Archives for category: LGBTQ

Unabashedly gushing over artist Zilia Sánchez in Bust

Bust’s raison d’être is for feminists with something to get off their chests. So I wrote about experiencing Zilia Sánchez’s work for the first time in 2018 and being furious about it. See why: Artist Zilia Sánchez’s Soy Isla (I Am an Island) Retrospective Comes Ashore. 

ElMuseo ZiliaSanchez

Like two plumes of smoke rising on a bright day, Juana de Arco (Joan of Arc) (1987) features two painted panels billowing nearly to the ceiling. The immensity of the body brings to mind the historic magnitude of the title’s heroine, and as I look closely at the curves, crevices, lips, and nipples, the sensation of surveying the landscape around the open legs of a love with whom I want to forget time.

Soy Isla is scheduled to be on view at  El Museo Del Barrio November 20, 2019 – March 22, 2020. (El Museo is closed for public health concerns – stay tuned for more information.)

The exhibition catalog is viewable here: Embodied Spaces of Zilia Sánchez.

“What do you want to lie about?” asked Kiese Laymon; “Write that,” Sari Botton said.

Me: Marriage Proposal Follies for Longreads.

girlfriend-proposal Katie Kosma

Illustration by Katie Kosma. So perfect. I’m obsessed with it.

 

June is Pride month. As a kind of meditation, I read books by queer authors or stories about queer people. Some have been in my TBR stacks for ages, some newly published for the season.

Here’s what I read:

O’Keeffe: The Life of an American Legend (1993) an obsessive biography about the artist by Jeffrey Hogrefe.

Myriam Gurba’s Mean (2017) is described as part memoir, part ghost story, part true crime. And it is all art.

This cover, tho. Myriam Gurba, Mean (2017)

 

Eleanor and Hick: The Love Affair that Shaped a First Lady (2016), an epistolary-based biography about Eleanor Roosevelt and reporter Lorena Hickok, and their found love letters by Susan Quinn.

My partner and I read David Sedaris’ new collection of essays, Calypso (2018), together, like total lesbians. I held the book; she made slight nods when it was time to turn the page.

For fun, I read When Katie Met Cassidy (2018), a novel love story, swooning around modern day NYC by Camille Perri.

And I’ve just started Against Memoir: Complaints, Confessions, and Criticisms (2018) by Michelle Tea, whose perfect punk pitch of love and fight promises to help get me through July 4th this year.

Seeing this list–all together here–suddenly feels remarkable. These books represent such a spectrum of age, class, gender, and queerness; where they call home, spreading from North Carolina to LA, Brooklyn to New Mexico; their work exhibiting a variety of fineness. But also. For as fantastically diverse as they are in some respects, they are predominantly white authors writing about white characters or about white subjects.

My books are not usually so white. This is something I’m super intentional about. I read non-fiction (pretty much non-stop) because I’m interested in people and history. I deeply appreciate all of these books–adore that these stories are being shared–but it’s also true that there are so, so, so, so many stories yet to be supported into books.

The Feminist Press is hosting their Louise Meriwether First Book Prize for a debut work by a woman or non-binary author of color. Today is the last day to submit a manuscript. If you’re waiting for a sign, an omen, a flapping flag of some sort, may this be it.

%d bloggers like this: