art

the rumpus: spines of the finwomen

Yes, that’s right! Another set of illustrations for The Rumpus–this time, to accompany Lidia Yuknavitch’s incredible Spines of the Finwomen. This piece was the final in the #monsters2019, which was curated by curator extraordinaire Marissa Korbel, and an absolute joy to read and participate in. Go! Read!

I think about form and malformation all the time. You have no idea. Obsessively. You might say I’m a malformation junkie. Especially on the page, especially in language or art, but also the form of the human body or the bodies of animals or trees or bodies of water. Form is everything to me. The forms that interest me the least—the forms that I find close to useless, the forms that make me want to shoot myself a little bit are the mainstream, perfectly shaped, well-received, and popularized traditional forms that the majority of people find pleasing and whole and and beautiful. I am passionately obsessed with and devoted to malformation in art and literature and people. Not just structurally, but also in content. I love the monster. The creature. More than I ever love the hero, by about a gazillion. Heroes bore the fuck out of me unless there is something seriously, beautifully, and irreconcilably wrong with them. I know what you are thinking. Antihero. Not enough for me. Give me the squirming tentacled blob or grotesque medusa or oozing alien. Now I’m trying to think of a sentence that will accurately convey to you the extent of my devotion to the differently formed in art, in language, in people. A sentence something like this: “I’d rather lick pus ooze than embrace the so-called well-formed hero. The beautiful heroine. The beautiful object of any sort.”

-Lidia Yuknavitch
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the rumpus illustrations: everything tastes better in winter

When I stopped believing in the deer-legged gods and they died, or got adopted by another girl, or turned into streamers of light in the aurora borealis, I needed something else to believe in. I was so in love with Iceland and Eiður that when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone else entirely: I wasn’t the girl the goddess saved—I was the goddess who saved the girl.

-Lucia Iglesias

This piece by Lucia Iglesias, published over at The Rumpus, is a must-read (plus, you can check out the three illustrations I created to accompany it!).

art

the rumpus: voices on addiction

And for a month all goes smoothly; she goes to meetings, sometimes three in a day. She seems well, better than well. She helps in the house; she cooks the best beef stew you’ve ever eaten; you and she laugh your asses off together. And then one day she drinks, and the anger comes and the screaming starts and doesn’t let up for two days. The third morning she disappears before anyone is up; her suitcase is gone, she is gone, and you have no idea where she is or how she got there. She does not answer her phone. Days go by. No word at all. Where is she? The house is quiet now, sane, and you would feel relief if you weren’t frantic with worry. You don’t know if she’s eating, where she is getting food. You don’t know where her money comes from.

-Abigail Thomas

I illustrated three companion pieces to this short, powerful flash essay on loving someone with substance use disorder, by Abigail Thomas. Go look and read.

announcements · art · featured work

the rumpus illustrations: habitat

I recently started illustrating for one of my favorite lit mags of all time, The Rumpus. These couple of pieces went up in June, and are companions to Christy Stillwell’s Habitat, a piece of original fiction that discusses abortion and the power of choice. It’s wonderfully written and I was honored to illustrate it!

Continue reading “the rumpus illustrations: habitat”
art · fused creative

Protecting Our Artists at Fused Creative

This week, I finished something that I’ve been talking about for months: a formal introduction packet for all incoming Fused Creative artists and volunteers, which includes our community guidelines and harassment policy.

We are working our assess off to be truly inclusive, and to elevate the voices and perspectives of local artists. We are creating a community, which means having clear guidelines and an unequivocal stance on how we expect people who engage within that community to behave.

In particular, we outlined these policies formally to make it clear:

We will not tolerate discrimination of any kind–no transphobia, no racism, no misogyny. No harassment. Period. There is no neutral here.

The organization is so young, and our small staff works entirely on a volunteer basis. I know from my experience working with a variety of small to mid sized companies that it’s easy for stuff like this to get overlooked in the inception of an organization; it’s often not deeply considered until there is an official Problem. Even then, you see organizations of all kind scramble once a problem arises, and by then, folks have already been hurt and/or alienated.

We know that we can’t afford to wait that long; to do so would be a disservice to our values, our goals, and the artists, volunteers, and supporters who have already invested so much in us in these early stages.

We aim to protect our marginalized community members, because we want them to flourish. We can’t make the world or specific individuals less shitty, but we can make sure our organization will do everything in our power to create a space where our community feels supported and protected.

We may be a baby non-profit, but we’re aiming to handle this like bosses.

And on that note, learn more about Fused Creative and join our community of artists:

We’re doing dope things and you absolutely don’t want to miss out.