It is a revolutionary idea to share a space, which first requires asking permission. I notice how much of human behavior is to not respect the space of who you want to engage with or rather, take from. We take on this invasive tendency also in the form of encroaching and taking advantage of cultures, commodifying their lives, products and resources, with this whole sense of ownership, which seems to be the crux of white supremacy as well as general masculine energy.
Historically, the space we inhabit is of a woman. It starts from when we are in the womb, quite literally the first space we occupy. Is it any wonder that the deep disregard and violence towards women occurs as a perpetual expression of this first impulse we all possess as humans to occupy a woman then rip her apart.
Like rapper Chael Blinya’s “BLK Hole” lyric, “cause off rip, she got ripped off”, the idea of a supreme male God who single-handedly created everything is a direct act of erasure on the role of the feminine side of life and is the root of disrespect towards women. In plain sight humanity has failed to cite its source.
I have been hosting a virtual poetry workshop series over the past couple months, the most recent installment themed “Making Sense of Space.” Together we explored “space” in different aspects—outer space, as in black holes and NASA, which seems to come foremost in our minds when we consider “space”, as well as “space” in terms of where we occupy and the space created when we experience loss in our lives.
This idea of the infinite void can feel at once hopeless and hopeful. While black holes could delete the universe, they also “store information like the ultimate hard drive, they are like holograms in that everything inside is projected on its event horizon” (“Why Black Holes Could Delete the Universe—The Information Paradox”) We are projections directed towards an endless wall, a moving picture whirring constant, so we turn as much as we can, spinning the wheel, wondering how did we get here. And like the drive-in movie experience, we may discover that arriving in a space, the act of coming, is best when involving both of us.
Projection No.2 - First Showing
I got in trouble
for letting the visitors
write on my walls
we lived in Ichi-ban Tower
which means first
if it's all in order
the aftermath
of when my mother
invited people over
to discuss world peace—
I should have watched
the other kids closer
my room, my responsibility
a mistake I would be blamed
and punished with a ruler
measured in what’s used
to count distance
everywhere but where I live
I’ve been told
I’m in my own little world
an attempt to exhibit
our first graffiti,
watch how we leave our marks
without apology
it's possible
I may have even
encouraged it
if we reflect
the universe,
it is her space
and you enter
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