Eliza Swann “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16 from Gently Ai Goes Home   “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16, “Light is the left hand of darkness…”   “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16, The Blizzard   “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16, “I am an exile—you for my sake and I for yours.”   “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16, Why “Men” are Not Men   “A Bright Hand in Darkness”, 2014. HD Video Still, 6:16, “In the beginning there was ice and sun…”

By Migueltzinta Cah Mai Solís Pino Gender, the garment, has been tailored. But does it know the body like spandex? Is it a pair of jeans—machined, carved in that way, its fibers dilating and contracting as demanded? Or possibly the gender garment is a knit tube sock—a strange color, loose in places? A tiny knot in a corner and, otherwise, seamless. Really, a body, a gender, a self-presentation that is seamless is like nothing else. It is owned—yes, with a little help, I made this. Where are the seams? You marvel aloud. Show them to me, highlight them, use this laser pointer, show me where to touch that I may feel with my fingertips where they hid the seams. Make the distinction known between this decision and that moment. When did you know? When did you become…? What was the moment when woman became man, dyke became queen, marimacha became maricón? I’d say the moment was when that man got into his pickup truck, while, broom in my hand, I watched him through one-way glass. That was in late 2010, in rural Oaxaca; the sky blue with rain, but the earth dry and split open in places. A thief, I stole... Read More