Day to day, I write and organize projects about the digital commons — where groups of people with aligned goals build systems of digital communication and information that they rely on and steward together. Like a community garden, but we dig our hands into signals, scatter bits and pixels so they grow into something meaningful. Platform co-operatives, community networks, digital research and cultural archives, Free and Open Source projects, are just some examples.Read More
05.03.22 at feldfünf with Mary Maggic and Johanna Hedva //06.03.22 online with Alice Sparklykat and Mai Ishikawa Sutton // We’re witnessing a revival in occultism and esoteric practices, at least…Read More
To hear some beats to relax/study to,
I invoke Lofi girl.In a mythic time of human/cyborg symbiosis, she and I are one. By the grace of her beats, I can achieve my best self.
The scene is all too familiar, the gestures rehearsed. It begins with the innocence of casual browsing, the wide-eyed wonder as you click and scroll, traipsing around some mildly interesting news article. Then it leers at you, inevitable and horrible.Read More
‘A Conversation on Care’ was the official name of the talk SchwarzRund and I gave in Summer 2021, as part of COVEN BERLIN’s event “an invitation to sink in to the bog.” Watching it back though, I realise that another title could have been ‘A long overdue catch up between friends who are always keen to work together, could forever talk to each other, but don’t always have the energy to do so.’Read More
Not so long ago I met a troll for the first time. Or I think I did. I’ve probably met others, but since they usually work in the shadows, their identity is anonymous. Trolls never show they are trolls. But this time we were living together.Read More
DOOM leaves space for not just the work, but also specifically the footwork of mourning to pop up, which at times might look like a teetering dance and heavy breath from under a lace mask.Read More
Moisture fills all pores. When the whole planet is immersed in tropical weather, there will be no infertile soil and diversity will flourish in every corner.Read More
Poems by Inky Lee.
I knew of an asian man. His body was small and he was going blind. He quit his office job and was training to become a masseur – to see with his hands while his eyes cease to see. He was a devout christian and was known to pray for many hours every day. People called him a holy man. One time, I went to his place to get a massage. After the massage, he prayed for me. As I was about to leave, he smirked and told me to never bring a black man home because that would make my mother go into a long fast.Read More
Coming from Bogotá, a previous swamp which was dried out in colonial times, I didn’t grow up with a body of water close to me. The Pacific and Atlantic Oceans were around 10 and 13 hours away from where I lived.Read More