Letter For Those Who Were Unable to Attend by Bhanu Kapil
January 11th, 2022 Dear writer-artist-maker-weaver-sculptor: Hi. This is Bhanu. I tried to make a small video message for you, as an after-gift or invitation, feeling that (yes) sometimes it’s not possible to attend. To arrive. To travel or be there. Something stops the day, or else: work, family duties, the time zone itself. This is the body. I tried to make a video, but it turns out that I...
Waves by Kimberly Williams
“Waves” by Kimberly Williams Kimberly Williams’ Artist Statement: The ocean and nature is wild and unpredictable, like life. I painted this to remind myself that you can’t control this force. The sea can be rough, choppy, biting, full of predators. But, also calm, warm, glowing, and welcoming.
The Q | for creative renewal
Wherever we are in this moment, we ask ourselves: Q: Am I ready? How will I create something on my horizon to look forward to?*Responses will be curated and may be shared with permission.Permission* Yes, I give my permission Show Full AgreementBy submitting your response, you are granting AROHO permission for possible publication – in whole or excerpts – in digital Waves and Waves archives, which may also be shared on our website and...
A New Year’s Blessing
May we meet on the horizon where water meets light, wandering. Bodies rooted and reaching. Steady in, steady out. All mouths and hands wondering. Our hearts our rooms, side by side, open wide. Each moment here is our sacred blessing. Q: If you were to write your own blessing for sister creatives what would it be? What if you conceived of a blessing for your own creative work?*Responses will be curated and may be shared with...
Braiding Water and Light
“Is there a way that art-making or writing practice is a way of stepping out of toxic lineage, as much as it is a braiding or weaving of water and light?” — Bhanu Kapil Submit your response “I wished that woman would write . . . so that other women, other unacknowledged sovereigns, might exclaim: I too, overflow; my desires have invented new desires, my body knows unheard of songs.” — Hélène...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
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