notes

a page dedicated to letters, notes, reflections, poems

10.11.2024

To the Frank Gallery in Pembroke Pines:

This message is in response to the thread of conversations regarding the appearance of the Florida Statute 287.135 on the vendor registration form that I am required to complete in order to receive my contract as a participant in the Ebb & Flow: Exploring the Womanhood Continuum Exhibition at The Frank Gallery.

My concern with Florida Statute 287.135 exists beyond whether I have the right to express my political views. Since our last conversation and recent follow-up emails, I am assured that we agree that being able to express my political views in the cultural space is a given. Although you have provided the reassurance of your full support in standing by the right of my creative expression as an individual, its conditions remain in compliance with an institution that prohibits contracts with the voices of entities participating in the BDS movement.

I cannot enter into an agreement with The Frank, knowing that this contract means that I am entering a place that is willingly receiving funding that limits political expressions and, more specifically, continues to litigate on behalf of Israeli political interests. Despite the city attorney's assurances that: "Florida Statute 287.135: …is entirely unrelated to personal values, beliefs, or actions… this statute and clause have nothing to do with what individuals, like yourselves, believe or stand for…," an agreement with the Frank Gallery would make me, as an individual, willingly complicit. I understand this provision came as a surprise as we entered the last phases of preparation for this exhibition; however, the questions that linger are: Now that you know of its presence, what will you do moving forward? Is the Frank Gallery committed to its community or to its funders? Will the Frank Gallery continue to remain complicit in Israel's genocidal campaign against the Palestinian and Lebanese people? This statute must be challenged by the community and the cultural institutions implicated by this requirement. Its presence on a vendor registration form as a required field cannot be normalized—even if it does not directly apply to an individual registering as a vendor.

My artistic practice and my belief systems are not separate. My concerns regarding the politics of care are very much grounded in active praxis; they address a radical, black, queer position that articulates the importance of this work. We cannot claim to be creating a space to explore the womanhood continuum, we cannot claim to be inclusive to the voices of all women, knowing that the conditions that provide funding for this exhibition support a State that is actively committing genocide, killing thousands of women abroad in Gaza and Lebanon.

I have appreciated your support of my artistic practice, as well as our conversations over the last several months since my invitation to this exhibition. It is disappointing that we are no longer in a place of alignment. To continue our working relationships in the future, it would be because you, too, commit to utilizing your resources and your platform to end this genocide. As cultural practitioners, we can no longer afford to add to the art world's complicity in only aestheticizing our histories and current struggles.

I hope to continue the work of standing in solidarity together with all oppressed peoples, to continue to stand together in solidarity with women domestically and abroad against the tyranny and brutal violence of patriarchy, capitalism, and neocolonialism.

To liberation,

Les Gomez-Gonzalez

6.15.24

5:57am

See saw bird wakes up

5.25.2024

Names that refer to roundness

Esoteric and mystic

Oruborus

Ursae

Uma

Hank

[Wičhákhiyuhapi Ursae Major]

5.13.2024

kaolin can move me through a world in the way I hope to in our world

I found willingness

4.22.2024

The loss is accommodated; figured

A sense as a formal reorganization

Life destroying diagrams

2.14.2024

Seeking the reclamation of emotional connection and trust within my family- distorted through transition and translation, between generations and across lands. In December 2023, my dad and I went on a trip together to República Dominicana. On this trip I focused on listening and observing. The constant readjustments of my phone’s camera to the binoculars attempt to align our lens. He would share a story or point to something as we drove by and I’d put the binoculars first- as a means to center his view first. Then I would see where mine aligns. Can I find him? Can I find where we meet? Oftentimes we don’t and we didn’t, and this comes through as the phone or binoculars fall, as well as through the shakiness and instability of this positioning. This is a portal, a loving letter, a reach for grasp (-ing); its form constantly shifting, often interrupted, ongoing, uneasy, though confidently and consistently molded by love.

2.3.2024

How do we consider- how do we hold- the sacredness and power of the spoken word- of someone's voice? It carries a particular weight and record in the bodies of those who are in the room to receive them. Noticing the difference between something that is written and the truth in the tone and in the deliverance of the person speaking those very words. That which is written may truly mean something else uttered out loud.

________________________

banned bookstore exhibition: My work exists in this space as bearers of collective memory. Sixty unfired kaolin pinch pots reside on one of the shelves of a bookcase, separated from the original 1, 641 of them. These unfired pinch pots have absorbed water from my ritual menstrual baths, as well as the oils from my fingers which have saturated their pores (an accompanying video plays on loop here as well). These sixty pinch pots exist here as a radiating appendage of the larger circle which they originate from. I see them as messengers. Unfired, they remain incredibly porous, sensitive, and fragile. They hear and feel everything- the way our bodies do. They are remembering with us.

1.24.24

tender eye contact

a loving gaze

soft chuckling

roaring laughter

an embrace where your arms are constantly adjusting, squeezing for a deeper connection

holding on as much as you can before you have to let go

your palms absorbing their warmth

12.4.2023

[La Isabela]

“Everything is concrete now. It doesn’t matter. But, go, go! Find what you’re looking for.”

-my grandmother

11.3.2023

There are now 1,569 kaolin pinch pots. These pinch pots were created to continue living and evolving, and I am feeling so deeply towards the fact that they have been able to transform with me. It is amazing how it has happened so effortlessly. 1,641 exists as an embodiment of self, in the potentiality gifted in living. The number is an approximation; arranged in concentric circles, there is a pulse.

_____

Since the piece was made, after trying different birth controls and having a scary experience with the Paragard IUD. I had to get off of them completely. My body simply wasn’t responding well. After a year of not being on birth control, Roe vs. Wade was overturned. Those who were tracking their periods on apps were told to delete them because of fears of being tracked by the U.S. government. A year later, there is now an ongoing lawsuit against TEVA Pharmaceuticals, who created the Paragard IUD, because of alleged defects with the IUD, having resulted in thousands of cases of severe injuries. Since the piece was made, I have missed several periods due to stress.

7.25.23

I give my life to love. I always have

I hold deep gratitude for heartbreak

The depth of pain I’ve felt in heartbreak has only reminded me of how deeply I have loved. And so I am never left feeling regret. I am reminded of how soft and tender I am, so I always keep my heart open.

I live for love. I live in love.

7.22.23

morir soñando

…to die dreaming…

coconut milk with dominican vanilla. i love coconut. it reminds of summers in washington heights with my great-grandmother. oranges make my favorite juice. i.love.orange juice.

my dad and I created a coconut milk morir soñando recipe together.

summers are nostalgic and romantic. this is my first summer in miami in a while…

…

chew your first bite slowly. completely break it down. drink your first sips very slowly. let the drink sit behind your teeth. activate your senses. it is important that we all face each other, in front of our hearts and bellies, plates in hand. noticing those brief moments of intimacy with those who’s eyes meet yours whenever you look up. maybe you look away right away. maybe you hold your gaze, together metabolizing the room.

6.12.2023

IT’S OKAY

YOU’RE FINE

THE SKY IS BRIGHT BLUE

6.11.2023

the sunset in front of my house is incredibly beautiful, there’s a patch of grass between my house and my neighbor’s and the sun kisses the walls very tenderly, very warmly

this is where I like to take photos of my blankets, the ones that I lay under my clay, the ones I thrift specifically for each clay body/project; I lay them on the grass or hang them on my fence

it’s always really quiet and very soft

4.24.23

Acknowledge thoughts and feelings memories sensations

Connect with body body scans breathing movement masturbation

Engage with actions valued action behavior

11.6.2022

In August of 2019, I had a copper IUD (Paraguard) inserted. In August of 2020, I had it removed, having endured numerous complications that were extremely painful. I have had a difficult time looking for a method of birth control that was compatible with my body, and still have yet to find a solution there. I kept the IUD once it was removed; it is still in the blue/clear plastic bag it was handed to me in at the gynecologist’s office. I kept an ultrasound photo from one of the many transvaginal ultrasounds I have done to try to find sources of pain that remain unknown.

This work became a study of what this unknown could be. Of what this embedded-ness felt like. Sewing copper wire into the redart clay, redefining that embedded-ness as an attempted act of repair. Teetering the line between tension and release. Brushing a bentonite paste onto the redart surface and the copper wire, thinking of bentonite as a cleansing agent; although, the bentonite also scars the clay's surface- it leaves permanent traces of its process. In the kiln, the materials undergo a transformation- the copper wire oxidizes, is left brittle or melts. The bentonite becomes glassy flakes.

The work transcends its origin; these materials have and take on lives of their own once they are made and especially after they go through the kiln. As it is two years later since beginning this project, mentally I am in a different space. As I have made these, I have become heavily tuned into the materials themselves. The work is becoming something else, and I am figuring out what that is.

10.26.2022

sharing a cup of water with someone is incredibly intimate. It’s nothing like sharing a soft drink or juice. It is as if the water’s transparency makes us more aware of ourselves- of our bodily existence. those last sips of water hold the most-

and of what we call backwash: “the unappetizing mixture of saliva and beverage that flows back into a glass or bottle after a person takes a drink.”

i so desperately reach for the last sips of your water so I can be the one to refill it.

always a glass

always one cup

together, we share

”the…mixture of [the breaths you (we)

took (held),

life from the room we sat in, and maybe little remnants of herbs from the tea we pour into that very cup sometimes.]”

always a glass

always

[a cup of water before bed

early in the morning

with every meal]

10.2022

I THINK ABOUT HOW WE DANCE TOGETHER IN THE KITCHEN

THE WAY I GO LEFT AND YOU TURN RIGHT

THE WAY YOU LIFT YOUR ARM OVER MY HEAD AND I DUCK A LITTLE BECAUSE YOU'RE CARRYING THE CUTTING BOARD TO THE OTHER SIDE

I THINK ABOUT HOW SOMETIMES OUR FEET FACE EACH OTHER

AND HOW WE ARE BOTH WALKING TO THE SINK AND DO THAT AWKWARD BACK AND FORTH UNTIL ONE OF US RECEDES, AND I'D LIKE TO SAY THAT I WOULD ALWAYS LET YOU GO FIRST BUT THAT ISN'T TRUE

I THINK ABOUT HOW YOU LEAN BACK ON THE COUNTER, BIG SPOON IN HAND

I LAY MY BODY ON THE FLOOR, ARMS SPREAD OUT

I'M JUST SO HUNGRY AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

5.2.2022

-> INFLAMATION <-

why is my endometrium lining over growing? (if it is)

is there something being held within the uterus, enabling the lining to seek another place to grow? to grow over my intestines (if it is)? what may be triggering the overgrowth? is it a genetic thing? my cells are just programmed or encoded to overproduce and spread? why is my body having such a detrimental and painful response to ovulation?

9.16.2020

Full body 5 .3 secs

Back: 5 secs

Boob 4.3

3.2020

I visited my great-grandmother’s apartment in New York City for the first time in about 10 years. She no longer lives there, but her apartment still does.

As a child I spent the summers at mama’s house in Washington Heights. I sat in the living room watching Jay Jay the Jet Pilot en español. Every day I heard the fire trucks pass by, and every late afternoon the Mister Softee truck would come. I remember having to sift through the flowers and leaves of the all the plants she had along her windowsill so I could watch people walk by. On the fridge were fruit magnets, and inside the freezer were those popsicle sticks you could break in half. Mama was always cooking and serving me seconds. Sometimes I would watch her sew on the sewing machine she had set right next to the kitchen. I spent a lot of time in her bedroom, waddling in her kitten heels trying on every single lipstick she had.

In mama’s apartment my first instinct was to stand and sit in every room the way I remembered doing so as a child. It was so strange roaming around these rooms without the sound of the tv on (there was no longer a tv in the apartment), or the sound of her voice in the background.

2020

_____

the only angle that matters is that which keeps your ankles to the 34th degree-easily breakable. the pressure in your ligaments breeds wealth-y, a woman who still manages to stand up straight.

_____

i think our feet should get acquainted. the callouses on the soles of our feet have a lot to say about where we’ve been

_____

i’d like to kiss you in that little space between the side of your nose and your cheek. to feel the tenderness of such a kiss, as it is planted so gently…

_____

your silence

is raging

turn it up

set us both

ablaze

_____

come closer. gently touch your lips against my ear. the right one, yes. i can feel your breath tickle my neck. i think my body has collapsed into yours because I can no longer feel the coldness that kept me up straight; rigid and unfeeling.

_____

who can sit and stare at the sun when there are maggots in the ground squirming? they seek your love too.

_____

i’ve been waiting to get murdered my whole life

that way, my death won’t be my fault

_____

please shut the fuck up

_____

if i got murdered, it would still be my fault.

9.23.2019

Butternut Squash soup (thank you, sabrina)

Butternut squash

Salt

Pepper

Ginger

Cayenne pepper

Coconut milk

Garlic powder

Cumin

Cinnamon

Teaspoon of honey

Carrots

Zucchini (op)

Turmeric