Collective | Issue 4.0 | Healing by Collective

Cover Art: Painting With Light (2020) by Frances Sandoval Lauck [@shot.by.fran]

Double High (2020)

EDITOR’S NOTE Well, hello. It’s been quite a while since the last time we’ve spoken. Holy shit — how times have changed, lives have been lost, and the future feels like it’s fading. As I write, I’m looking out my window watching people pass by. Streets are empty, and so are most of our hearts. Reality shifted in a way we could have never imagined. As a 2020 high school graduate, I feel defeated. But that’s not the worst this pandemic has brought on our world. Though the theme of this issue, Healing, was introduced before COVID-19, it reflects a new level of importance now. We are all healing, with no choice but to do just that. We are all down, each day just trying to put one foot in front of the other. As I write, I feel anxious, not knowing how I should feel. But that’s okay. Every day passes, and on to the next. The days blend, a lot faster than usual. And though I sit sad, sit lonely, sit scared of the unknown future, I also sit grateful for the privilege I hold in this world. I’m holding on to my hope that our world will heal together because it’s not enough for me to just sit in my privilege. As I write, I ask myself: What does healing mean to me? Bring justice to our communities. Feed the poor. Tear down the oppressive systems. AMEND. Fuck my privilege until our country, our world… is equal. I know for me, I’m getting better at healing. Having control on how I pull myself together is something I didn’t really have before. I held on to pain for dear life. I guess I never let go because the pain seemed so relevant. I forgot that there was still a life to live. Healing helps me continue to live my life to the fullest. Ignoring my pain just gave me a reason to be angry. I think it’s important to feel, but letting yourself heal makes it less painful. Healing is the old turning new. And we always take the old for granted. As I write, I hope you are healing. Everyone deserves peace, and though there are pieces of our world, institutions, homes, and hearts that are scattered, we will become whole again. We will heal. As I write, I thank you for reading. Your time, like always, means the world. Collective is growing, and I am forever grateful. A part of healing is changing, and the Collective is in a state of constant evolution. So stay tuned for more. Until next time, Aviva @avivaaaaviva

Today, is a day I’ll remember. As humans, we’re always healing. We are forced to adapt to the things that scare us, but it’s who we are. Today, I live knowing there are thousands of humans who are in deep healing. So many healers and strangers who live to save lives. Today, we share this battle of healing. Today we say thank you. Today I will never forget. Tomorrow Aviva Pusey | @avivaaaaviva | Brookyn, NY

Madeleine Miller | @g0ldfisher | Brooklyn, NY

Saskia Lethin | @saskiasph0tos | Manhattan, NY

Yazmine Graham | @thejerseyslice | Newark, NJ

Lexi Hynes | @gymlex | Brooklyn, NY

Lydia Ramos | @lydiyeahhh | Grand Rapids, MI

Mia Schoolman | @miaschoolman | Stony Brook, NY

Yazmine Graham | @thejerseyslice | Newark, NJ

Mia Schoolman | @miaschoolman | Stony Brook, NY

Em Higgins | @yobabyem | Manhattan, NY

Klaudia Poplawski | @klaudiapop04 | Shelton, CT

Ian Archibald | @ja_tack_illustrations | Brooklyn, NY

Marc Ella Roy | @cramvisualz | Manhattan, NY

Lydia Ramos | @lydiyeahhh | Grand Rapids, MI

NK Richter | @nkrchtr | Brooklyn, NY

Emily Hueser | @emilyhueserphotography | Bettendorf, IA

â&#x20AC;&#x153;...allow yourself to feel pain in order to move on...â&#x20AC;?

Aviva Pusey | @avivaaaaviva | Brookyn, NY

Faith Montagnino | @femtakesphotos | Morganville, NJ

renaissance you are real. this is real. i remind myself that. again and again and again. and i lay in bed at night, remember that i’ve felt the exact same way before– i’ve felt my heart beating so fast it feels like it will escape, along with the words on the tip of my tongue. i’ve felt myself blush as i go over plain words in my head. i’ve felt this wide-eyed wonder, when everything feels magical and heavenly, and when i look into the mirror, there’s a golden halo hanging over my head. yes, i’ve felt it all before– but each time, it feels just as new. renaissance. and i will fall out of love with you one morning in the month of may. i won’t lull myself to sleep by imagining your lips on mine anymore. my heart won’t pound every time i hear someone say your name. but old habits die hard: i won’t stop checking your horoscope until months later, and i will think of your favourite powdered donuts every time i’m choosing a dessert, and write you another song, even. and then– then, i’ll meet her. she is beautiful and perfect and laughs at my jokes and i blush as i sit in the backseat of the car. and i remind myself that i’ve felt this before but that doesn’t make it any less real. because she is real. this is real. at least, for now. and i’ll probably fall out of love with her on a rainy night when i’m shivering alone in my dark room, or on a sunny day out in a new city with new people. but right now, that doesn’t seem like a possibility. so why bother with worrying? why bother at all? here i am, on the edge of something beautiful. something right, something real. and here i take a leap of faith: here, i let myself fall headfirst. because for now, it’s all real. she is real. this is real. Saachi Gupta | @saachisassified | Mumbai, India

Why Did You Rape Me? “I was raped, I was raped, I was raped, I was raped, I was raped,” I say over and over and over, my knees to my chest, my whole body convulsing with fear. All he knows what to do is to wrap his arms around me, embrace my frail body in his secure arms. I let him, I fall into him, crying, tears spilling over and over. “I’m..so sorry, I didn’t mean—,” I say, in between sobs, the words hardly forming. “Don’t apologize, please, please please, don’t apologize to me.” His soft hands caress my hair, as he holds me as if I am a baby, consoling me. I stay like this for what seems to be hours, feeling safe and a tinge of warmth after three horrid days of stagnant darkness. Finally, I sit up straight on my bed, wipe my tears on the puffed white duvet, and tie my hair in a low bun. I see the center of the duvet, stained with my tears. He sits close to me, putting one arm over my shoulder and holding my hand, gently rubbing his thumb in sweet circular motions around the center of my palm. We sit in silence. Deafening and stiff silence. I later learned that immediately after the incident, Jade recognized what the anguish was doing to her, making her become a shell of herself, went to therapy, went to a center for rape survivors, got the help she needed and was recovering. Meanwhile, I couldn’t sleep in my room alone, the white walls would turn as black as coal. I would have nightmare

after nightmare after nightmare about the charcoal-like paint, how it would seemingly drip down from the walls, onto the crisp bed, slither drip by drip into the pores in my skin and live in me. This black substance would permeate my soul, crawl into my heart and reside there, leaving my soul an increment sickly hue of gray. It took me four extensive, gruesome, horrid months for me to actually pay for one therapy session and sit in that cramped room, white-tiled, bright blinding lights, and encouraging messages on the wall that read “You CAN do it!,” “Breathe,” in a beige polyester armchair, sat across from a woman with stiff posture and roundrimmed glasses. My arms and legs crossed tightly, not allowing her to see through my insecure, feeble, rigid body. I thought the hysteria and paranoia would vanish on its own, like the stitches you get when you go for a bitter morning run. Yes, it helped, and it helped the more I attended it, but I knew that there would always be a gaping hole, I would never feel safe in my own skin again, and the prospect of leaving Alex’s side whilst walking out at night terrified me to the core of my very being. I sometimes wonder why he has stuck by me through all these years. The screaming, uncontrollable crying, the slamming doors. He told me “Because you are you, you are you, you are you.” As for mine and Jade’s friendship, we

Besmira Rraci | @goondoods | Bronx, NY

never left one anotherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s side. In our own battles with physical and mental recovery, even though we were not always present in the exact moment, we knew that we would forever be connected. We have gone to group therapy sessions, to sessions specific for cases that deal with assault. We have cried together, her tears everflowing when I told her the grim details of the rape, showed her the off-colored bruises that still havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t faded. I cried in her arms, she in mine. I am a rape survivor, and I will always be a rape survivor. It has created another side of me, more empathetic, more compassionate, stronger, physically and mentally. Jade is a rape survivor. Your neighbor is a rape survivor, your secretary, your teacher, your university professor, your aunt, your mom, there are rape survivors all around. We live with it every day. The burden, the guilt, the shame, the depression, the anxiety the paranoia, but we keep going. We keep walking, we keep trudging through the thick, brown, quick-sand, nearly sinking, our tired, swollen, feet almost giving out from under us, but we help each other up, pull one another out from the gray abyss of a hot, choking haze, and will continue to do so, until every last soul that has been hurt, battered and blemished is drawn out from under that opaque, scorching teary-eyed fog and brought into the heavenly, blissful light that cakes their faces, bodies, and flows into their limbs, souls, and lives within them.Â

Michellie Reis | @michelliereis | Bangkok, Thailand

They always say your first heartbreak is always the worst, the crumbling feeling of a dreadful text “we need to talk” the calm before the storm knowing that the person you called home was no longer yours. Showers so cold your skin crawled, putting away everything that reminded you of her, lots of empty nights with silent crying the whatif scenarios playing through your head “what if I stayed”, “what if she had moved back in time”, “what if I had just come out” these thoughts will be burnt into the back of your mind and will scab over and leave a scar so deep. Every day after the breakup your body will feel heavy and your mind will be full of racing thoughts that you cannot escape no matter how hard you try to distract yourself with a video game or music everything will remind you of her and the feeling it leaves you with will make you wanna peel your skin off and curl up in your mother’s arms. Some days are better than the others and others worst than yesterday healing is a painful process nonetheless and one day in 2nd-period algebra in late September your world comes crashing down on you and you wish you could run back to your home, and more than ever you’ll miss how she made you feel in July. Angela-Lazinda | @volitaaa | Santa Clara, CA

Zoe Steinberg | @industrial_bodies | Brooklyn, NY

HEALING:

starting from scratch without starting from scratch.

We never know, what will happen next. We never know, if we’ll still be here tomorrow. We never know, if they will be here tomorrow. We never know how we feel about something, until we feel it. It’s as if you’re in the middle of reading your favourite book. Every page consumes you, but in order to read on you have to turn the page you’ve just read, to reveal what happens next most of the time, we turn the page mindlessly: one motion, to keep the story in motion. We’re writing in our journal, and when one page is full we have to turn it; we cannot rewrite the page we have written on. Every single day in life, is like a page too. And every 24 hours, a new page is revealed. Eventually, without meaning to and without expecting it, we cut our finger as we turn the page. There’s that sound, the feeling of slow motion; we see it’s happening, can’t stop it; it is but a split second and then all we can do, is look at the damage. Our finger has been cut; we’re hurt.

- The Disaster Unfolds -

The disaster is going to be different each time. Sometimes, the red spills fast, drops onto the page where it leaves a mark. Other times, it takes a moment or two to become visible even though we can already feel the cut: the damage. The cure? The only cure? Time. For we cannot dictate our skin to heal, cannot tell the cut to disappear. But what we can do, is patch it up: protect it from anything which threatens to infect it or tear it open again. Often times, a wound will heal without giving it a second thought; eventually we will forget it has ever been there…but there’s also the ones who sting with every movement, who take ahold of our every thought. A gentle reminder of the fact that we’ve been hurt, we are hurt, we are hurting. A reminder which evokes desperation in us to heal - but leaves us feeling hopeless, as days and weeks drag on and we still feel the sting. Maybe it has faded into a subtle feeling, maybe it began to consume us as we let ourselves fall into it; for moving forward; climbing up felt impossible. And we longed for movement; any kind of movement, even when it was falling. At least, we’re not stuck anymore, right? Falling means crashing. Breaking into pieces while still being one. “One” - the hurt belongs to us, just as our body and soul does. However, is it breaking us or reshaping us? It wants us to start from scratch without starting from scratch. Feel the hurt, acknowledge it but keep moving, whispers time. Let it go and take the lessons, whispers the ache.

Zoe Steinberg | @industrial_bodies | Brooklyn, NY

Reinvent yourself, whispers the hope. Start again without a blank page; instead you’ve got an outline of experiences, an outline of situations to avoid or how to handle them in a chapter before you turn the page and begin a new one. Hurting and healing fuels our intuition, fuels us to become better. Even when the latter might feel out of reach, as ‘healing’ seems to be. But just as our skin heals, we heal too. We only prevent it from healing when we pick at the wound, tear it open again, put it in places where we risk infections - we could be reaching for sugar, only to find it’s salt, and we only find out when our cut skin has reached it and it burns and stings and we made a mess when all we’ve had to do is protect it, keep it away from these places. And this kind of salt can have many shapes and forms; such as liquor with a high percentage, drugs which numb us, people we know are not good to us; the ones we come back to, because we do not believe to deserve better. Sometimes it is not as much about finding a ‘cure’ as it is in protecting yourself and setting new boundaries. Learning that people we thought meant us good, kept us down and lied to us. Learned no job or money is worth bending ourselves for. Learned that lovers, can be devoid of love. Learned that adrenaline and action do not equal happiness; learned that inner peace and all we need is right there, within us. We’re living with an ache but we’re living. And the ache fades by making sure we protect it and care for us in any possible way; even if its as small as enjoying a hot cup of tea, a bubble bath, a healthy meal, soothing music as we do nothing but listen to it, turning off our phone for an hour or two, picking up a book, picking up a hobby we’ve long forgotten about, making art for the sake of making art and not for it to be or look a certain way; simply creating for ourselves, or spending time with our loved ones, even if we can’t get ourselves to laugh or talk a lot, even when we sit in a corner observing: their presence alone can make us feel good; give us glimpses of life we’re slowly but steadily returning to in our own time and pace. Healing does not require an apology from the ones who hurt us. It does not need paragraphs of explanations either, it does not need an instant cure or a dictating voice telling us to move on. Hurting is a promise of healing; when one happens, the other isn’t far. Just as it is with high’s and low’s; if we rise, we’ll fall again. Vice versa. So all there is, is to take care of ourselves in every single moment. And when we’re breaking, we’ve got to allow ourselves to break down, cry, live the hurt out just as we would live out the happiness of good news. It’s merely another emotion demanding to be felt, not be bottled up or avoided only for it to chase us. When it feels as though we, and everything we thought to know has been stripped from us and we’re left with nothing but that one feeling of hurt: We get to start from scratch, without starting from scratch: we exist, everything we knew feels as tough it has been taken from us, so we begin to rediscover the ordinary. We begin to find happiness; and even if not happiness, we’ll find comfort in peace; such as sitting in nature, cleaning our room, preparing food; Things we had done mindlessly before, even taken for granted, sooth us. We learn to focus inward; slowly beginning to retrace the steps of who we used to be, and letting the traits and thoughts, and people we do not associate with ourselves anymore pass on like clouds, in order to make space for the person we want to be. I say like clouds; for we know they’re there but they do not

Zoe Steinberg | @industrial_bodies | Brooklyn, NY

affect us. The reinventing begins, when we protect ourselves and set boundaries which do not allow people to use us or do with us as they please. We’ve got to learn that we deserve to be loved, and that we are allowed to love ourselves and that ‘i love you’ does not loose it’s meaning when it’s said with tears in our eyes, or written in messy handwriting. You are loved, and you deserve to be loved respectfully. And one day…as you’re healing you begin to dream again, of places and people you’d like to experience. Of careers and of adventures you want to explore; knowing you deserve to, and you deserve it and get to do it with your new boundaries and a new sense of appreciation for life and gratitude for the smallest of things, which most do not even pay attention to. Whatever happened to you, whoever hurt you; the injustice, the aching, the hurting: you deserve non of it, and yet sometimes it finds it’s way into our life through situations and people for us to, ironically, stop belittling ourselves; to step into our power and learn how strong we are. Whatever happened to you, whoever hurt you: You will heal. You will find, that you’ve grown from it all, That you deserve better, and not to become bitter over it. You become an inspiration for others, a light and warmth for those in the cold; for you would not want anyone to go through what you had to when you were hurting. Our compassion grows. And those people who hurt you, who harmed you: leave them behind; leave it to their concessions to make them realises they’ve hurt someone. Hurting and healing is far more gentle, than carrying guilt around. And most of the time, it will seem as tough they might never be aware of what they’ve done or they simply do not care: but that’s the thing with guilt, one day it’s going to wake them up in the middle of the night when you’ve long moved on. Guilt is a shadow, catching up in time. But that’s their burden to carry, not yours. Forgive them, forgive yourself. Just know doing others wrong, always has a bill to be paid at some point. Maybe not immediately after, but it’s going to catch up to them. So, forgive and do good wherever you go, do not begin to act out of bitterness or revenge; act out of love, always. Forgive them but keep them out of your life. One thing I’ve learned the hard way: if someone crossed a line once, they won’t be afraid to do it again when temptation calls. Simply wish them well, let them be indifferent to you, as you water your garden which you’ve grown from the dirt they left you in, and enjoy it all blossom around you but do not open the gate for them. Hurting and healing; I know it’s not easy to hear, but with time, we will find we’ve grown from it and became stronger. We are able to connect better with people, who have felt similar pain, we get to uplift each other even more for our compassion has grown too, we get to see beauty and appreciate the small things, we get to feel gratitude for the ordinary and for the quiet and the unspectacular. You learn to enjoy sunshine differently, the cool breeze and the stillness will give you bliss; and know, there will be another storm, but this time you’ll be more prepared. And then, it all begins again. Starting from scratch without starting from scratch. ---

Veronika Foer | @veronikafoer | Cologne, Germany

Lydia Ramos | @lydiyeahhh | Grand Rapids, MI

Coherent Reconcile with my natural conscious Feasible for instinctive observations For a few consistencies I am grateful. The pine tree, before the front door, grows stronger each year. I oscillate on my favorite rope swing, made in Twin Oaks, Virginia. The singular crab apple tree is less prolific each summer, though I adore unripe fruit. I forage the back fields for woodland wild strawberries, as I walk to the swimming hole. Splash! Into the fresh, muddy, shallow water, my friends and I dig away to clear the stream for new passage. Giggling, singing, and skipping on moist moss, to the smokey fire we smell and know will keep us warm. Curious when the next torrential downfall will take place. My reflexes await to discard the next mosquito to attempt feasting on my sweet blood. A feasible parasite at glance, I am just a host to a thick or lean tick. I would observe Athens kids, as they aâ&#x20AC;&#x2039; nthropomorphized each bird. Rutted gravel roads, leading to a majestic waterfall, the black hole. Crickets chirp, phonotactic response. Chickadees call, habitually unpredictable. No implementation No hesitation The rhythm in the breeze, scent of pine trees, and the tinkling of wind chimes, Restore my mind from the blaring city occurrences that I hear year round.

Ada Steinberg | @66lives | Brooklyn, NY

Ryan Courtier | @ryancourtier_artist | Suffolk, England

February

I’m an atheist. I don’t believe there is a higher being controlling us; I don’t believe everything happens for a reason; I don’t believe you go anywhere after you die. The world is how it is, there’s nothing beyond this. In February of 2019 these opinions were reinforced. The world confirmed that no, everything doesn’t happen for a reason; that no, nobody is making these decisions for us. Shit happens. In February of 2019 she jumped off her balcony. That was it. Few hours earlier she was there and then she just wasn’t. This didn’t happen because God was trying to punish her. This didn’t happen because “everything happens for a reason”. It just happened. After that I really understood why people wanted there to be an afterlife. It just didn’t seem fair that someone so wonderful was just gone, she had nowhere left to go. Who knows, maybe there is an afterlife, and maybe she’s there. I wouldn’t be angry about that, I wish that were true, I so badly wish that were true; but I know it’s not. After that I really struggled with knowing how to act. The knowledge that this happened stayed in the back of my mind always, but I still went about normal life. I did this both because I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, I wanted to make sure they were happy, and I didn’t want to add on to their problems. But also because I just didn’t know what to do. I was hurt, but I didn’t know how to show that, I didn’t know if I should. I thought about her everyday for months after but never talked about her. Even before this happened I wasn’t in touch with that side of myself. Everything had to be happy all the time. I just want everyone around me to be happy and I felt the best way to do that was to put out positivity always. I still believe that sending positivity and optimism out into the world helps people step out of their negativity, but that positivity and optimism can’t be fake. I don’t think I ever realized it was. I struggled with how to grieve the “right” way. Every time I would let myself feel something about it I would just think about how much other people have gone through; how this was nothing compared to some people’s lives; how I am so lucky to have the life I have. This stopped me from healing. I’ve come to realize that being thankful doesn’t have to come with guilt. I am so grateful for everything I have, every opportunity I’ve been given, every day I spend inside in my home; but this doesn’t mean I should ignore what happened. She deserves to be grieved. She deserves to be remembered. She deserves to be loved even from beyond this life. This past year I’ve learned to heal. I hate that it took something so horrible to wake me up and make me more in touch with myself. I in no way “know who I am” but I think this gave me a blank slate. I have to start to find the part of myself that for so long I ignored. Sadness and negativity is a part of me and I have to accept that in order to heal. I am still healing. I will always be healing from this, grief doesn’t just “get better”. Slowly you are able to go back to normal life. Slowly the hurt doesn’t fill your thoughts. But that doesn’t mean it never will again. That pain will always stay with you, you just have to come to accept it, be ready for it. I love her, I always will, and I will continue to grieve and heal for the rest of my life. Coral Dawley | @plantcoral | Brooklyn, NY

Caroline MacIntosh | @cannemac | Brooklyn, NY

Seeing Myself A series of self portraits and reflections. Sharing who you know you are for others to see. Sometimes we need to take the time to love ourselves before healing. Challenging the expectations placed on us, and creating out own. -Find more of this series @ www. collective.casa

Photography by Isabella Thiele

Originally based out of Richmond, VA, Renaissance Woman is an alternative artist who utilizes and mixes several genres, including dream pop, hip hop, folk, classical and rock. Piano is the focal instrument of her tracks, mixed with sweet vocals. @_renaissance.woman

Madeleine Miller - a constant creator.

Brooklyn, NY

“

Creating is my way of healing.

Whether I’m making a piece that directly focuses on what I’m going through in my personal life, or simply creating something just because. I spend hours at a time

making making making.

In the past few years I’ve discovered my passion for jewelry making. For my 15th birthday, I got a 3D doodler (kids 3D pen, and started using it to make earrings. When the pen broke I transitioned to using wire as my material. But why stop at just wire?

I started making more earrings with wire and beads that I found in my house. I use all different types of materials when creating my earrings. At the end of a long day of making earrings, my fingers and hands are cut up and a different color from working with the wire. My fingers are calloused from guitar playing and jewelry making. And it goes to show, because I love working with my hands, no matter what I’m doing. When I’m making art I’m able to let go of my thoughts. I’m not distracted by any drama or world problems, all I’m focusing on is my hands and what they’re creating.

I find creativity to be a form of meditation. I’m able to let go and put everything into my art and let my hands lead the way.

”

Madeleine.m718@gmail.com

www.madeleinemiller.art

BEADED EARINGS:

These are my most traditional style of earrings with materials consisting of wire and beads.

PIANO HAMMER EARINGS:

CORK EARINGS:

These earrings are made from wine bottle corks. Some pairs have designs carved into them, and others are painted.

These materials were found inside of a piano! The hammers are what hit the strings, creating the sound of each key. There was an old piano on the street. My music teacher had shown me keychains that she had made from piano hammers, so I took some time to see what project I could us them for.

To purchases & see more go to:

www.madeleinemiller.art Madeleine.m718@gmail.com

1. WHAT’S YOUR NAME? HOW OLD ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU FROM? WHAT’S YOUR BACKGROUND? Well, hello! My name is Fatima Dizon! I am 21 years old, from Harlem, New York. I would say I am a lot of things. I am an herbalist, a massage therapist in training. I am an artist, I am an activist. I do a lot of work centered around the inner child, which I also see as my own personal work. But I also work to create spaces for others to do work around the inner child by confronting a lot of childhood trauma and seeing how it shows up in our present lives. I aim to teach how we all can heal and uplift the relationship we have with ourselves and those around us, by healing those childhood traumas. In all the activist healing work that I do, the inner child always comes up. I’m a deep advocate for the earth as well.

2. LOOKING FROM THE OUTSIDE IN, WHAT IS ONE THING YOU WANT OTHERS TO KNOW ABOUT YOU? That I am more sensitive than I may seem. I am in the process of opening up, I have the desire to. Sometimes I might not be the most friendly, or I might be standoffish. But it has nothing to do with the people around me, but more to do with my personal relationship with intimacy.

3. CAN YOU TALK A LITTLE BIT ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCES THROUGHOUT HIGHSCHOOL YEARS AND HOW YOU FEEL YOU HAVE EVOLVED SINCE THEN? My high school years were very hard. Very dark. The biggest way I feel I have evolved is the way that I respond to my feelings of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. In the present moment, I respond to those emotions from a place of compassion and patience. After doing years of work to build my selfawareness, I’m finally able to now act instinctively. In high school, if I was angry, boom, a big fight would happen with anyone I was around... I left holes in the walls, I would hurt myself, I would go deep into my pain. My self talk was very negative. The way I spoke to myself was the main thing I had to heal. And what I had to build control over. Because the way that I talk to myself is going to impact the way that I feel about my life and my reality. So now, being 21 years old the hate is still there, the trauma is still there. But the way that I respond to it is so different. Since I’m dedicated to loving my life, being in a space of peace, and having the deep desire to offer that peace to others. I feel a huge responsibility to heal. And that starts for me with positive talk. So whenever I do feel upset, I just talk to myself as if I was talking to my sister, or others I care about. Instead of being mean, and self punishing. I don’t do that to myself anymore, that part of me has evolved.

4. CAN YOU TALK ABOUT SOME OF THE PROJECTS YOU’VE WORKED ON OVER THE PAST FEW YEARS? HOW DID THEY COME ABOUT? WHAT/WHO INSPIRED THEM? To begin, I founded the Harlem Lighthouse. I created it in my last year of high school. Around this time I didn’t know if I was going to graduate; I was really depressed and angry at the world. This was also the time when I was beginning to practice and learn more about activism. I joined this collective called Youth Activist Youth Allies, where I learned a lot of different terms… like what oppression is, what white supremacy is, and what antiblackness is. We started organizing marches and other activities. As this was happening [trigger warning], my friend passed away. Her name was

Maylin Reynoso -

It fucking sucked, hardcore. I was so angry and everyone around me was super angry. I felt like, “I need to do something.” I didn’t want to just sit around. We were all just scared, depressed, angry and alone. I didn’t want us to feel alone in this. I later had the opportunity to attend an internship called Dear America. All of the pain and grief I felt, lit an intense fire in me. I put it into a response through this internship. That was how Harlem Lighthouse was created. The idea was to create a space for people of color to process their emotion, specifically their grief and trauma. But also to learn skills to better respond to those experiences, and most of all to not feel alone. That’s a shitty ass feeling, to experience something traumatic but then also feel alone in that trauma. I don’t want us to feel that way.

5. WHEN DID YOU START TO EXPLORE YOUR SPIRITUALITY? WHAT INTRODUCED IT INTO YOUR LIFE? So I’ve always been a spiritual person, since I came out of the womb. I grew up in a very strict Islamic household. I was praying five times a day, I was memorizing the Quran, studying Islam everyday for hours. I have a very complicated relationship with Islam, but I was always praying to God. I remember I would have this one prayer, every night, and I would ask for superpowers! I was always interested in magic, and I was intrigued by plants. I have witches in my family and whenever they would show me things I would be like “Magic exist? This is so cool!” It all made sense. Then came middle school and high school, when I became depressed, and I pushed away God. So I cut that part of myself off. I can remember one of the turning points in my life, where my spirituality began to heal me again. Because of my depression, I was hospitalized a couple of times. I remember I was sitting in the hospital bed, and was thinking “I’m really here again?” I had to spend weeks in that place again, and I was just fed up with my shit. I thought, I can’t die, I had tried. So what was here for me? I started praying to God, and I hadn’t done that in years. Since then, I began praying a lot more. I began reading more books like The Four Agreements, Siddhartha, and A New Earth. And I began watching spirituality videos around astrology, and taro. I became friends with more witches and healers. I started going to new moon circles, and full moon circles. I began to redevelop my relationship with spirituality through my community, and through my prayer. At 17-18, I was still doubtful and uncertain. If I had denied something for so long of course I was going to feel a little doubtful when I started tapping back into it. I would also say my spirituality became super strong once I started connecting back with nature. In 2017, after I graduated I began going to the forest a lot. And that changed my

life. Something in me got activated. And all the doubt I had, it didn’t exist anymore. Tapping into my intuition, doing a lot of meditating and writing. I would write to my higher self. I would write to whatever deity or God that I was feeling connected to. And it just strengthened over time. Spirituality to me is really just acknowledging yourself as the creator of your reality, and intentionally acting on that every single day. So if I get to create my reality, how do I want to live? My connection with God became less external. And when I was praying to God, I was praying to myself. Spirituality definitely saved me. Helped me see myself. Helped me see the world. Because now that I see this power in myself, the faith that I have for the world is growing every single day. Shit is fucked in our world. But I have this deep faith and belief that it’s going to unfold exactly the way it needs to.

6. HOW HAS IT IMPACTED YOUR ABILITY TO HEAL AND FURTHER FIND YOURSELF? Every single day is an opportunity to remember myself. Every single day. We’re all still in the process of healing ourselves.

7. WHERE/IN WHAT PLACES DO YOU FIND UNITY WITHIN YOURSELF? Definitely the forest. I can’t explain the feeling I have when I’m there. Everything in me is screaming and craving to go back and live there. I definitely want to build a house in the forest. There’s no cars, nothing in the city is there. And you know I am a city girl! I have a deep connection and love for Harlem and the city. But the way that the earth feels on my feet. To have no shoes on and to walk the earth barefoot is like seeing with more than just eyes. I still have to be aware, but I think what I so deeply admire, love and resonate with about the forest is the ecosystem that exists within it. And I want to bring that sustainable ecosystem to my community. The way that the forest depends on each other, flows with each other, compliments

each other; I want that for us. When something dies in the forest, it is space for new life to grow. Everything is used, everything is precious and beneficial to the forest.

8. DO YOU HAVE AN OVERALL MOTTO/BELIEF THAT YOU LIVE/CONNECT BY? “Prayer before action. Awareness before response Stillness before movement”

9. How have you explored art/ creativity as a way to heal?’ Something that I always come back to is writing letters. To myself, or to others. It’s a way to practice that positive self talk. So if I’m in a space of deep turmoil or confusion, writing helps me unravel the string of knots that may develop in my mind from overthinking. It helps me detangle it, and deeply process it. So the words come out on the paper and I just feel lighter. I love writing the words that I want someone else to tell me. It was really hard to start, it felt fake. But now in the present it touches me. I start to blush, I start to smile, and I genuinely believe in myself when I write these letters. I feel like we are programmed to resent the past, and worry about the future. Constantly in between the past and future, not really in the present. Whenever I get to write, it anchors me into right now, and redefines my relationship with the past and future.

10. IF YOU WERE SPEAKING TO THE WHOLE WORLD RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD YOU SAY? I would say everything that your heart desires, I believe in. I believe that it’s gonna happen, I believe in your art. Whatever your longing for right now, I deeply believe your gonna receive it. And if not, you’ll receive what is truly best for you.

Besmira Rraci | @goondoods | Bronx, NY

@collectiveartmag