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Art & Other Fictitious Imaginings
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The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
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The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
 My mother will be late picking me up, today. I’m sitting at the art table while the others bring their toys to the play carpet.
“Philippa. We’re done with drawing for the day,” Miss Benson calls. “My mom’s gonna be late,” I tell her. “Okay, well… that doesn’t matter,” she says. “We stay at the carpet while we wait for our parents.” I obey, but time passes. One by one, the other kids shed away like pieces of skin. The room is now raw and pulsing like an open cuticle. Miss Benson makes a phone call, and then she turns to me. “I’m going to wait here with you until your mom shows up,” she says. “You can finish your drawing, if you want.” The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
 Artist StatementMy installation artwork exists at the intersection of photography and sculpture. This hybridity of forms aligns with nostalgic and playful currents running through my practice. My work also carefully considers texture, as texture triggers powerful memories in my work. This texture is an integral trigger for self-determined identity, stemming from geographical and political situations and rooted in personal histories. Cyanotypes created using relics from my own personal history make two-dimensional records of three-dimensional objects, embedding the legacy of the object into the two-dimensional representation. My work in instant photography also takes the immediacy of the moment as a fabric for interpreting our environments.Instant photography can alleviate the feeling of longing for a finished product, the latent image revealing itself in mere seconds. Thus, my practice spans lived histories and the immediacy of the moment, capturing vivid truths latent within the everyday.
The transformative influence memory has on identity is a key theme in my work. The camera acts as a primary tool for retaining and interpreting memories. A process-oriented photographer, my work is a combination of digital, analog and alternative process photography. As an American citizen who arrived to this country as an immigrant, it is crucial for me to capture memories and to narrate lost time visually through photography. This stems from my efforts to revive discarded and forgotten objects from my family's past. These impulses influence my work as an experimental photographer: my portrayal of photography breaks free of the black frame and border and morphs into an object, inviting the viewer to interact. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Editor's Note: This piece originally appeared in Cease, Cows in March 2020.  Harper climbs the fence, straddling the railing while he kicks off rubber snake boots, setting his toes free to wiggle and probe. He hoists himself up into the loins of the Tupelo tree looming large in front of Mamie's floating shack. His phalanges grip grey furrowed bark and he scampers up its trunk with the agility of a feral spider monkey. Gnats encircle his head clambering for morsels of sweat, pus, and blood.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Serrina Zou  The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Taylor Blue Editor's Note: We recently published this artist's illustration to accompany the short story, "The Unseen Moth's Ballet."  Artist StatementAs an illustrator, I always seek a narrative in my art. I've always been fascinated with the strange and misunderstood archetypes of folktales: witches, goblins, ghosts. The icons of a child's nightmare. I believe our inner child doesn't die when we enter adulthood; it's simply buried and forgotten. My ultimate goal as an artist is to unearth our lost fantasies and fears, and tell a story through graphic imagery, no matter how simple or complex.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
 Editor's Note: This piece was previously published in the pacific REVIEW from San Diego State University Press. You can hear the author read it in this video. In New York, you’re always looking at two levels: ahead and below. Ahead so you don’t bump into a human or a kabob cart or a building and below so you don’t step in dog shit. The Monday before Thanksgiving, I was hustling to work, hopping over dog shit, used condoms, and spilled Jamaican takeout on my way to the subway. I was late again, but at least I was wearing sneakers. I was also wearing my typical aspiring novelist attire, and probably appeared a little hungry because of it.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Marina Rubin Editor's Note: This piece was first published in Mudfish, Issue 19, in November 2016.  She was laid out across a giant loveseat at the top of the hill, naked, voluptuous, almost porcelain, with an orchid in her hair and a dark choker, shocking against her white skin. A black cat with a ferocious raised tail was crouching at her feet.
“She is so sensual,” Lily whispered in awe, taking a panoramic photo of the statue. “Olympia is the crown jewel of the entire collection,” Katina nodded, looking up from the Sculpture Garden brochure. “Done after a painting by Edouard Manet, it hangs at The Musée d'Orsay. Supposedly the cat is some kind of a phallic symbol.” The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Editor's Note: This piece previously appeared in Paragon Journal and Ash Tales.  Anders is crying.
His face remains composed, not a single twitch, but his eyes are shining. All around her people are sniffling, some even sobbing and making a scene, but it’s Anders who stands out. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
 In the Kingdom of Absecon, there was a king who always told the truth, and a queen who always lied. If this sounds problematic, rest assured it was—but only for everyone else. Between themselves, King Ted and Queen Robyn were able to make it work, like the Knight and Knave in a logic puzzle whose cryptic utterances combine, somehow, to create meaning.
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