These 3 are currently available as prints in my shop! And there’s a free shipping offer through Sunday!
Our cover artist has some amazing prints available in her shop!
todays bird

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

#extradirty
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
$LAYYYTER
EXPECTATIONS

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
KIROKAZE

No title available
art blog(derogatory)

Product Placement
trying on a metaphor
macklin celebrini has autism

pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art
hello vonnie
Stranger Things

if i look back, i am lost
Jules of Nature
seen from Brazil

seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Denmark
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Jamaica

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Uzbekistan

seen from South Africa

seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Moldova
seen from Spain
@queermag
These 3 are currently available as prints in my shop! And there’s a free shipping offer through Sunday!
Our cover artist has some amazing prints available in her shop!
Summers in Tallahassee by Krista Coppedge
We are still accepting submissions for our Flavors of Quark issue!
We especially want to see some visual art from queer artists! Send us your paintings, drawings, photography, mixed media, sculpture, et cetera.
SEND IT. SEND IT NOW.
So after dinner, the two of us...look up at the sky so bulging with stars that if we arch our backs and look back behind us, everything plays in reverse.
"Sea Legs" by Stacy Brewster
Check out the Kindle version of our first issue The Call to Adventure, now available in the Amazon store!
Our issue, The Call to Adventure, is finally setting sail today! Check it out over on the site!
The Origins of Heroes. From Barry B. Powell’s new free verse translation of The Iliad by Homer. Barry B. Powell is Halls-Bascom Professor of Classics Emeritus at the University of Wisconsin, Madison.
qu.ee/r: Call for Designers
The Quick-and-Dirty qu.ee/r Magazine, a Colorado-registered not-for-profit publication whose goals include nurturing and showcasing brilliant work by brilliant queers, is looking for an LGBTQ-identified graphic designer to donate his or her services in designing the magazine's logo. We are much more interested in talent than in experience, so all and sundry ideas are welcome. For more information or to apply, please contact Daniel Shannon, founding nonfiction editor and tech troll, at d-at-qu-dot-ee.
The Down-Low qu.ee/r, founded circa August 2013, is a presently-online-but-eventually-print literary magazine that takes as its founding objective the promotion of quality queer works of poetry, nonfiction, fiction, and visual or plastic art. Our goals for the community are manifold, but include the rediscovery and reimagining of a distinctive queer artistic voice, the dissemination of work by both fresh and familiar queer faces, and the establishment of a rare and rarefied standard of quality for LGBTQ works. Our first issue, entitled The Call to Adventure, goes to "click" in November, and will feature a diverse and incredible skilled roster of queer artists, queer artists who heard our call and responded with brilliancy and passion.
But we're looking for just a little more brilliancy and passion---yours. The not-unskilled qu.ee/r editoriarat has thus far home-brewed the bulk of our public-facing visual language; but for something as central to the magazine's identity as a logo, we'd like to bring in some outside talent. We have a handful of ideas already that we're interested in seeing developed into something distinctive but not too distinguished, something that captures the tone of queer quality we aim to set and will last us through many issues to come.
qu.ee/r is currently an unpaid market, and except insofar as you would be donating to an officially-registered nonprofit, this engagement would be no different. Artists and freelancers ourselves, the editors appreciate--dearly--the "fuck you, pay me" thing; but until we're somewhat more established, all we can offer is the satisfaction of setting a brilliant new queer vehicle on the right visual course and whatever tax write-offs you can wrangle with our totally-legitimate incorporated status.
That Number Again If you think you'd be a good fit for the job, please send a brief letter of introduction, along with some samples of your previous work (not necessarily a "portfolio" of previous "jobs"--show us your Tumblr if you'd like, we love fresh meat), to Daniel Shannon at d-at-qu-dot-ee. We look forward to hearing from you soon.
It is the right of all peoples to their own culture. It is the freedom to create our own images. A society which abandons to others the way of showing itself, that is to say the way of presenting itself to itself, is a society enslaved.
David Ellwood quotes former French President François Mitterrand in reflecting upon the French determination to preserve their culture and artistic creation in the face of globalization. (via Why do the French insist on their ‘cultural exception’? | OUPblog)
…she made that trip to Spain and, finding herself there, alone, began to wonder, perhaps, if a lifetime of drinking and watching the men was exactly what she wanted.
Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin
I believe this is where I say something about this being “relevant to your interests”?
(via tj)
If you’re a boy writer, it’s a simple rule: you’ve gotta get used to the fact that you suck at writing women and that the worst women writer can write a better man than the best male writer can write a good woman. And it’s just the minimum. Because the thing about the sort of heteronormative masculine privilege, whether it’s in Santo Domingo, or the United States, is you grow up your entire life being told that women aren’t human beings, and that women have no independent subjectivity. And because you grow up with this, it’s this huge surprise when you go to college and realize that, “Oh, women aren’t people who does my shit and fucks me.” And I think that this a huge challenge for boys, because they want to pretend they can write girls. Every time I’m teaching boys to write, I read their women to them, and I’m like, “Yo, you think this is good writing?” These motherfuckers attack each other over cliche lines but they won’t attack each other over these toxic representations of women that they have inherited… their sexist shorthand, they think that is observation. They think that their sexist distortions are insight. And if you’re in a writing program and you say to a guy that their characters are sexist, this guy, it’s like you said they fucking love Hitler. They will fight tooth and nail because they want to preserve this really vicious sexism in the art because that is what they have been taught. And I think the first step is to admit that you, because of your privilege, have a very distorted sense of women’s subjectivity. And without an enormous amount of assistance, you’re not even going to get a D. I think with male writers the most that you can hope for is a D with an occasional C thrown in. Where the average women writer, when she writes men, she gets a B right off the bat, because they spent their whole life being taught that men have a subjectivity. In fact, part of the whole feminism revolution was saying, “Me too, motherfuckers.” So women come with it built in because of the society. It’s the same way when people write about race. If you didn’t grow up being a subaltern person in the United States, you might need help writing about race. Motherfuckers are like ‘I got a black boy friend,’ and their shit sounds like Klan Fiction 101. The most toxic formulas in our cultures are not pass down in political practice, they’re pass down in mundane narratives. It’s our fiction where the toxic virus of sexism, racism, homophobia, where it passes from one generation to the next, and the average artist will kill you before they remove those poisons. And if you want to be a good artist, it means writing, really, about the world. And when you write cliches, whether they are sexist, racist, homophobic, classist, that is a fucking cliche. And motherfuckers will kill you for their cliches about x, but they want their cliches about their race, class, queerness. They want it in there because they feel lost without it. So for me, this has always been the great challenge. As a writer, if you’re really trying to write something new, you must figure out, with the help of a community, how can you shed these fucking received formulas. They are received. You didn’t come up with them. And why we need fellow artists is because they help us stay on track. They tell you, “You know what? You’re a bit of a fucking homophobe.” You can’t write about the world with these simplistic distortions. They are cliches. People know art, always, because they are uncomfortable. Art discomforts. The trangressiveness of art has to deal with confronting people with the real. And sexism is a way to avoid the real, avoiding the reality of women. Homophobia is to avoid the real, the reality of queerness. All these things are the way we hide from encountering the real. But art, art is just about that.
Junot Diaz speaking at Word Up Bookshop, 2012 (via clambistro)
Your quarks, dear queers, are starfire, bright and alive in the otherwise-darkness of the unknowably vast universe. This quarter, we ask you to share them with us.
Your dinnertime wrap.
Readers and writers, one and all, hear ye, hear ye: As we your editors begin to make our final decisions for qu.ee/r’s first issue, “The Call to Adventure,” we would like to pompously and circumstantially announce that this is—or soon will be—a wrap. As of October the First, anno domini 2013, we will no longer accept submissions for our inaugural issue.
Are those tears we see? Wails we hear? Teeth we can just tell are being gnashed? Well take heart: there’s good news to soften the blow. For approximately one month from that date, “The Call to Adventure” goes to whatever the digital equivalent of press is—goes to click?—and will be available for downloading directly into your hot little hands.
And we’ve even a bit of news to mollify, excite, and otherwise gruntle the impatient: October 1st brings as well the announcement of our second grand theme. So don’t stop scribbling and don’t reduce your reading—there is, as ever and as always, more on the horizon.
Yrs Always, The Editors
At sixteen the poet reads Whitman and Homer and wants to be immortal. Alas, at twenty-four the same poet wants to be in The New Yorker.
Donald Hall. Happy birthday Mr Hall.
Here’s a few of his great poems.
(via mrmullin)
Live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dales and fields, And all the craggy mountains yield.
'Live with me and be my love' by Christopher Marlow from Oxford Scholarly Editions Online. (via oupacademic)
HIS SOUL. You betrayed me, you with your filthy little wishes and soiled little dreams and your innumerable, incomprehensible fears! I sang as angels do, golden lifting tones on an unending breath, floating music without inception or decline, music that makes a lie of time, of death, of grief or loss or pain, music free of wall or membrane, top or bottom, direction, shape, or meaning. I sang of Immortality and you— DR. BROWNE. Write something else.
Tony Kushner, Hydriotaphia (via effyoufyi)
We're humming that Wayne Newton song. You know the one.
To the readers and writers; to the linkers and sharers; to the mailing-list signers and above all to the submitters; to the Internet, and Interqueers of all makes and models—thank you!
A week and a half ago, qu.ee/r Magazine proudly declared itself to the world; since then, we’ve been thrilled to accept roughly one hundred submissions from the 122 registered authors of our 8,500 total visitors. And though we’ll cop to some gentle prodding on our end, we feel like we hardly had to do anything at all: the response from our community was overwhelmingly postitive, enthusiastic, and—best of all—gorgeous.1
qu.ee/r’s founding mission involves something truly special, and truly challenging: the unearthing, repotting, and cultivation of a distinctively and definitively queer artistic voice. It was with that in mind that we entitled our first issue The Call to Adventure: the work to be done is hard, and will be impeded; but Odysseus wouldn’t have his Odyssey without one very pissed-off Poseidon—for that matter, neither would Homer. If we are resisted, then resistance will make us great; we will swash and buckle our way to the discovery of what makes queer art queer art, and we will do it with vim, verve, and vivre. We’re deeply excited that our we includes you.
We’d especially like to thank Autostraddle for team-picking us, The New School’s School of Writing for tweeting about us, Lauren Cerand for inspiring us and furnishing our introduction, and, once more, our submitters, for joining us in the adventure.
So keep submitting! Keep sharing! Keep up the momentum! Keep us on our toes; and we’ll keep you on yours.
Excitedly, humbly, ambitiously, and with a lot of feelings generally, we remain,
Yours, The Editors
Really, submitters. Way to go. ↩︎
What is this?
queercraftz arthouse is a new project, geared towards helping young LGBTQ persons empower themselves as artists and artisans by providing a common stage to showcase their craft.
Who are you?
I’m a 25-year old queer lady, living in Brooklyn with my partner and our little…
My partner is doing this. I would love for all the queer artist types you know to hear about it.
It's shaping up to be a good summer to be a queer art-er.