When I moved to Chicago, I was definitely jumping into a fad, which was community engagement. That was definitely treated and abused. The word was tossed around so carelessly.

Long story short: I was on a walk the other day, thinking about the damp fungal semiotic oblivion around the word “art.”

Misty-eyed and gorgeous, baby. 

Loving yourself is about embracing the love you have for your practice because you love yourself first.

The myth is that if we can’t “make it,” then we don’t want it bad enough. Such thinking fails to consider people as whole parts within a whole system.

My hope, but not my expectation, is that together we may yield more tremble than objects, because we will be concerned with finding, and having found, ways to carry the camera for each other.

As Thompson shows, the modern work day—and even our basic sense of what constitutes an hour or a year—was a violent imposition that met fierce resistance.

It takes unassailable courage to speak truth to power with your full chest, whether it’s into a megaphone, to a trusted circle of friends, or whispered to yourself in solitude.

Critique is ultimately a dialogue, one which unveils the structures within which the critique takes place. It is subjective. There are no objective truths in critique. It is a practice.

Music is one of my biggest euphorias.

I’ve been called a utopian for thinking another world is possible, but it’s going to be a different world no matter what happens.

I am home. My ancestors called this place Michi Gami.

“We have to highlight the birds. We need to give them the proper credit.”

Longitude is a human creation, having to do with the political belly button of whoever is of influence.

Is an archive that doesn’t aim for forever still an archive? And if I happen to have forever, would I even care about archives?

Critique is only ever the process of articulating something real, by which I mean, shared.

The first MDW Fair was an important intersection that helped us retool our dissent and reactivate our mission.