Harriet: News & Community

A section of my bookshelf is dedicated to my most delicate, most precious books. They are hand-made, photocopied, stitched, or held together by binder clips. They are zines and comics....

  “[T]he drawing/ starts with a jab and goes/ round and round larger and/ larger  faster and faster/ like the children who swirl/ faster and faster–” (Louise Bourgeois). I, too, need to...

“There’s no clarity,” a gallery director said about my artwork. “It’s not visually appealing, either.” His words hit me, half traumatizing me and half pushing me to reflect on my...

In late 2021, Ugly Duckling Presse, where I am an editor, will publish a trilingual edition (in Guaraní, Spanish, and English) of a chapbook by the contemporary Paraguayan poet Miguelángel...

In the opening paragraph of her book, MOTHERs, Rachel Zucker says, “In fifteen minutes I’ll need to stop writing and pick up my son.” I had never encountered that feeling...

I love lighthouses, shafts of light tilting into water, scanning slowly back and forth. Some of them radiating several planes of foggy light, ghostly windmills. Some with thin beams, piercing as the...

In this harsh light, in this siren-light, these panics, this pandemic, the air heavy with gloom, with violence—the news hard to bear, sleep broken into nightly by that assailant Terror,...

Again and again, we press the needle of experience into our body and push: You and I step onto the platform, one body inside another, consciousness to consciousness—upon a chalk-dusted stage—we...

An eighteen-gauge syringe teeters like a spent cigarette on the edge of a kitchen plate. The pinky-length needle is gently curved with reuse, sticky now with amber, the dark honey...

This book forthcoming, my first art book, has happened so quickly, as “written” and as published, that I can scarcely describe it. As I say in my intro, I bought...