Jeanne Lorioz, fat woman, art


The body is an elusive mistress that betrays me in my moments of deference—not just wholly for the loveliness of curving hips and a man’s defining muscles, but for my own horror of admiring, and at times even hesitantly defying, media’s perception of beauty. I am not talking about my reverence for the aforementioned curves and muscles. I am not talking of media’s bias towards the lanky, the fair-faced; a celebrity’s airbrushed features glorified in the latest edition of a magazine—no. Since I was twelve, I burdened a strange endearance for the wide and plush (not curvy) bodies bereft from media, and grew to love those types of bodies unconditionally notwithstanding the lack of confidence in my own. Read More

Volumes in Colour

We as black women are blessed with an adorning of power. We are strong, because by being black we are forced everyday to go to war with the ideas that introduce themselves and proclaim who we are as black women before a word or formality ever slips out of our lips. Our skin speaks. We ask it to let our lips do the talking, but it cannot, its position coated in histories of melanin- is firm. Read More

Gay Macrophilia: A Sexual Fantasy of Great Proportions

I don’t always browse Tumblr, but when I do I’m always 1 click away from “weird sex tumblr” (WST)*. To see if you’re prone to this, go to Tumblr (it works best in a public place like a library or computer lab) and search for something innocent like “shoes”, “houses”, “Best anime to watch when you get stood up by your date again”. Within minutes of clicking around, you should find yourself in a place that will make you blush and hurriedly try to X out the screen as people start turning around and judging you. That’s when you know you’ve made it.

Anyway, I just so happened to have been transported to WST at home. Alone. And I stumbled on something that I found both erotic and fascinating and—if I were a nun—obscene. It was a man, the size of skyscraper, putting another man no bigger than his hand into his mouth. And that isn’t a euphemism for sucking cock.

Dude was legit about to devour little homie. Read More

blown covers by ryan thomas

CQ Interview: “Blown Covers” by Ryan Thomas

Ryan Thomas“Finally! I get to read more than the first few chapters!” I exclaimed when a close friend of mine (Ryan Thomas) sent me the novel he’d been working on since college. I start reading the first few pages of Blown Covers and then I only emerge when day has turned into night, weekend into Monday, and everything I loved has turned into ashes in my mouth because the main character–*doesn’t add spoiler*.

Blown Covers, the coming of age story that follows three teens sharing an apartment while working the same literary internship, is something I wish I had read when I was younger. Written in three languages (and translated into English), it takes us through the trials of David (White American-Enlgish), Chrstiano (Spanish-Spanish), and Lena (German-German) as they deal with their inner turmoil and each other.

I sat down with the author Ryan over coffee (several thousand miles apart) and asked him to talk more about the book and his role as its author. Read More

shana haydock, faking it, indian, whiteness,

faking it.


i have fallen in love, enough,

so that i do not parade with my lips

orange and gleaming, so that i do not

poof out my breasts, cheeks full of air.

the dark bits of me lay cleavaged

in contagion, exposed only to shame

and quick dirty peekaboos. Read More