Dray Malaise

25. he/him. queer poet, starving artist, cat dad. i follow from my main, xoplanetary!! ⚠️adult themes⚠️

[draymalaise]

hi tumblr!!

im an artist, specifically a writer, specifically a poet. i do all kinds of other stuff though, check it out:

Dray Malaise

Poetry and other creations by Dray Malaise.

my art is tagged #draymalaise!!

my first collection of poems is available digitally through kindle, and on paperback, here:

Eviscerate: Original Poetry by Dray Malaise [Malaise, Dray] on Amazon.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Eviscerate: Original Poetry

keep an eye out for my next collection, Connective Tissue—Eviscerate came out in 2023 so my writing style has evolved quite a bit since then!!

🫀 thank you for reading, enjoy your stroll through my blog 🫀

[rabbitscreams]

we need to invent a way to explain how deep running and pervasive and subliminal racism and antiblackness is without immediately sounding like an insane conspiracy theorist

[rabbitscreams]

female characters are always lighter than male characters. strong characters are almost always dark. aggressive characters are almost always dark. peaceful and intelligent characters are almost always light. even amongst darker characters the lightest one is usually either the leader or the girls. dark is evil and light is good.

[rabbitscreams]

if you try to explain this to a white person they look at you like youre insane

[gay-milton-quotes]

briefly pursuing a career in animation radicalized me on this. So many stories from the industry about how you have to start with your character design as dark as possible, because INEVITABLY you'll get "notes" from higher-ups asking you to make them lighter.

In a class about making a pitch bible my teacher once role-played as a shitty executive with a classmate, pressing them in intentionally abrasive ways about why they made their characters diverse. He emphasized that we had to learn to defend these things, because the racism in the industry is extremely deliberate.

[vforvalensa]

Ronald Wimberly's comic essay, Lighten Up, stays evergreen

[mismedleym]

toward the sun, from the sun

[vintagehomecollection]

Muted shades of peach and blue make for a restful bedroom. The floral fabric on the bedspread and chaise adds to the feeling of homey comfort.

Southern Interiors, 1988

[draymalaise]

on dads

Primer - Aaron Smith // Father - The Front Bottoms // untitled tumblr post - @brutaliakhoa // Higher Ground - Dray Malaise // The Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan

[uninoushii]

Jenny Holzer, Painted Signs, 1991

[azuremist]

“Unfinished Painting” — Keith Haring

This painting was left intentionally incomplete. Haring began it when he was dying due to complications from AIDS, and knew he didn’t have much time left. The piece represents the incomplete lives of him and many others, lost to AIDS during the crisis.

“AIDS Memorial Quilt” — Multiple

This quilt is over 50 tons heavy, and one of, if not the, largest pieces of community folk art. Many people who died of AIDS did not receive funerals, due to social stigma and many funeral homes refusing to handle the deceased’s remains, so this was one of the only ways their lives could be celebrated. Each panel was created in recognition of someone who died due to AIDS, typically by that person’s loved ones.

“Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) — Felix Gonzalez-Torres

This pile of candy weighs the same amount as Gonzalez-Torres’ partner, Ross Laycock, did. Ross Laycock had died due to AIDS-related complications earlier that same year. Visitors who see this piece are encouraged to take some of the candy. As they do so, the pile of candy weighs less and less, like how AIDS had deteriorated the body of Ross Laycock.

The SF Gay Men's Chorus

This photo was taken in 1993. The men in white are the surviving original members. Every man in black is standing in for an original member who lost their lives to AIDS.

“Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers); Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate, 1997” — John Boskovich

After the death of his lover, Stephen Earabino, from AIDS, Boskovich discovered that his family had completely cleared his room, including Boskovich’s own possessions, save for this fan. An entire person, existence and relationship had been erased, just like so many lives during the AIDS crisis. Boskovich encased the fan in Plexiglass, but added cutouts so that its air may be felt by the viewer, almost like an exhalation. In a sense, restoring Earabino’s breath.

“Blue” — Derek Jarman

This was Jarman’s final feature film, released four months before his death from AIDS-related complications. These complications had left him visually impaired, able to only see in shades of blue. This film consists of a single shot of a saturated blue color, as the soundtrack to the film described Jarman’s life through narration, intercut with the adventures of Blue, a humanization of the color blue. The film's final moments consist of a set of repeated names: “John. Daniel. Howard. Graham. Terry. Paul". These are the names of former lovers and friends of Jarman who had died due to AIDS.

“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) — Felix Gonzalez-Torres

Created by the same man who created the previous untitled piece, this piece was also inspired by his lover’s deterioration and death due to AIDS. This piece consists of two perfectly alike clocks. Over the course of time, one of the clocks will fall out of sync with the other.

In a letter written to his lover about the piece, before his lover’s passing, Gonzalez-Tourres wrote, “Don't be afraid of the clocks, they are our time, the time has been so generous to us. We imprinted time with the sweet taste of victory. We conquered fate by meeting at a certain time in a certain space. We are a product of the time, therefore we give back credit were it is due: time. We are synchronized, now forever. I love you.”

Please feel free to reblog with more additions

[blood-and-breath]

"Dear God" - Derek Jarman. Mixed media, (1987)

My favourite of Jarman's "black paintings" created on the first anniversary of his diagnosis with AIDS.

[stellamortem]

Untitled (Sometimes I Come to Hate People) - David Wojnarowicz (1992)

The last work of art created by East Village multimedia artist and activist David Wojnarowicz. Originally intended to be part of a series of 3, Wojnarowicz became too sick to finish the 3rd work in the series. Featuring red text sourced from his diary superimposed on a black and white photograph of wounded, bandaged hands, Wojnarowicz confronts his deterioration and impending death due to AIDS. He died on July 22, 1992 at the age of 37; the public demonstration held in the wake of his death would be one of the first political funerals of the AIDS crisis. In 1996, his ashes were scattered on the White House lawn.

“Every time somebody dies of AIDS, I think their lover, their friends, should drive with their bodies 100 miles an hour down to the White House, and throw their body over the White House fence.” - David Wojnarowicz, Close to the Knives

[queercripintersex]

There's no General Idea in this thread, time to rectify this!

AIDS - General Idea (1987)

One Year of AZT - General Idea (1991)

Felix, June 5, 1994 - AA Bronson (1994). Bronson is the only member of the collective still alive today. The painting is of Felix Partz, one of the group's core members, who died of AIDS that year. Jorge Zontal, the other core member of General Idea, also died of AIDS in 1994.

[taurzza]

oh to be loved by the sun

[marcolikestowatch]

Kinoko Shibari

[vaxolang]

No Future

Acrylic painting on wood

Size 25x30 cm

[havingapoemwithyou]

Burn Lake 3 by Carrie Fountain

[havingapoemwithyou]

A not admitting of the wound (1188) by Emily Dickinson

[xbox-nun]

Me as an art critic: this piece really explores the… Misogyny of the artist 🤔

[literaryvein]

L. V., life after the aftermath

[endcant]

bouba & kiki fan art

[rozzed]

why not have the reader re-read a sentence now and then? it won't hurt him....

[spinelessdogeater]

I feel like a whiteboard. Blank, empty and unremarkable, but still functional. Not something anyone would choose for beauty or grandeur, but certainly not ugly or repulsive. Not useless, but somewhat pointless if left bereft of pen. Full of potential—it could be used to write or draw a masterpiece if someone wanted. Maybe it already has, but it has long since been erased, wiped away with a spray of Windex, or stubbornly scrubbed with a dry eraser. A few marks remain—little black flecks, a kind of dark residue—but there's no way to know if they are the ruins of a masterful artwork, remnants of a moving poem, or a grocery list.

I am functional, if prompted. I am useful to others, but not by myself. I am just here, blank, waiting for something to make me worthwhile.