three

The impetus for my third and final project came from thinking about voices. For much of my life I have worked with or studied people who are marginalized and disenfranchised, people who lack a voice. From abused and neglected children to women who are survivors of physical and psychic violence, so many exist in the world without a voice.

Keeping in mind that I and all of my peers at the University of Texas at Austin are privileged to be where we are, receiving a world class education, I wanted my third project to pay tribute to the ActLab as a space for people of all walks of life to feel safe to express themselves. Imagine what the world would look like if everyone had the opportunity, people of every race and gender identity, to speak out. Existing in a space where people listen without judgment is a transformational experience. So, hats off to you, ActLab!

Since my first to projects were, let’s say, a little heavy, I wanted my third to be joyous and celebratory. Hence the homage. Here’s how I went about it:

I had my classmates send me a list of ‘reasons to live.’ Things that make you feel ecstatic or overjoyed to be alive. Then I had my amazing friends, Larissa, Summer, and Jonathan choose a few each to illustrate. Once the drawings were done and I had written out each of the reasons and scanned everything, I made little booklets for each of my classmates. I then had several of my friends help me record each of the reasons to live, and once done I set the recording to music. I burned CDs for each of my classmates with the recording and a mix of some of my favorite songs. (Track list below).

Reasons to Live:

sleeping until you wake up

going to concerts

the feeling of satisfaction upon (actually) completing a painting

weird succulents

the middle of orgasm when you are writhing, pumping, and wanting or actually hitting your head against the floor/wall/counter/chair/cabinet/dirt/tree/air.

picking those white cotton-y things off prickly pears cacti and squishing them

breakfast tacos

swimming in the ocean

watching my kid do anything whatsoever

uncle eddie’s vegan cookie comas

drunken subway rides whilst a friend reads catcher in the rye aloud

traveling to a new place and experiencing the culture.

pure, unadulterated, self-prepared, organic, local, picked from just up the road, Ecuadorian chocolate.

honest to god stars

slow morning sex with lots of face kisses

sitting around the table eating dinner and conversing with friends and family.

sitting in a window seat in NY, window open, looking down at the street through the fire escape, smoking cigarettes

the tip top corners of her mouth when she smiles ever so big

6 AM-7 AM in the summer--the way the mist feels

face pressed to the window of the airplane, flying into a new city, new country, new world

seeing the excitement and wonder in others when they are introduced to something new.

getting the narrative arc just...perfectly...right

lying in the grass, looking in the sky for cloud animals

the feeling you get when you are in a place of such natural transcendent beauty, like the top of a mountain, where you know that if you died now, you wouldn't fear because you are so complete in this moment.

an amazingly badass blues riff

incredibly fresh bagels

laughing in the dark lying next to a loved one

hiking at high altitude in the Sierra

when a poem says something so true in language you hadn’t ever thought to use like that

waking up in a tent in West Texas and seeing all the little bugs stuck in the condensation on the outside

my best ladies in fancy dresses, smiling coyly

cats. cat paws, cat noses, weird cat noises, cat tails, cat fur, cat purrs, cat movements.

helping people do weird transgressive stuff in the name of art

PIZZA HANDS

that last microsecond before your first true kiss with a new set of
lips, hesitant, taking years to travel the final inch

dancing, eyes closed in the middle of a crowded space. your knowledge of the people around you having no connection with your feelings. purely being in the ecstatic energetic flow of the movement in your body.

snow. everything about it. how it transforms a city, muffles sound and somehow makes everything feel closer, nearer. the way it whispers as it falls. how it makes trees look like lace and the night sky pink with reflected light. the way it tastes and smells. how it's just frozen water droplets, but it can make an entire city slow down and take notice, change the way it functions.

dehydrated granny smith apples

the exact moment the caffeine hits and your eyes open fully

knowing there is always a place to escape to

surprises (period)

a gorgeous sunset over the pacific

being one with my mom, dad and sister when we all catch the giggles and turn red in laughter together

honest, genuine, eye-to-eye interactions with animals

seeing a twinkle in someone's eyes when they smile

really good tomatoes. ideally in season out of an actual person's garden. fleshy and juicy and firm and sweet but not like fruit, because you eat them with the perfect amount of salt, so it's tangy on the tongue.

knowing he will be next to me

the sense of calm and possibility being in the middle of travel. whether in the car driving a long distance, in an airport during a layover, on a plane to a destination, or a boat traveling across an ocean. being in that space where you are only where you can be. no obligation to be anywhere else. the present moment of being lost and in between places.

re-reading a favorite book in a hammock on a sunny day

drinking champagne straight out of the bottle

airport moments

the faux-silence of the deserts and forests