Locksteps
hyenas with clenched fists raised against patriarchy against state proudly raised hyenas that sneak around easily in a country that…
Armenian Eyes
I was always curious about why people smell the way they do but the thing about my mother’s smell was…
duality / two worlds collide
a queer superstar persona encounters a boy with a plastic AK-47 in a sunny february yerevan park they – in…
American Boys
The first thing Darius told me was a lie.
“Got an A. You?”
“Same,” I replied, keeping my paper face down.
We were each other’s first friend, I’d like to think. Despite being inches shorter than I was, he stood with confidence, as if he hadn’t landed two months prior. Dark tight curls covered his head, eyes brown with a tint of redwood if you looked close enough, and eyebrows thick above them. I envied his long eyelashes, even as a child. It didn’t take long until I found out he envied me, too.
Transcendence
«Ո՞ւր ես» Where are you? Wandering in yellowed maps along lines swooping and curving to touchtime-buried footsteps paths of storied ancestors…
They Left Their Home Behind and The Rug
“They Left Their Home Behind, Number 4 20”x20” Mixed media 2024 Photo credit: Mary Asatryan This work is part of…
Apostasia
I have committed apostasy. The price to pay is hell. Or so “they” say, rather gently. It is hate delicately…
Remnants, Reclamation, and Resistance: An Exploration of Marie Khediguian’s Depiction of Collective Memory, Intergenerational Trauma and the Impact of the Armenian Genocide
How does one engage with the invisible, silenced and erased? How can art bear witness to the darkest moments of human history, namely, torture, violence and sexual slavery, while holding space for human connection? These questions concern the practice of Marie Khediguian…
To Artsakh
It’s been raining a lot since I’ve come home,
fruiting mushrooms saluting the El Nino season.
Air marinated in dew greets my lungs
with a warmth opposing its expected dampness.