illustrated by Addelaye
Anatomy (2024)
December 17, 2024
A boy is bleached hair grown out so that you can see the dark roots. I saw it in a tv show, though. I loved how it looked, I even had it for a while. I mean, my hair has been treated for a few years now but I found a comfort with bleach. I always let my hair grow out until it got too much and I felt ugly. Only recently have I considered letting my hair grow out. I'm going on about a month and a half of no hair dye. I'm letting it take a rest.
I've had my reservations about this work. I have spent hours staring at these photos, the people in them. There's so much intention that I didn't even know that I had. And worst (or perhaps the most unnerving) of it all, it is my life. These people are a part of me, one way or another. I've always allowed myself the pleasure of indulgence. But there's nothing like indulgence with another person.
The first project I set my mind to was in 2020. My friends had consumed me. My being. It wasn't the first time I had a connection with other people in my life, but it wasn't as if I were putting on a show or lying through my teeth. Rather, I let myself trust them and, by extension, myself. We composed a body--we had a purpose, each of us. I don't think I could tell you what it was, but everything fell into place eventually. It, at the time, had worked. And I recognized a character, a personality, a perception of these people, and I showed it to them.
New York wasn't a culture shock. It had its massive differences compared to where I grew up; I rarely see trucks anymore. It's as welcoming as you let it be, and I had intention. I wanted to meet people. Let myself indulge a bit. I have never yearned more for understanding than I have for anything else. Understanding for whatever. How I keep changing faster than I can commute an hour to class, how I'm nineteen and don't feel nineteen, how I can let people affect me so much, how I can affect other people. The uneasiness of queerness, but the significance of self-expression. I've found a lot of myself throughout the city. But these things I discovered were hidden in the anatomy of other people. In the heart of their identity, their expression, and in most cases, their queerness. I find myself in their wardrobes; socks in my laundry, an unreturned shirt. Or in the way I talk, or feel. How did I create an identity based on everyone I've taken in? I'm independent, I am sure in my own person, but I can't help but wonder how these connections imprint your decisions.
The conception of this project has been in my thoughts for years, but I was encouraged by my film class. It took a while for me to figure out what I needed to say, and I couldn't pinpoint it until recently. At first, my focus was on people and their outward expression. I wanted to see how other people perform. But I notice now that there's a nuance to their characterizations. Perhaps it's the intimacy that my life has been documented and I want to show people. Or maybe the people are loud enough.
words by Jack Devitt
These three pieces were featured in a group exhibition at City College of New York for their 2025 Spring Exhibition.
Me and Vel in drag, 2024
Addelaye in bed, 2024
Me holding myself, 2024
_________________________________________
The Lingering Impacts of Champagne Coast
Come to my bedroom
Do you remember?
I played it for you on the roof
of your Brooklyn apartment.
It was hot when you moved in,
Come to my bedroom
You’ve never been
but you’re coming over
tomorrow.
I’m giving you a tattoo.
I played it for you on the roof
Like how you play
that one rock song
that I can never remember.
Come to my bedroom
I guess its fair if you don’t
remember,
But please remember to read
that book I gave you.
I played it for you on the roof,
that song, while the summer
cooled and the sweat dried.
Come to my bedroom
I played it for you on the roof
I keep having dreams of
my teeth falling out
Last year was our first
Christmas alone and we didn’t
even realize it
Man, with a negative
connotation
That’s what you get
for nonchalance
Your socks are still
in my laundry
From when I borrowed them
after it rained
on the way home
I can see your tanktop
underneath your shirt
Wife beater / boy lover
Filling the space with
your voice because there’s
nothing else you
know how to do
Straight stature, / shoulders up and / squared chests / Somehow you walk / in a straight line and / only move in / ninety-degree angles / You neglect the / ball and chain / whereas mine spirals / around my spine / curving into itself / scoliosis, scoliosis
"On death" words by Addelaye