drift

drift

rigs still hanging. the crowd’s gone. just light, angles, and someone wrapping cables in the distance. no urgency. just the slow undoing of what passed through.

#tiohtiàke #drift #traces #surfaces #fragments #blackness #refusals

they painted it red. no signature. no spectacle. just a fact on a wall most people won’t read. someone bikes past. life goes on. or doesn’t.

#tiohtiàke #drift #refusals #blackness #traces #fragments

steel and glass above me. heat on the thighs. watermelon trunks, black towers, a view that costs too much. but i’m here anyway. resting in the contradiction.

#tiohtiàke #drift #surfaces #blackness #fragments #holdings #refusals

intermission. outside the ball. boots up. talk moving. nothing profound. just enough to reset before stepping back in.

#tiohtiàke #drift #blackness #queerness #holdings #fragments

me and mother phoenix. mid-show, mid-shift, but nothing uncertain.

the name had already settled. this was the exhale. not just a mother— my friend, my people, my kin.

some moments don’t need a mic. just light, sweat, knowing.

#tiohtiàke #drift #holdings #blackness #queerness #fragments #refusals

for one of my best ones. the candles held. so did we. strawberries, sugar, a whole lot of light.

not a performance of joy— the real thing. held in the breath, shared in the room.

this is how we stay.

#tiohtiàke #drift #holdings #queerness #blackness #fragments #refusals

a march of mourning. they carry the names in cloth, the weight of what has been done. downtown tries to pretend it’s still normal. but we are past normal. this is not protest. this is a procession for the dead.

#tiohtiàke #drift #refusals #traces #holdings #blackness

l’art existe. tucked between brutalist lines and fluorescent shadows. not a declaration— a reminder. of what survives the structure. of what glows anyway. even in institutions. especially in ruins.

#tiohtiàke #drift #traces #surfaces #refusals #fragments #holdings

on the way to a house practice. air heavy with smoke, with memory, with movement. we laughed anyway. pointed. posed.

played around with a new category—something shifted. not just in the body. in the breath. family feels like that sometimes: silly and sacred at once.

#tiohtiàke #drift #walks #queerness #blackness #holdings

they call it wisdom but it reads like distance.

pages upon pages to say: perhaps you are real but not yet certain. perhaps you belong but only if it doesn’t make others uncomfortable.

they write of tension like it’s an external thing. they measure discomfort but not whose it is.

they gather everything but us.

no affected voice in the room, no hand in the margins, no breath in the footnotes.

somewhere, a child tries to speak and finds their name missing from the glossary.

#tiohtiàke #drift #fragments #refusals #traces