My love was bound in red silk,/ Thrust out forcefully to claim long-forgotten aristocratic titles/ When the ships of old have/ Taken on the air for water/ And it is blood they inhabit, not the/ Sweat falling
If Slavoj Žižek were to find out I was using his 2002 book, "Welcome to the Desert of the Real," to prove that aliens exist peacefully, he would view my efforts as my own passion for the Real.
Frida Kahlo's "La Columna Rota" is an anthem of self-reflection, fearlessness, and honesty for people who do not belong to predetermined classifications.
Hart's self-portraiture engages with disability art as it focuses on a self-representation that explicitly rejects and complicates traditional representations of breast cancer survivors and people with impairments/disabilities.
The shop was small, tucked away underneath an apartment building on Sixth Avenue. I ducked my head as I walked down the steps, and a small bell chimed as I stepped out of the frosty wind.
How can you reconcile your identity as a liberating force while using the language of your oppressor and benefiting from physical freedom that many of those in your homeland do not possess? Assia Djebar wrestles with these questions in "Fantasia."
One day, I phoned my grandparents’ house just to have a talk. My grandmother picked up the phone and told me that my grandfather was taking a nap upstairs. Soon enough, we were talking as relaxed as ever. At some …
Six months later, with a lump in her belly, she was on her way to California. When they arrived, they were met with the sea breeze and high tax rates. While she was out working, he was inside drinking, an unorthodox contortion of the American dream.
I remember burying the seeds every time I ate an apple. They never grew into apple trees. I remember going to the airport for fun. I remember, on Thompson Street, the moment they called the 2020 presidential race. I remember the way my childhood home smelled when it was completely empty.
I ended up on the second story of the tranquil cafe, surrounded by empty chairs, looking out into empty streets.
The school bus halts at my stop. My cul-de-sac still out of view, I continue forward, listening to the satisfying crunch of leaves under my feet, trying to forget the day I just had.
In a controversial ad campaign, intertwining discourses of gender and capitalism play out on the models' bodies.
The term and label of “human” is used to discern what receives moral consideration and what can be seen as simply a resource.