Zerozine: Warp x Weft

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z e r o z i n e issue warp

one x


Warp and weft are technical terms that are used to describe the components of a woven structure. Warp is the term for the material that is the vertical structure for the weft material to weave over and under horizontally. 0ZONE invited Baltimore based artists of color to explore how the mechanism and the concept of weaving can be used to interpret the makings of our social fabric. What does it look like when we gather our individual strands together and construct something new? What is the importance of gathering our individual strands to build something bigger than ourselves?














0ZONE is found by and currently organized by collective of Korean American or immigrant artists based in Baltimore city. The name 0ZONE is a phonetic translation of the Korean word 곾쥴 which means coexistence. The use of the double meaning in this Korean word stems from examining our own identity and double consciousness as American and Korean immigrants. Through 0ZONE initiatives we seek to build spaces and amplify voices of our fellow creatives of color and discuss the power of our diaspora through our work.


My name is Skyy Garcia. I am an intersectional feminist, raised in Baltimore. I have a deep passion for activism through art, and my platforms of choice are poetry and photography. I love the beautify of capturing stories through words and imagery. Advocating for equal rights is something that is extremely important to me and I believe in doing so by any means possible. Whether it is by using my voice, capturing a moment, or writing a story or poem, I believe that it is my responsibility as an occupant of this world to help further the advancement of all people. I believe and recognize the interconnectedness of us all, and also see where all social issues intersect. I think that is immensely important to stand up for all issues. We cannot gain progress by stepping on the heads of those below us. @milkywhey_

Intro to the American Complex There’s no justice, there’s just us.

We took that pledge, in lies we trust.

A nation founded on the lives of the free, they took that freedom and changed what it means. We are now all worshipping the wrong shade of green.

Our egos soar red, white, and blue. Too many grey areas, no different hue.

So many outdated guidelines, never anything new, while they force us to live our lives through one world view.

Sometimes I think people like us were never meant to benefit from this system. For every justified complaint we’re told to stop ‘playing the victim’

Silenced No More Ask me my perspective, I just wanna be respected. Cos I’m feeling so neglected in a society where women aren’t protected. It seems like every word is an apology, like I was born to be sorry. But I won’t be. I wanna be heard, these words. Are just words but they’re strong, and I won’t move on until I have what I desire. I am a woman, sparking a fire. A flame that’s taking names, I’m taking control of these games, and nothing will ever be the same. When I’m done, I’ll be a woman on the run, a smoking gun, born to stun. Born to fly, while ashes fall from my eyes.


Ashley Wu hails from Central NJ and is currently in Baltimore MD pursuing a BFA in Graphic Design. During her time away from the picket-fenced suburbs of NJ, she was given her first chance to explore what identity meant, what a community outside of whiteness meant, and what she meant to herself. Her work has transitioned to represent these new ideas that seek personal resistance and self education in culture, history, and identity, and it has spilled out into involvement within different identity based communities both local and online including Baltimore Asian Resistance in Solidarity and Baltimore AAPI Creatives. @awuuuu

Today I am alive, today I exist. I struggle in this world with my ever conflicting identities, thoughts, perceptions of who I should be and how I should exist in this world.

I am angry in this world of binaries, this world of light and dark, black and white, good and evil that just does not ever exist. There is criticism that is able to be critiqued upon in every little thing and I am critical. I am tired. I am exhausted.

All of the questions and doubts run through my head, all conflicts arise in me. I am afraid to be thought of as too Chinese, too vocal, too loud, too structured, too bossy, too aggressive, too critical, too cynical, but I am.

I am trying to not be led down deep in the rabbit hole that spins me into anger and depression that consume and overwhelm my entire being, but I just need to speak and teach and hope that people learn. Today I am alive and I exist but tomorrow will I fall deep in my bed to never get back out? There are days where I wake up ten times, unmoving, incapable of living that day, finding no motivation to go and face the world that I am always in conflict with.

How do I exist? How do I exist in this world without constantly getting questioned, and pushed, and pulled to fit the perfect mold and model when I don’t want to be. I just want to be me.

How do I live? How do I exist in this world that wants to hate me so much? I don’t know how to exist but I know that I exist.

what made you want to submit your work to this warp x weft publication? how do you think your work relates to the theme? A lot of my time lately has been spent on self-reflection as a queer East Asian woman of color, and how I work to succeed with strikes already set against me in this world. I think my work brings these thoughts finally out of my head, in the hopes of it resonating with others, and to start a conversation out loud that I know we’ve all had with ourselves but not necessarily with others.

why do you think many artists of color reflect on and talk about their cultural identity in their work? I think it’s impossible not to. Cultural identity is something that impacts our lives every single day, whether it’s because we embrace it or because we try to ignore it through the act of assimilation. My Asian identity is something that I’ve tried to avoid for so long, because growing up I was praised for being more “American”. Which I’ve learned was coded for “White”. But now that I’ve accepted and embraced myself, and chose to love myself and my culture that comes with it, hell yeah I’m going to finally talk about it! I’m making up for lost time.

what does it mean to work/collaborate in a space that is only reserved for artists/creatives of color? To me, working in a space for creatives of color, even just people of color in general, means I don’t have to explain myself. I can finally feel like I just...exist. And that I exist for me. But on the other hand, it’s also a strong environment of self-education and self-crit, where I’m unlearning all the prejudices and beliefs that come with being in a predominantly white space, and relearning what I choose to believe in and what my own truths are. It’s a place of emotional care.


Biology, biodiversity, and phenomena of nature are the starting points of origin for my latest body of work. As I came to understand the beauty of nature I found immense inspiration in recreating the growth process. In mimicking natural phenomena I am inspired to explore the iconographic link to natural processes. Buddhism is the culture I grew up with and serves as the insight for my recent body of work. I explore my understanding of the faith in relation to myself as a student. Buddhism is a personal salvation, a self-transformation. My act of cutting paper is a metaphor for the transformative process within Buddhism. The materials placed around my cutouts are a replication of a place of worship. My shrine serves as a reflection of the kitsch aesthetic I experience.


Caroline Xia uses her film photography and video work to provide insight of what it is to be an Asian American women, navigating the modern world today. Residing from Queens, New York and growing up in New York City, she allows her distinctive experiences an8d positive outlook on life to shape her work. She continues to explore her identity and the world around her as she focuses on highlighting and documenting the everyday little moments in life she finds herself in. She is currently attending Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) for Film & Video and is based in NYC. @xiawty

Making art about my identity and culture is what I was most passionate about.

Will it come off as “obvious?”

But it is natural and instinctual

I don’t want to be cynical.


Don’t shut up about who you are and what you feel.


Kaila Philo is a Baltimore-based writer. She has been published in The Millions, Winter Tangerine, Mask Magazine, Apricity Press, Haiku Journal, and The Feminist Wire, with forthcoming work in Catapult.

These were the mornings that nostalgia was made of. We’d wake up to birds crying for the sun and an ocean beating against the sand. We’d hop out of our cots, past the bathroom and towards the kitchen for black tea milk tea (“coffee”) and biscuits. We’d pretend to brush our teeth. She’d know we hadn’t brushed our teeth. We’d go and brush our teeth.

We’d button up our button-ups and slip burgundy pleated dresses over them. We’d pull up our socks and stick our feet in our black Mary Janes, scuffed from the afternoons of play that followed. We’d pick up our rucksacks and run out the door, we’d stop and pick some fruit from the cherry trees out front. We’d hop on the back of his bike. We’d watch the skyline slip by like ribbon pulled backward. I’d drop my rucksack in some cases, we’d stop and argue about whether it was on purpose. I’d pretend it wasn’t. I’d walk back to the rucksack watching the waves threaten me.

We’d go to school. We’d sit in our classrooms and listen to Teacher. She’d tell us what the letter R signified. We’d listen but barely understand, for we’re a fresh three years old. We’d turn our attention to the window as the green monkeys swung by in the trees.

We’d go outside to play. They’d go outside to play. I’d go outside to sit in a swing and read. I’d never remember what I read. I’d enjoy running my sight over the text. I’d feel as though I were reading secrets so confidential they weren’t supposed to last too long in my mind.

We’d line up to go back to class. We’d glance at the older kids. We’d never be able to place their ages. They’d look back at us with a feeling. They’d never reveal what that feeling was; they’d hold that feeling for the rest of their lives. They’d file back into their classrooms in silence. We’d wonder what they were so quiet for. We’d spend the rest of the day learning arithmetic (“arithmetic”).

We’d count our blocks and draw numbers. We’d debate whether we were to draw or write numbers. We’d debate whether numbers were letters. We’d agree that they weren’t. We’d continue drawing our numbers.

We’d walk home on our own. He’d be at work at this time. We’d watch the older kids congregate at a fence. We’d join them and wait for the beldam. She’d approach her window and holler. She’d holler, shriek, vociferate. She’d pick up a rock out of nowhere—her home? We’d giggle and scatter. We’d forget that rocks can hurt people. I’d wonder if she had a pile of rocks in her bedroom to throw at children. They’d say that witches always hated children.

We’d run back home to play. We’d spot the bull in the yard. They’d dare me to try to ride him. I’d say “You only ride horses.” They’d say “People ride elephants, too.” They’d remind me the bull is friendly. They’d remind me his name is Max, and people named Max are always friendly. I’d think that a bull isn’t people. I’d go up to touch him, anyway.

He’d gaze at me with black eyes. He’d begin to trot towards me in jest. I’d mistake this gesture for brutality. I’d run back towards my party. I’d say “I’ve run with a bull before” at parties. I’d fall and scrape a knee. She’d talk at me while dousing it in carbon peroxide. I’d stay silent the whole time.

We’d come together for dinner. We’d scarf down bleeding oxtail and fried plantains. They’d have dinner with coconut rum. I’d reach for the bottle before my hand is slapped away.

They’d crowd around the TV to watch WWE. I’d rather go to bed, so I do. I’d reach at the pile of thin hardcovers on the floor beside me for The Lorax at the top. It’d fall to the floor, revealing a picture of Mother. I’d stare at the photo. I’d try to remember who she was. I’d shrug off this endeavor for another time. I’d read The Lorax until I fell asleep.


The neck, in my mind is probably the most sensitive part of the human body, it is the passageway for all things vital for life. It is the entrance for food, liquid, and air, in order to nourish our body. It is also a sensual area, any form of touch on the neck can go from affectionate to aggressive in the slightest change of pressure. And whom ever is granted permission to place their hand on an individual’s neck reveals a great sense of trust from the person. But above all it’s where our voices arise from. Our voices that are never taken seriously, voices that are being “silly”, or don’t know any better. Society tends to place individuals in a viscous cycle of self-doubt, regret, and self-hate. The figures within my work is a representation of the agony we are put through everyday as a minority, as when we attempt to distort ourselves to fit into unrealistic standards deemed by the majority.


Hee Jun Ahn is a multidisciplinary artist who draws inspiration from nature, myths and hard times. Her humorous and grotesque approach brings together diverse sources to regenerate a visual language that rebels against injustice while gaining awareness. She is about to finish her BFA in General Fine Arts at Maryland Institute College of Art. She has exhibited in Baltimore, painted murals and engaged in community projects.

“Kind Women”

HeeJun, What interested you into joining ZeroZine?

The subject matter and goals in my practice seemed to align with ZeroZine. I’ve been taking a Transfeminism class- grappling on my identity and what it means to be a woman. I’ve been working a lot with myths because of spiritual aspect but also bigger aspect of materialistic society. My identity as a Korean-Canadian and immigration the process of immigration shed light on what my culture is really about and the myths that surround our culture. Spirituality and flesh is so tied together in Korean culture and history. Like the themes of Sacrificing our body for the collective. Storytelling has such a huge part, bigger than we think.

What draws you to folklore? I am Interested in folklore in general because they are fun but also the Propaganda aspect of folklore instead of spiritual and traditional story. For example Men still justify taking advantage of women by the trope of the this trope of the evil Eve in the bible. People take myth and folklore which influence how people think daily.

Which myths are you influenced by? The point of my work is not to highlight existing myths but create a new from history.. Sometimes I rebel as a poetic gesture and recreate tradition.


I am currently employed at Towson University as an Admissions Counselor. I work primarily with urban youth. I have a M.Ed. in Leadership and am looking forward to attaining a PhD in Community Engagement. I am the CEO of a soon to launch non-profit organization, “The V.I.L.L.A.G.E on the MOVE.� We have a vision that is actively seeking to Impact Lives, Literally, Aggressively, Generationally, and Economically. I am a sought after inspirational and motivational speaker within the Greater Baltimore-Metropolitan area, to encourage and emphasize the importance of college and career readiness and youth development. As an advocate for urban youth, my goal is to help students not just Go through life, but Grow through life. I live to cultivate future leaders and to inspire our youth. of our students. Each one teach one and TOGETHER WE WILL ACHIEVE MORE!


“We have to talk about liberating minds, as well as liberating societies.” -Angela Davis

All my life, I’ve been Trapped. Trapped in a mindset of liberation and confinement, aspiring and desiring to be free.

“To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in rage almost all the time.” -James Baldwin

Trapped in a society where I’ve never been truly accepted, because I refuse to be another indoctrinated citizen. Trapped as a kid with the intellectual knowledge and mind of a man. Trapped as an athlete because of intelligence, strength of personality, and resistance to conformity. Even before having the clear understanding of exploitation through societal entertainment and humor, my spirit was conflicted about an unjust system of oppression that was created to suppress Black culture. Trapped as an adult in a work environment that is threatened by my strength, passion, and desire to make the changes necessary, promoting equity in a public education system that claims to not understand that equity and equality are not one in the same. Trapped as young Black man, a King, in the midst of the societal and cultural double edge sword of mental disability. The Black community’s belief that we are free because of society’s facade that we are not still oppressed. The division, separation, and killing of our culture, while we point the finger at a system that was created to keep us minimalized and dehumanized. The lack luster mindset that we are fighting when really we are struggling and again just like equity and equality, fight and struggle are not the same thing! The lack of legacy left or followed by those that have come before us. The lack of unification amongst our community and those who call themselves leaders. The “American” way of justification for the enslavement of Black people, using the Holy Bible to poison Black people into believing that God’s plan was for us to be enslaved. The “American” way of knowing that this country was built on the backs of slaves but using every dollar they can find to ensure only their history is taught through education. The infinite amount of closet admiration felt for the Black community by liberality that will never be expressed simply because it would never be accepted, because it is not the “American” way.

You see I know this all too well. I have been trapped all my life. Never accepted by us becausewe often do not want to revisit the past to discover the harsh reality of present truth. Never accepted by them because I am a child of God and they feel threatened by the sound of my voice. Trapped in a mind that just wants to be FREE. Trapped in a mind that truthfully and honestly just wants to see inclusion, equity, equality, andFREEDOM. But ultimately, I’m trapped in a mind that just wants to be ME!



Clr’D (pronounced “colored”) is an art collective based in Baltimore, Maryland, that focuses on the People of Color’s experience. Within this group, we create work that not only discuss various issues and struggles someone of color faces in their daily lives, but also focuses on the beauty someone of color holds. Our main goal is to educate and create dialogues among other artists and the community through painting, drawing, sculpture, graphic design, merchandise, photography and more. As a collective, we plan to expand and rise with the Baltimore community by taking our art into action and doing services/projects that will uplift and give back to our neighborhoods. Clr’D is Amani Lewis and Murjoni Merriweather. @weareclrd

Clr’D (Amani Lewis and Murjoni Merriweather)

Amani Lewis

Clr’D (Amani Lewis and Murjoni Merriweather)

Amani Lewis


My work captures the ephemerality of unconscious mind. It’s like I’m digging into the bucket of my head then pulling out the fragments one by one. These chunks are made by controlled and uncontrolled mediums. It’s projected on paper, canvas, or through readymades and mixed media. Using various medium lets my works not to be strangled in one thing, but to have an intuitive work style. My unconscious desire leads me to direct pieces of the image to have an interaction with each other on the picture frame. I enjoy the process of exploring what doesn’t make me completely either this or that, but somewhere in-between. The language is often used in imagery. Exploring middle ground in the different field of art allows me to deal with the direct and allusive message.


Lisa-Qiao MacDonald does not want to talk about institutional ties or professional accomplishments. She identifies as a queer, Asian American, science geek who dabbles in doodling and creative writing. Her favorite poet is nayyirah waheed and her favorite beer is natty boh. Lisa is a proud member of Baltimore Asian Resistance in Solidarity (BARS), Baltimore AAPI Creatives, and Baltimore Jail Support.

a letter for my baby self

amerikkkan flag, “oriental dress,” this is only the beginning, sweet girl. those white boy turds that chase you around the playground chanting “ching chong ding dong,” they will grow into grown white men assholes who exoticize, tokenize, and belittle you. then you’ll return to china searching for belonging, but your westernization and rudimentary mandarin will bleach many of the connections you’re seeking. sweet girl, don’t let this get you down, but your sense of nationality and ethnic belonging will be underwritten as :: too chinese to be amerikkkan and too american to be chinese. please, find power in that isolation and let that power ignite your development of politics and praxis. this struggle is where you will find all of the grounding that you’re searching for. fuck standards of cultural authenticity fuck white supremacy smash the state stay tender & most importantly

love your people.

Why did you submit to zerozine ? Zine culture, especially that which is grounded in the resistance of artists of color is very important to me. As someone who did not go to art school and who works in the science industry (where creativity is not prioritized), zines are a sacred medium. For me, zines are a space where anyone’s contributions are welcome and valued in both a physical and a symbolic sense. The narratives of queer Asian women (and all other non-white, non-middle/upper class people) and our expressions of art/emotion have been erased from the dominant narrative, so allowing myself to produce work for this zine was both a challenge and an indulgence. I’m very thankful for folks like 0zone who create platforms and support networks for our communities to be vulnerable. Warp x Weft No matter how hard one tries to resist (or assimilate) to the stereotypes perpetuated by white supremacy, the “perpetual foreigner” trope is a common thread for Asian America. My piece draws on my experience as a Chinese adoptee raised by a white mother in liberal white suburbia. The tension at the crossroads of “warps” and “wefts” symbolizes my experience of having my access to social and material capital be limited by my degree of assimilation. Larger than that, figuring out how to negotiate the urgency of militant resistance against the reality of our capitalist system is always on my mind. I am terrified for our future, but I also believe in the power of good, and I think the articulation of that tension through art is a vital part of all resistance movements.


Shanti Flagg is an Indian lesbian artist. She grew up in Portland, Maine. She studied studio art at NYU with a concentration in drawing. She received her BFA in 2014. She currently lives in Baltimore and works as the studio manager for The Monument Quilt, a community fibers project by art/activist collaboration FORCE. As an artist, she works primarily in painting, photography, and performance. Her art deals with the physical realities of women and alternative histories/futures.


Shanti, The background on your first piece looks like tiling. What inspirations did you draw from? I used Islamic tiling patterns as reference for that painting. I’ve always been really into geometric patterns, small details, and repetition. I like to place my figures in locations that are very specific even though it’s impossible to tell where (or when) exactly they are. It makes their world real. My personal heritage is not Islamic, but as a South Asian, Islamic artwork and architecture are important influences for me. The second background is very space and futuristic. How do the backgrounds interact with the subjects? Backgrounds for me are what make the pieces immersive. I do some large paintings, but most of mine are pretty small. Making a piece very large is one way to make it immersive. The other is to pull the viewer into the very small world you create. That’s what I try to do with my backgrounds. What does futurism have to do with queerness to you? In my personal life I relate more to lesbianism than queerness, because queerness to me is vague. Being solidly rooted in being a lesbian and having always been a lesbian, rather than having a fluidly queer sexuality, has been important to my health. My figures have the same roots in creating lesbianism as the future. It’s sometimes really hard for me to believe lesbianism, love, or my actual self are real, rather than just delusions I created to make my own life difficult. In the future, lesbians won’t be pushed to chronically question ourselves, think of ourselves as difficult, or push our boundaries for the comfort of others. The future where this could be true hasn’t even begun to be created.

“Creation of Water”

Artist Statement In my paintings I depict alternate realities of women that exist outside of time. In these worlds, brown women’s love can’t be stifled by misogyny and racism. What did, will, or could exist if we were free? The truths of our bodies are what keep us in tune with that freedom.


Sean is a Filipinx-American student from South Carolina. He studies Neuroscience at Johns Hopkins. He has been practicing photography for a year and particularly likes explorations of Westernization and Religion in 20th century Japanese photography. He tries to incorporate photography into mindfulness and vipassana meditation practices.

Jennifer is a Korean-American student double majoring in English and Political Science at the Johns Hopkins University. She spends the majority of her time writing, keeping up with the music scene, savoring food, or googling over photo books she can never afford. Along with her studies, Jennifer is a freelance photographer concentrating on portraiture and fine art photography. Some of her favorite photographers are Tamara Lichtenstein, Ren Hang, Hasisi Park, and Zhang Jingna. You can check out more of her work at

An embrace is raw expression. It can also exacerbate feelings of separation from others. This project examines intimacy. Flash and mirrors were used to compress or decompress the space between the characters. Their distance is emphasized by the same arrangements that bring them close. Attachment and aversion are sometimes said to be two sides of a single coin. Objects of attachment are craved and not having – or losing – them is unsatisfying. Interpersonal relationships are no exception. Toward all the people I know I might crave who they are, or who they were, or who I want them to become. On the other side is my ego – not strictly in the sense of pride, but just some self-image fundamentally separated from the world around it. I can crave some version of myself as others see me and suffer when this image comes into doubt. And there are all the parts of me I hate, or that others hate in me. To many Buddhists, attachment and ego are the roots of much of the suffering in the world. The use of mirrors shows the complexity of these fractured identities. One gets a sense of both the model and the model’s reflection, facing both the other and oneself. She can be far from the other while her reflection sits in another’s lap. Longing and loneliness go hand in hand. The mirrors exaggerate the dualistic separation of self from other.

Sean Laxama Thompson

Intimacy, sensuality, and aesthetics are inevitably, and invariably intertwined. In my work, I often try to capture moments when these three converge. Physical intimacy, aggressive stylization, and an almost sensual softness are questions that I kept in mind while taking and composing these images. Flash photography was opted for over more natural lighting to flatten the images in a harsh matter, emphasizing space as a whole and giving the images a grittier and more honest feel. Mirrors and reflections were used to show varying and complex ideas about identity while continuing to maintain an aesthetic that ties together all the images in the series. Although my approach to this project lacked a specific intention, there was something extremely beautiful about minimally curated models against a loud pattern, and the use of reflection and focus on differing body areas truly elevated the intimacy between the models and photographers in a palpable and visceral way that is not sexual. Closeness, I think, is often feared both physically and emotionally because of complex other emotions that we are conditioned to separate. Yet life is subtle and so incredibly sensory that it is almost degrading to only pick one aspect out of the many that will inevitably mix. For me, this series is a reflection of this, and I tried to capture these complex feelings in very simple images.

Jennifer Baik


Zack Parker is an Asian-American artist currently attending the Maryland Institute College of Art (BFA candidate MICA ‘19). Focusing primarily in non-representative painting, Zack’s work deals in a wide variety of issues from disassociation and systematic processes, to identity politics and relational powers. The different ways in which these concerns may become visual manifestations, problems embedded into the historical language of painting, and the many different directions of 21st century painters, are just a few pointsof departure in upcoming works of the artist.

“In this ongoing series of process driven works, I am attempting to analyze social boundaries and explore the different forms that they present themselves in. How do such boundaries define an individual? How does an individual affect these boundaries? I believe that by paying attention to this relationship between the individual and their surroundings, I may gain a sort of insight on the behavior of the sole individual and how this impacts society as a whole.�


Before moving to Baltimore, I grew up in a suburb outside of Dallas, TX among a family of immigrants and refugees. While my parents worked long hours, I was raised on PBS, Neopets and reality TV shows to which I can still link most of my interests. It wasn’t until leaving home that I began to celebrate the deep imprints my parents and their culture have left on me. I realized that I had always been halfway between two disjointed cultures; both of which I didn’t quite understand. This confusion, sprouted from the influence of two monoliths in my life, is something subtly pervasive, and I like to depict it that way. My identity isn’t a topic or a concept, but the underlying heartbeat behind everything I make.

SPAM is a mainstay in my family’s pantry as it is in many Asian-American households, a connection that I long attributed to economic struggle. My father tells a riveting story about leaving China on foot with nothing but a backpack full of SPAM, and in one of his most fanciful retellings, he claims that it was with this bag of SPAM that he cured his sister of malaria before being relocated to the US. Conceived as a military supply food, SPAM was distributed internationally first by US troops during World War II to locals who regarded these rations as a delicacy of the West, becoming symbolic of “freedom through democracy.” There’s a peculiar popularity of this canned meat in areas historically afflicted by wars involving the US from the second World War and on. I liken SPAM to the empty promise that is the American Dream. Labeled with dates correlating with bombs dropped by the US since the invention of SPAM, an army of porcelain cans remember an ironic tale of curious delicacies and military might. (Dates derived from THOR: Theater History of Operations Report)


Sreyashi Tinni Bhattacharyya is a young Indian artist, writer, and curator who is currently living and working in Baltimore, MD. Born in New Delhi, Tinni grew up as a bit of a nomad, moving every three (sometimes two) years to a new country and a new home. This experience has shaped a lot of her work, as she enjoys exploring the processes behind the development of ones’ identity and the conceptualization of varying perspectives and histories. She recently completed her BA from Oberlin College, where she double majored in Art History and Visual Arts with a concentration in Neuroscience and Biology. During her undergraduate studies, Tinni held positions at the LeRoy Neiman Center for Print Studies at Columbia University, the Archeological Survey of India in New Delhi, the National Museum of India in New Delhi, the Allen Memorial Art Museum at Oberlin College, and the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice. She has a background in sexual health education and violence prevention, having worked as a Counselor and Educator at the Sexual Information Center and an HIV Peer Tester in Oberlin, OH. Her studio practice lies at the intersection of her art historical, scientific, and political research as she addresses themes of womanhood, heritage, power, and control. Tinni Bhattacharyya is invested in non-traditional art spaces and accessible, intersectional, and community-oriented curatorial practices. She co-founded, safe+sound, an annual collaborative multimedia installation that served as a monument to the impact of sexualized violence in the communities of Oberlin, OH. Additionally, she independently curated (Anti)Corporeality: Reclaiming and Re-presenting the Black Body at the Allen Memorial Art Museum in Fall 2016. She engages with both non-traditional creative spaces and established art institutions in a desperate desire to recentralize the voices of those of us who have been historically and institutionally pushed to the margins, and to infiltrate traditional art institutions and increase the visibility of our sometimes shared, often disparate experiences. Tinni is currently working as the Exhibition Project Manager for the artist David Hess, collaborating as an artist in FORCE: Upsetting Rape Culture’s Gather Together Collective, and working as the AAAPI Curatorial Intern at the Baltimore Museum of Art.

sreyashi tinni bhattacharyya

What sparked your interest in ZeroZine? I thought that my resistance to the colonization of objects of my homel and assignment to create objects, artifacts, and contextual history was s WarpXWeft theme.

What are these objects inspired by? Figures are inspired by Venus figurines— what they are are ures that tend to have feminine features like big hips and big breasts and connected to they are found in houses. I am interested how tility, caregiving and protecting the household in which i which is interesting because when we think of deities, w urines are below us. It makes us think about how we treat wonderful and voluptuous they are but in reality we treat them how I am walking over women who are supposed to watch over us tion when you think about ideas of reverence. Why do you use clay, metal, paper? I use those materials because I like to return to different Indian craft tural practice called madhubani paper mache made out of hand intense and tactile. You use newspaper. bentonite clay. It is very in historical labor practices that have been part of my com-


land and subject matter of my prac tice suitable for he world making element to

e fig-

ideas of fertility. In India, these figures represent motherhood, ferit is engrained in. They are buried underground we think of figures above us but these venus figt women, who we give so much reverence, how m like dirt. It was a strange form of reverence, and give us protection. It is a strong contradic-

practices. This is a type of sculppulped paper, which is very important for me to be involved munity.




Ever since I was young, I have always had a passion for creating black art because I was creating people that looked like me, which made me feel great. Ceramics was something I took up in Highschool and fell in love with it since. My obsession with natural hair started during this time, which I took with me when I graduated The Field School in Washington, DC in 2014 .Now, as a Junior Double major in Ceramics and Film/Video at the Maryland Institute College of Art, I feel like I have so much more to say and do with my work. As a member of both Clr’D Collective and LastNiight Creative Collective, I strive to send messages about POC Communities through my art.

As a black female artist, I make work based around social issues about People of Color (POC), whether it deal with self love and appreciation or social issues in our communities. Many of my pieces are based on stories and experiences and feelings of other people as well as myself. With those stories, I try to make those experiences relatable in an a way that educate other groups on Subjects in the black community. For years, people of color have been disrespected because they do not naturally fit the Eurocentric standards of society (long hair, skinny, light skin). Overall, I need people to understand that members of the POC Community are beautiful they way they were naturally born, so I try to celebrate that from Hair appreciation, to skin appreciation, to body appreciation, etc. I want to show my brothers and sisters that they deserve to love themselves for them.

We want to thank all participating artists, collaborators, encouraging and supportive friends who made this publication possible. Kimi Hanauer of PressPress Baltimore AAPI Creatives Stephen Towns The Y.L.HOI Memorial Award from Maryland Institute College of Art From 0ZONE with love, April 2017

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