fest

friday june 14th in new orleans: started the day with a big breakfast at who dat cafe – had many brunches there back in feb. best biscuits and homemade jellies. arrived at cafe istanbul a bit late – apparently there is another ‘istanbul cafe’ on royal st and that’s the address i gave uber by mistake. so went on a longish car ride just to loop back to where i started. attended ‘collage & poetry’ followed by ‘time & fragmentation: collage theories.’ clive knights’ presentation intrigued me as i’ve been thinking about fragmentation in the context of war and its impact on the social/ political/ individual body. met the wonderful jenny veninga, a fellow activist and scholar, who shared other brilliant ideas with me. attended ‘getting organized: collage projects’ and then after a quick lunch at st. roch market, was inspired by ‘take me to the water: a baptism in collage,’ a workshop with the amazing lavonna varnado-brown, who talked about claudia rankine’s book ‘citizen’ and the idea of the body having memory – a major inspiration for my work. watch ‘the body has memory’ a video poem i created in 2022 and for which i won best in show at a juried exhibition organized by the huntington arts council in ny. link in comments ?

ended the day with collage & kiki, at the john thompson legacy center, hosted by lavonna varnado brown and jennella young. created collages with other artists and spent a lovely evening. so thankful to kolaj institute for creating this wonderful space at the intersection of art, activism, and academic research. hope to make this an annual ritual inshallah.

presentation and screening at noma

my day today, june 13th, as a series of non-linear moments: lunch at blue oak BBQ with artists phil and debi, a sketch of yours truly by the wonderful @stitchpixie who drew me as i spoke, the screening of ‘return to sender’ + my talk which introduced some of its themes + a brilliant and moving community discussion at the new orleans museum of art, the spectacular madera during a symposium on saving the planet, collage on screen at istanbul cafe, and hanging out with artists julie, diane and robin afterwards. wanted to listen to some jazz but decided to retire for the night. maybe tomorrow.

kolaj panel discussion at noma

attended a panel discussion with artists ryann sterling, ashley teamer, and soraya jean louis moderated by artist and scholar kristina kay robinson. i was nodding vigorously the entire time. here are some things i loved. from soraya jean louis, the idea that POCs are an abstraction – something that cannot be fully encapsulated by the white gaze – but also something which is labeled in v concrete ways. she talked about how cutting/ deconstructing anatomy is not a european practice (picasso learned from egyptian paintings and stylized african representations of the human figure). it is a way for fragmented people to reconstitute/ reassemble themselves. ashley teamer explained how time is not linear in collage, but localized, a collection of moments. it can be stretched or elongated. also compared collage to DJ-ing. collage is broken because that’s the art form, just like scratching records (a blasphemy) is what DJs do because that is their art. finally, i learned about mother catherine seals and the temple of the innocent blood, as well as poverty point (centuries ago, when stonehenge was built and queen nefertiti ruled egypt, indigenous people were building earthen monuments in north louisiana). incredible.

Return to Sender screening at New Orleans Museum of Art

I will be screening ‘Return to Sender: Women of Color in Colonial Postcards & the Politics of Representation’ and giving a talk at the New Orleans Museum of Art on Thursday, June 13th, 3:15-4:15 pm, as part of Kolaj Fest organized by the Kolaj Institute. New Orleans friends, pls join the discussion and come and say hello.

More details here.

stop killing children

i want to scream. what is this effing world where burning and decapitating children, refugees living in tents, is ok? where the atlantic can publish a piece about ‘legally killed children’? where language has become so corrupted, so debased, that it is practically meaningless? where old white men can try weapons of mass destruction on the bodies of brown and black people and make billions while families burn? yet life goes on. we meet our friends, we hug our children. for hours, we forget the images we see on our phones. it shouldn’t be so. the world should be on fire. stop the annihilation of palestine. stop the massacres. stop the genocide. as ali abunimah said: ‘that the genocidal enemy can continue these atrocities hour after hour, day after day, is an indictment of the whole world. “israel” needs to be sealed off from humanity, sanctioned and blockaded to oblivion until it stops.’