Originaly Monthly: March
artists and readings worth checking out this month.
So, I know I took some time off without warning but it's with good reason. For me, writing is a delicate and arduous task. The last thing I want to do is write for the sake of writing and allowing others, like yourself in this case, to read something with no literary merit. Knowledge of any kind is done a disservice if the focus is just to flood your inbox. That's just a waste. I've made some changes as well to The Monthly. In the coming months, I'll be shifting my writing to focus more on art (all kinds) and literature (all kinds) more than anything else. Also! If you need some advice or additional recs or have any question of any kind, click the link below and I'd be more than happy to share my 2 cents. So, ask a question! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy these long overdue recommendations. From, Alyssa
Mara Faúndez
Paine, Chile (b. 1998)
Large organic forms taking shape in larger than life bodies, make for playful storytelling in Faúndez’s pieces. At first glance, her pastel leaning palette creates a lighthearted air. Using size to contrast, objects playing props to a larger story makes her work feel like a game of I Spy. With her large forms and fun, but attentiveness to storytelling, the devil is always in the details.
Woody De Othello
Miami, Florida (b. 1991)
Othello’s work is just phenomenal. Obsessed with his use of organic material (ceramic, bronze, wood) that falls in line with a very spiritual creative practice is an understatement. He currently has an exhibition on view at PAMM in Miami as well, which I’ve recently written about (linked here), that has a viewing experience that aptly reflects these themes.
Elliot & Erick Jiménez
Miami, Florida (b. 1989)
Elliot and Erick are an identical twin artist duo that explores Afro-Cuban mythology often in their work. Their use of shadows and black paint plays into mystical surrealism. They’re not afraid of the dark because in it is where these beings hide. A lack of real embodiment allows their subjects to exist beyond physical comprehension. When light does come into play, it’s done through material that can reflect it: rhinestones, beads, and pearls alike.
Just Kids by Patti Smith ★★★☆☆
An active participant yet tepid wallflower, Patti documents her vagabond life as a poet, artist, musician, and all around creative talent when she was a twenty something living in 1960s New York. Documenting this, alongside her relationship with her partner Robert Mapplethorpe, you get this beautiful autobiography of someone trying to figure themselves out in an era that was so creatively vibrant and chalk full of legends we speak highly of today. I especially loved how her relationship with Mapplethorpe influenced her and vice versa. How, at the core of it all, despite their unconventional nature, there was an ever-present devotion to one another, even as they were coming into their own as creatives and people. Reading her journey in how she came into herself creatively, taking bits and pieces of her life experiences into every new chapter, was profound. It’s never described at any given point as some lighting strike, but rather a burgeoning climax that releases itself into her poems and listless writings.
Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann ★★★☆☆
I understand why this novel has the cult following that it does now. It’s a vibrant story that follows three young women’s journeys (Anne, Neely, and Jennifer) in the entertainment industry. Spanning a timeline of two decades, they’re all desperately trying to discover who they are, while trying not to lose themselves in the glitz and glamour of the world they’re in. Exceptionally written as the novel splits between three different points of view, and not once does the character development of any of these women feel lacking. It’s lively, it’s fun, and feels like a quick read despite its 466 page count.
Nepantla: An Anthology Dedicated to Queer Poets of Color edited by Christopher Soto ★★★☆☆
As the title goes, this beautiful selection of works ranges from Arianna Brown to Audre Lorde. Selected poems are not all dedicated to queer moments, but simply a display of work written by queer writers, which is more important now than ever. Since having read Night Sky With Exit Wounds, I’ve been a fan of Ocean Voung’s writing, and his piece Someday I’ll love Ocean Voung was in here. With a neat poetic bow, this anthology ends with James Baldwin’s Untitled.