Black lines on white background with words 'Rimay Raiz'

White text 'Ana Somnia' on white background

Black and white AltSalt logo on a black background

A collage of a woman sitting cross-legged with her hands on her knees, alongside an image of her lying facedown on a yoga mat with her hands upturned and stretched towards the camera.

Dark audio waveforms against a white background

An autumn landscape with vibrant trees with leaves in oranges, yellows, and reds

Close-up of an Irish Setter puppy with reddish fur

About a dozen uncooked dumplings sitting upon a white plate dusted with flower

Film poster for 90s Disney Film "Honey I Blew Up the Kid". Depicts actor Rick Moranis standing in the middle of a white background with a giant red and white toddler's sneaker ominously hanging over him about to stomp on him. Poor man!

Simone Biles at the 2016 Rio Olympics waving to the crowd

A mandala that is half half Asian American, half Andean

A man wearing a golden headless, holding a staff, sitting on a rock; a sword is stuck into his chest and he is bleeding, yet looks proud

Collage of a man wearing glasses and a collared shirt beside a wiphala, opposite a psychedically colored image of a mustached man

Whoopi Goldberg as her character Guinan from Star Trek: The Next Generation with a caption "There'll be others. But every time you feel love, it'll be different. Every time it's different."

Flags of Ukraine and Trans Rights above an image of Spongebob and Patrick Starr smashing a computer with the title "Letter to Art, Ukraine, Trans Rights, and Doom(scrolling)"

Wow! It’s been a whirlwind few years. I can hardly believe this is happening, yet here we are, debuting AltSalt publicly for the first time. If you're new here, I suggest checking out the <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/about">About</a> page first to get oriented.
With that said, in this post, I thought I'd give more context around the history of AltSalt and this sneak peek launch!
 
The Beginnings of AltSalt
Back in March 2019, I remember sitting in a second-floor Starbucks overlooking Union Square here in New York, chatting with <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/sandycha" target="_self">Sandy Enriquez</a>, when the initial idea for AltSalt dawned on me.
At the time, I’d been researching my Peruvian background, trying to figure out who the heck I am (as one does, y’know?), and I was finding it incredibly difficult.
Andean myths and legends? Disparate and hard to find good sources. Any Andean representation at all? Also possible to find, but way harder than it should've been, especially in the age of the internet.
In fact, I was researching full time for several months, diving into archives at the New York Public Library, taking classes with the <a href="https://ayni.institute" target="_blank">Ayni Institute</a> and the <a href="https://www.quechuacollective.org" target="_blank">Quechua Collective</a>, and only after much effort did I begin to get an inkling of what my Andean cultural inheritance meant to me. (And of course, this is still an ongoing journey!)
 
The Spark
But when Sandy mentioned that she’d been running into similar challenges finding Quechua zines… something clicked. I realized, Oh my god, how many people are researching, trying to find content that speaks to them? And how many people, like me, are finding this way too difficult when the entire lore of Game of Thrones is literally a simple Google search away? What if there were a website that helped make this discovery easier?
I filed the idea away until March 2020, when I finally had the time to research it. And behold! Not only were folks searching for this content, creators were finding challenges connecting with audiences too.
So being a web developer, I set to work! And voila, ! built the site! (As one does). It only took a bajillion hours.
 
Feeling Gratitude
In all seriousness though, I’m so grateful that I’ve had the time, resources, and skills to invest in the first iteration of this idea.
In particular, I’m grateful to all the folks who have provided their feedback — including <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/sandycha" target="_self">Sandy Enriquez</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/luisaulhoa" target="_self">Luisa Ulhoa</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/shirley" target="_self">Shirley Coenen</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/muditaheart" target="_self">Charles Huang</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/jamie_sa" target="_self">Jamie San Andres</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/jonmorales22" target="_self">Jonathan Morales</a>, and many others who are not on AltSalt (yet!) — and especially to my family who have endured me talking endlessly about this site for the past 10 months.
I’m also grateful to <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/rimayraiz" target="_self">Rimay Raiz</a> for entrusting AltSalt with showcasing the fantastic work they’ve been doing to create representation of the Andean diaspora. I’m stoked to have their zines here as a part of this sneak peek release!
Through its memory keeping, the <a href="https://ayni.institute" target="_blank">Ayni Institute</a> has also given me the self-knowledge that has rooted AltSalt in Andean notions of reciprocity.
And with so many possibilities ahead, I’m excited to be here at this beginning as we open this platform to creators, and eventually everyone, so we can start new dialogues around our stories and experiences.
 
What’s in Store
With this sneak peek, we hope to start getting feedback on what’s working and not with this site. This is in preparation for a full launch later this month, January 2021!
In anticipation of that official launch, if you’re a creator, I encourage you to <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/submit" target="_self">submit</a>. We’re currently brainstorming ways to build this resource, in particular thinking through how we might collaborate with folks to showcase their work. If this sounds interesting to you, we look forward to seeing your creations!
Feel free also to share this sneak peek URL — <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com" target="_self">https://frontend.altsalt.com</a> — with anyone who may be interested in seeing Rimay Raiz’s content or submitting their own.
Ideas for future site features include collections, commenting, community creative challenges, and more! There are so many possibilities.
Lastly, if you have suggestions on how to promote this resource or build this community, I’m grateful for feedback. You can reach me at artemio [at] altsalt.com
 
Conclusion
And with that, thank you so much for tuning in. Enjoy checking out <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/rimayraiz">Rimay Raiz’s</a> work! I look forward to hearing your ideas, seeing your submissions, and developing further as we work towards an official release!
In reciprocity,
Alternative voices, alternative formats. This is AltSalt.

A new resource for discovering alternative voices is here.

Welcome to the AltSalt sneak peek!

It is shortly after the celebration of Thanksgiving holiday here in the United States. It's a holiday that was founded on a false idea of togetherness that sought to erase some really bad things in US history, but what's been so reassuring is that I see a lot of friends are able to see some good come out of the holiday: a goal of merriment with friends of all beliefs and backgrounds in the coldest part of Winter. Perhaps, for many of my cosmopolitan friends in New York City especially, we've remixed Thanksgiving into our own holiday to represent the values of camaraderie that we so desperately need in these times, just as we are surfacing our understanding the new Omicron variant of COVID as we go into December.

I had some thoughts I wanted to visit for some time, and have only gotten the time to settle them down into some recognizable shape. Like you say, it feels like we're in times where thoughts and ideas and revelations seem to pour out of every conversation and interaction, digital and in-person, but for the sake of posterity, I want to capture at least some of the ones I've had over the past month before I write my next letter to you.

My first set of thoughts center around young people. My next set of thoughts center around Asian American-ness. My last set of thoughts center around doing good.

(Be warned, we're going to have quotes being thrown left and right.)

"Best Day Ever!" image from Nickelodeon's Spongebob Squarepants, which echoes my cousin once-removed's declaration during Thanksgiving

This last month marks my shift in working life to education. As someone who admired the work of people like Mr. Rogers and Jim Henson, who placed such an emphasis on reaching and influencing young people, it seemed only proper for me to actually work with young people firsthand to see what they're like rather than read books about it.

And simply being around young people for a few weeks, I've already felt stirring in my soul to the memories, sounds, and textures of the mental landscape of being a young person again. What a wonder it is to view the world as so fresh and new! During Thanksgiving, my 5 year old cousin once-removed (my cousin's daughter) kept saying "This is the best day ever!" I can't be certain if it's something that kids just say because it's fun to say, or they saw it on a TV show like Spongebob. But part of me tries to remember what it was like to form memories as a 5 year old, and there were probably days where in maybe 2-3 years of conscious living, a simple Thanksgiving can truly be one of the best days of one's short life.

Another thought I've been delighting in pondering: are they 'young people'? Are they 'children'? Are they 'adults of the future'? 'Future thinkers and creators and doers' feels like it's already creating pressure. What vocabulary should we be using to describe people who are so new to this world? I see that young people themselves are whole people in their own right, even if adults can instinctively view them as lesser. But often, while they lack in developmental milestones and life experiences, they can often exhibit whole personalities that are unique and whole in their own right from a young age. We've often internalized the right for a person or entity to exist based on their utility to society, but I think maybe to reclaim young people's rights to exist for their own sake, I like to refer to them as 'young people.'

On another note, young people simultaneously give us hope, yet we are also the ones who must model for them and give them hope that there can be a better future. I hope I learn something new every day to be a good model for young people in the future, and create practices and expectations that encourage them to be clever, emotionally intelligent, and brave.

I like the quote "We do not inherit the land from our ancestors, but we borrow it from our children." I had first seen the quote in an exercise at an old job where we had to choose a quote from a selection of quotes set up on a vast array of tables, almost like how the Dalai Lama is said to be found when as a child, choosing his favorite toys from a vast selection of toys, presumably able to because he has memories from his past life. Apparently this particular quote is unclear in origin, as per Quote Investigator, but I still appreciate the elegance and sentiment of it, especially in times where we as a collection of generations are so consciously thinking about the future state we are leaving the planet in.

Another thing I've noticed, which might sound like it goes without saying, is that young people are all completely different each time. I believe I heard a marine biologist on a podcast once say she couldn't eat meat after she saw that the face of every fish was individual and different, just like the face of every human was unique and personal.

Likewise, each child is born to a different family, and you can't reduce them to simplistic terms. And when I look at them, I can't help but be in amazement that every one of them is singular, individual, and special. There's also a meme I saw of Star Trek: The Next Generation that said love with someone is different every time.

And of course, there's the Mr. Rogers quote,

"You make each day a special day by just your being you. Everything you do is just a little bit different from everybody else. In that way, you've already won."

And of course, that's true for adults too, because every adult was once a child. There's no need to be perfect or some platonic ideal of human accomplishment, because there's no one way to be, each person is already perfect, like every fish, every animal, every plant, every leaf, every snowflake, and every blade of grass.

Additionally, on the topic of young people, as hopeful and kindhearted I try to be, I wrestle with all these cynical feelings around the world, how there's many days where it seems very difficult to have high hopes. But I see the students bright faces and think of their futures, and I can't face them with cynicism. I think of this quote by Hayao Miyazaki:

“Personally I am very pessimistic. But when, for instance, one of my staff has a baby you can't help but bless them for a good future. Because I can't tell that child, 'Oh, you shouldn't have come into this life.' And yet I know the world is heading in a bad direction. So with those conflicting thoughts in mind, I think about what kind of films I should be making.”

Another feeling that I'm unsure of how to address, but I feel I must talk about is a feeling of unmoored-ness around my Asian American identity. I've been wrestling with it quite a bit in the past several years, having an awakening moment in grad school, but I also am able to find myself forgetting what that means to me. And in my letters with you, Art, when I see you embrace your Andean heritage, I stand in admiration. You seem to embrace your cultural identity so warmly, whereas I am confronted with my own touch starvation from my Asian American identity. Do I know it's there? Is it set aside unless I pick it up? When I call to it, will it say it loves me back? Where is it situated in my body? (If I were to place a bet, I think it'd probably be in my stomach.)

As a result, my ambivalent feelings towards my cultural identity has confounded my efforts to feel comfortable in any artistic expression of these feelings. Whatever efforts would be made in the immediate future would be messy, and lack full awareness, and I worry might be insulting to myself and others for reasons I can't articulate easily. So if you're wondering why I couldn't participate more in your Alt Salt celebration of Andean and Asian American heritage, that apprehension is a large part of that answer.

One thing that gives me comfort in my apprehension, is that I understand a lot of my feelings of my Asian American identity are relatable to others in the diaspora as well. And I think through living through this foggy haze of unknown territory, I will gradually live my way into the answers I seek, and I hope that will guide others in their journeys as well. I suppose what I want to say is, where I walk, I know I do not walk alone.

For Asian Americans, it feels as if we each exist as separate islands, unmoored to a continent or culture, either of Asia or America... We don't know what we look like. We see ourselves as we are seen by others in media. Sometimes we can spend most of our lives not even seeing ourselves as Asian. (My cousin's daughter told her that she thought they spoke Spanish at home... Oof.) Asian Americans float around, half blending into our assimilated identities in our new world, half losing our place in a homeland, lost in a foggy mirror. We can seem like foreigners to each other or even ourselves.

And it's strange, even though I feel it's more pronounced in Asian Americans in some ways, I think that's the state of affairs for all Americans to some degree. To note, not Asian Americans, but Americans. Part of the process of coming to America, as a nation of immigrants, is that one has to lose that attachment to a homeland and become unmoored in one's identity, to fit in with the others in our new collective homeland. We each must strike out a new place for ourselves, and carve ourselves a home out of whatever shelter we can, with our own bare hands if necessary. Through coming here, we all have gone through the trauma of losing part of our ancestry and cultural identity, whether in our immediate families or our ancestors. And that's true whether we're people of color, or if we're white. On some level, we're all a bunch of kids with insecure identities trying to fit in at a lunch table which wants to displace us.

We think of the United States as a large country on a single body of land, but really, America is an archipelago nation of 300 million islands. A nation of nations. A collection of people who look at themselves with foggy mirrors.

And now, I sense it in the air, there are cultural forces are at work tectonically shifting underneath Asian Americans, and we find ourselves looking to see where our feet are rooted.

But I think the richness of American identity can be found in our collective understanding that we can all share a place at the table. Like my friends who shared their Thanksgiving tables with other friends in New York City. America is a nation that can gain something from each of us and share it with each other and the rest of the world. That's one of the places I see a wealth of hope in America. I already quoted it last letter, but I realize it's resonating once again, that these words by the poet Maya Angelou speak to a deeper understanding that all people have in America:

“You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all.” - Maya Angelou

Lastly, I have recently been mulling over doing good after some prompts this month.

The definition of what good is is not a concern to me. I spent a lot of time in undergrad learning about ethics and moral philosophy (and being in my professors' office hours!) and my general conclusions were straightforward: We all must encourage each other's pleasure, limit each other's pain, and do so as sustainably as possible. So that's easy. But when I think about how to do good, I get discouraged since it's felt recently that live in a world where hope, truth, and justice have been in recession for some time.

My therapist gave me an assignment to mull over what I enjoyed in life that was something I enjoyed for its own sake rather than something I am doing for explicit or implicit external validation. A huge assignment! We acquire so many layers of rationality and ego and societal expectation to protect ourselves that I think any adult barely understands why they do half the things they do. Understanding why we act the way we act is a challenge for maybe two or more lifetimes!

That being said, I still took the assignment seriously and have been mulling over the idea of being good and being perfect. In 15.15 of the Analects, Confucius says "If a person is not in the habit of asking, 'What is this? What is this?' then I cannot do anything for him."

Basically, Confucius can't teach anyone who isn't willing to ask questions, so it's kind of a good place to be. You can't expect yourself to improve if you aren't always asking yourself how you can do better. There's definitely insufferable people we all meet who instantly know the answer to all questions without thinking things through! And oftentimes, the most learned people in a field are much less certain about the validity of truth than people who have a rudimentary understanding of the field. That's the Dunning Kruger Effect at work, after all. If anything, believing you know 100% what the right thing to do is as an individual, is the voice of one's inner tyrant, who demands to be listened to. That is all to say, that short of thinking ourselves into a dangerous maddening loop, asking ourselves how to do better and better is part of a healthy orientation towards good and just living. And it often gets better in concert with our peers and their own guidance and stories.

There is also the saying "Perfect is the enemy of the good". This has served me well to quell the anxious paralyzing part of my mind that tries to anticipate every single possible future and try to prepare for all the catastrophic events that seem to be right around every corner. It cuts through and reassures me that, "hey, just do something good, not perfect, and leave the rest up to fate."

However, maybe there is one most resonant take on doing good that does the best job cutting through all the rational mind and practical aspects of creating solutions that's been helping me recently. It comes from the poem Wild Geese by Mary Oliver, which goes:

“You do not have to be good...You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves."

I've also been exploring a lot of vocabulary around being an artist, and I think that doing good in the world seems to have a lot of similar vocabulary.

As an artist, you need to let your work live and breathe and be released from you. I will be one of the first people to tell you, in games I've made, spending one, two, or three years, there's a half life in which the game will eat at your insides, telling you to get it made. Reflections at Sunset demanded I get released by one October and after two years of development, it was released. 'Released' is a great word for that sensation. It wasn't perfect, after being 'released' from the weight of the game, my spirit felt lighter, and the game probably felt relieved as well. A similar thing happened for Confessions of an NPC. Art will be like that. And as Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic, if you don't answer the call, then the art will stop knocking at your door, and perhaps fly to someone else in the world.

Ultimately, I've been working to attune myself to the quiet voice inside me that knows what it wants after I'm able to settle down all the other noise in my spirit. Improving one's life is being able to constantly peel away all the factors that create noise in our spirit, like feeding our stomach when it distracts us, feeding our mind when we need thoughts, feeding our social animal when we feel lonely, being in a peaceful environment when things have been noisy, and hopefully eventually being able to ask ourselves the questions that have been rapping at our soul for years and answering the call. Part of the work of being an artist and being a human being is knowing how to listen to when the quiet parts of your spirit are pulling at you to go one way in life, to see what lies on the horizon, and not stop walking til you get where you know you were meant to be getting to, tending to the restless inner fire. If we are unable to do so, then there will be dire consequences in our internal worlds and eventually our physical being.

However, if we are able to consistently answer the call from within, attune ourselves to its needs more and more over time, like soothing a frustrated fearful child, eventually we might be able to practice our way into a state of being where our actions are mostly in line with our desires. One of my Eastern Philosophy professor's favorite lines from the Analects (that he probably told me during his office hours) goes:

"At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning. "At thirty, I stood firm. "At forty, I had no doubts. "At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven. "At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth. "At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right."

I do feel I'm starting to see that progress in my life now. And I hope that I can help others in their journey, no matter their age or race or background. We are all valid and special and I hope to continue my work in reminding myself and others of essential truths like these.

I hope to hear from you soon during this winter season. Stay warm and many blessings.

Letter to Art #3 - Young People, Unmoored Asian Americans, and Doing Good

“Envision a future in which your culture, history, and values have guided the world to an alternative reality — and harnessing that energy, create a piece to resonate with our times.”

Reality is born of our thoughts, feelings, and perceptions. To create an alternative world, we must first then take an imaginative leap — place ourselves first into a future of possibilities, and only then work backwards and guide ourselves to that point from our present moment.

That was the reasoning behind this prompt for Alternative Worlds, to feel an alternative reality in our present mind, to first dream and then to manifest.

Each person has their own knowledge, stories, and vision — and it’s in bringing those voices together and harnessing our collective wisdom that we can also begin to glimpse an alternative reality greater than the sum of its parts — a collective dream that we all share.

In keeping with these ideas, here we have space for contributors to express what this project means to us, what we hope folks take away from it, and what we’re grateful for:

For me, this project was born out of a desire to create a resource for the Andean community. When I started the journey to learn about my Andean heritage, I had a ridiculously hard time knowing where to start or how to find resources and representation. So part of my motivation is to make it easier for anyone else in the future to start this process of self discovery, and to know they’re not alone.

This project is also a way to honor the idea of ayni or reciprocity in Andean culture. I’ve recently been dialed into this idea of Global Reciprocity, a proposal to create new paradigms in our cultures, practices, and institutions centering reciprocal relationships at the core, all of which I learned about alongside Shirley via a class with the Ayni Institute, a social change organization with Peruvian leadership based out of Boston.

With that in mind, creating both the Andean and Asian American collections in solidarity with one another, both as a way to celebrate our diversity as well as build new relationships and recognize our shared humanity, is a contribution to this idea of moving towards Global Reciprocity. How do we get there? By going together. And concretely, I had so much fun collaborating with Sandy and Shirley to make a zine, and with Charles on creating our essay correspondence!

In all, I hope by bringing together all of the fantastic work folks are already doing in their respective circles, we can make it easy for folks to both connect and start a process of self discovery to give us a better understanding of who we are, cultural heritage included, allowing us to nourish our own lives as well as know all that we have to offer as we share our whole selves with one another and the world.

I must say that I am grateful for this project put forth by Alternative Worlds because it allows the English-speaking world to experience Andean culture (the collection I’ve participated in). As a musician and artist I believe the Arts are the most accessible entry point into culture and cultural preservation. 

In my case from this project I hope more people who have seen themselves as “just” mestizos will find the courage to learn about their indigeneity, that musicians or musically inclined people of any background will perform my short piece in their recitals knowing its context and will give credit to me and Andean roots for its creation and hopefully a wider audience see that we live and colonization did not eliminate my indigenous Native American (South American people) Tawantinsuyu (Four Suyus or the Andean world). 

I feel blessed to be included in a collection of such gifted creators and artists and open for collaboration with I also hope will be possible in the future. Thank you, Gracias, Payllaa (Ancash/Central Quechua), Añay/Sulpayki (Southern Quechua), Pay Suma (Aymara)

Participating in this project, just going through the exercise of imagining a future based on different values, helped to shift my frame of thinking about what changes are possible. What I wish for people to take away from this project is encouragement to at least momentarily set aside what we think of as common sense and logic. If it can be imagined, it can be done. Believing isn’t a sufficient step but it is a necessary one. And I think art, fiction, these are all ways of giving structure the more fundamental exercise of stretching our imaginations. 

I’m really grateful to have my music and art included in this collection, and love that we got to stop and consider Andean conceptions of the future and its cyclical nature. Jallalla to the organisers who worked so hard to make it possible!

In considering the future, especially after the recent IPCC report, it is difficult to imagine one without burning horizons and absolute destruction and loss, an apocalyptic future that mainstream media and peak oil preppers alike anticipate in dreams and nightmares. But certainly it is important to look into the past, to look at how we once broke free from previously established orders, recovered and adapted some of their tools and created new ones, and somehow reforged ourselves into new versions. Knowledge of our biome within us, of all the microorganisms that we cohabit with and that transcend western concepts of finite life, means our Andean three spirits — our Jach’a, Jisk’a and Sullka Ajayus — can flourish. We are not limited in time because we are linked to everything that happened before and can happen in future, but we are here now and although this Pachakuti is a great clash, a time of great destruction, it is also the beginning of a new cycle. 

As this collection launches I will be in Glasgow, a city I was exiled to as a baby, like a mitma community sent by our invaders to a new inhospitable environment, but I was able to become a part of that place and discover and be there to help and work with the Minga Indigena, the gathering of indigenous delegates who are already arriving to Glasgow for COP26 as I write, each one from a different tribe across Abya Yala, to help  raise awareness and share the knowledge, art and stories so that we can mold the future. 

Minga is an ancient word, and like Ayni it is about shared work, this time between tribes, across cultures, where Ayni is that exchange with the elements, life and those directly around us, a Minga is that shared work we all have to do in a wider sense. In the same way the Chakana is not just a cross, but a sign in the stars that indicates the seasons, the work to do across those seasons, across our cultures, beyond our differences, for the good of mother nature, and for the society that we can build by coordinating together and figuring it all out again. 

I’m grateful for memory and tradition that has granted me inspiration to write. Often we recognize that our bodies, hearts, and mind hang onto the trauma and pain. But, our bodies, hearts, and minds also hang onto our ancestral memories. I remember once in college a professor told a classmate that nationalism was a lie, and my classmate panicked fearing that their entire identity was built on a lie. While nationalism may be a colonial lie, I knew that the connection to the land and the ancestral traditions practiced on our land were and will always be real. The fire in my heart as it comes alive when I hear our traditional music is memory. The affinity to experience others never had had to face is memory. The joy of dancing and wearing our traditional clothes is memory. No one can take any of it away. I honor my ancestors' knowledge and their collective memory living in me through my writing for the project. I am grateful for the opportunity and grateful for the ability to remember. 

I'm grateful for the chance to share my little story with the world, alongside so many brilliant artists who share my hyphenated identity. My webzine started out as a personal endeavor to make some sense of my hard drive full of travel photos and videos, and to put my fleeting memories into words before I forgot — I hadn't imagined that more than a handful of people might look at it. And now, seeing my story in this collection has given me greater perspective and reminded me of the power that my stories may hold, especially in chorus with other voices in the community. I hope this project can inspire someone to start creating and sharing, as even tiny and mundane stories are worth telling.

I’m grateful for this space and the opportunity to share my story and process. I find it very easy to talk with other members in this group and receive meaningful feedback, as well as learn how my experience resonates with their own. My work deals with my own narrative as I exist in the world, so I never thought about the “what if”s of an alternative reality that this project celebrates (I am now, though! :)). My project started from my art thesis in college and is gradually growing outwards as I view the other projects included here. I think it’s wonderful to see so many people like myself that are navigating through their identities in their own way and to see what media they transform that journey into.

This project means a few different things to me. It feels like a validation of the power of relationships and friendships even over long distances, and (especially so) through global pandemic Apocalypse. It also feels like one step towards a future that centers collaboration, creativity, community, joy, and reciprocity! 

I hope they take away a sense of awe at how dope our community is!! And a sense of love and inspiration from all of the different mediums of art and truth that was shared. And maybe some motivation to keep engaging and being involved with AltSalt as we continue to grow and evolve. 

I'm grateful for the core team, Art and Sandy! You both are such amazing people that I’m honored to know and work with. And for our entire community who submitted artwork and contributed their time and energy to this collection. And grateful for the Ayni institute for bringing  us together and rekindling the fire of our ancestors and for sharing the wisdom and teachings of the long view.

I’m so grateful for the connections this project has helped me cultivate, nurture, and grow. Because of Alternative Worlds, I’ve been able to learn about and connect with amazing artists; not to mention see, read, and experience incredible creative works! My horizons have been expanded in the best ways possible. Especially in this day and age where we are so inundated with the internet and technology (to the point where it can be hard to put your phone down and just be present), I find that having a resource like this one is more important than ever. I try to avoid mindless scrolling through social media, but sometimes social media is the only way to find and stumble upon awesome creators that inspire me. Projects like these, however, provide another way to connect with and learn from creators that is more intentional and community-centered, which I think we can all benefit from.

It’s been a beautiful journey getting to see this project come to fruition, and for sure one of the best parts was getting to work with Art and Shirley to develop a collaborative zine! I love the energy we have as a group and I have learned so much from both of you, as well as the greater AltSalt community as a whole. I can’t wait to continue the journey and see where our projects, collaborations, and community leads us next :)

This project was devised by Sandy Enriquez, Shirley Man-Kin Leung, and Artemio Morales in May 2021 as a means of making resources for our communities.

We first reached out to existing AltSalt members to create a promotional collage for our Call for Submissions.

After that, we published the open call on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter on June 15th, with a deadline of August 15th.

From July 17-18th, we held a workshop weekend of programming, including online workshops and discussion groups.

As we received final submissions around August 15th, Artemio began to design and program support for the different content types that would need to exist on the site to support the submissions.

Principal programming was completed in mid September, after which Artemio, Shirley, and Sandy began devising how to frame and present the collections.

In early October, contributors were invited to craft statements to accompany the collections and offer feedback on copy throughout the project. Preparations began for a launch event.

The collections were officially launched in November 2021.

A joint statement from contributors to the Andean and Asian American collections, speaking on what Alternative Worlds means to us.

Envisioning the Future

A piece about the conflicting experience of being disconnected from cultures that have faced so much adversity and colonization. It is about feeling intrinsically connected to these cultures and yet being so displaced from them.

i am a temple forged from sun
an army of iron shimmers from its
golden rays off a white cross
lodged into the beating heart of an empire

i am a dying kingdom
the bleeding sun’s old toy
its bloated bodies born from rotten pride
cast shadows on its land of pawns
like a mushroom cloud travelling by plane

i am of oceans apart
a dead culture, a dying language
a history clinging to its threads
starved of its power, forever writhing

i am empty water bottles
squeezed of worth and tossed aside
white plastic creases
curled over and aching

i am dust in rays of the sun
forever going and gone
yearning a time of no questions
kissing the relics of childhood

i am a temple forged from sun
an army of iron shimmers from its
golden rays off a white cross
lodged into the beating heart of an empire

displacement.

On "Different Folks" and Andean musical fusion

(Dear Charles #2) Cultivating Cultural Change

Here follows an interview with Alejandro Fernandez, an Aymara descendant and contributor to the Alternative Worlds Andean collection. Alejandro creates improvised and progressive psychedelic folk music and is a second generation refugee of the Chilean Pinochet dictatorship.

What inspired you to become a musician? What inspired you to become a part of AltSalt and submit?

I think partly my musical inspiration I know now, came from my father, who when a university student went on a tour playing guitar across the north of chile in a little bus in the 60s — and he just dabbled in guitar and could play a bit like Victor Jara, or Peña de los Parra — guitar based singer songwriting, mostly recuperating traditional tunes. I think it was this experience which made our house musical, and made my parents jump at the opportunity to have myself and my older brother join a children's Chilean exile music group, when we lived as exiles in 1970s Glasgow within a tiny Chilean minority. We played on the radio, for Amnesty International, at the city council halls, and were a regular act at Chilean solidarity events. My parents always encouraged that creative side, spending a lot of extra money on piano, guitar, musical theory lessons until I graduated from high school and studies took over.

When I saw the call to submit to AltSalt I felt right at home and had no idea what to submit but I really am grateful for you wanting to dedicate a blog to my musical work!

How does your relationship to the Andes figure into your work?

I always knew I was Aymara, that we were not just Chilean but had another thing, that was our grandma's — and that one side of the family had come down from the Chilean precordillera, from towns and villages at 3 or 4 thousand metres high, and before maybe we had come from the mines near Oruro.

I always treasured that aspect but thought it something almost lost, and only recently looked again for that Aymara identity as others rediscovered it, surprised by seeing so many Mapuche and Aymara flags at the chilean Estallido protests, and even more worldwide when after George Floyd's death there was such an awakening of decolonial thought, and I started seeing young people doing Zoom talks, or with social network presences telling about how they had gone back to their villages, and got their grandmas to teach them their language and culture again, in some cases then resulting in whole families regaining their lost language, which people like my Dad still wish he and his generation had never abandoned due to bullying and racism from "Chilenisation".

But it was only recently that I heard a recording of my other granddad, from the more Spanish, Catholic side of the family that is based around Santiago. That side of my family had been broken by various feuds between uncles and cousins, and I wanted to share something with the cousins I was still in touch with, and so I asked my parents for recordings of him. In the cassette recording from the early 90s he mentions the Camanchaca, the fog that crosses the north, and talks of having always been from La Serena.

I asked my parents about it, and my dad sent back a family tree done by a distant relative on myheritage.org which traces that line all the way back to the conquistador Francisco de Aguirre, exterminator of the Diaguita tribe. Not only did he wage war on people both sides of the Andes, but he also fathered huge amounts of children by raping indigenous women, for which he was taken to trial by the spanish virreinato. He even took part in the siege and looting of Rome and the vatican before taking off down south. My dream is to go back to Chile and travel north from Santiago to uncover more of those secrets that for many are no secret: https://www.amren.com/news/2019/11/conquistadors-tumble-as-indigenous-chileans-tear-down-statues/

We've read your belief about music wanting to be free, and are struck by the range of expression in your music — from classical quartet music to more experimental electronic, glitchy music with poetry on top. Can you tell us more about your creative process?

About musical freedom, I feel my journey has been similar to the decolonial one. I started out playing in rock bands led by a teacher or band leader, or where a composer wrote all the parts, sometimes in a positive way because there was a lot to learn, but also I felt that musical creation had to be colletively based, and loved the concept of art collectives and of creating work without some boss or replicating these top down structures where even the piece of paper is the winner. This led to musical improvisation, experimental improv and psychedelic music as a way to say no to all that, and explore instead the beauty of spontaneous creation, and of musical events where there is no centre or stage, where everyone can be both listener and creator.

I've always struggled to access good recording kit and avoided closed source proprietary software for making music, so I used Audacity, featurephone midi tracker apps, old tape based 4 track mixers, minidiscs, and nowadays bandlab - which is like an all in one version of all those other things, with a microphone and link audio mini bought from bandlab itself that plugs into my tablet and gives good enough recording quality to multitrack. Bandlab really helped me through quarantine as I couldn't meet and play with other people but now I'm hoping to start a band or group of some kind and play together again with others.

Also I wanted to add that although "music wants to be free" is a quote from a futurist — maybe Luigi Russolo about industrial noise and experimental music vs written/composed — that Andean music, when played in the Andes, usually is very strictly matched to the season and time of day, similarly to how Indian classical ragas also are written for specific seasons or settings, but in the Andes they also reflect shared work.

So although it should be free from prescribed order or a single master, it can be also be something done collectively by all and as an offering or part of shared work, an exchange or reciprocity with the season and the communal work required for that time. So maybe on my journey I broke free from music composed by a "leader" to be executed in some kind of hierarchy, to complete freedom of improvised experimental sound, then got more into the rules of traditional forms of melodic improvisation — like Indian or Scottish folk music but now I feel it would be so good for it to be an offering to accompany communal work as we did and some still do in the times of Ayni and Minga, maybe the kind of work we have to do in renewing and regenerating the earth after these times of colonisation and the dominance of extractive systems.

Why do you think it's important for everyone to realize they are musicians or artists and to create?

I think social networks, and some music apps and software always present this image of perfection, and are kind of too efficient at the wrong things, creating this idea that you have to be somehow different from or above the rest in order to make music. I think music can be used in many ways, to show grandiosity and how to stick to rules, but also like an expression of madness, of strangeness, like when everyone "dances as if no-one is looking", just expressing their own selves. I think it's therapeutic to let yourself go sometimes and express these things, and I would love to help people reach that inner decolonised person they have inside, that doesn't stick always to rules, but is a little bit wild and free.

You can find more of Alejandro's work on at his Chorus collection on Archive.org or his Bandlab.

Here follows an interview with Alejandro Fernandez, an Aymara descendant and creator of improvised and progressive psychedelic folk music.

Heritage, music, and creative freedom

Untitled

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMSXQDE8cS0 

Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1dtTkGTXLPskuK2T6i_vARm-c4xEosEUjFbsBcimmRlk/edit?usp=sharing 

Letter to Art #4 - Ukraine, Trans Rights, and Doomscrolling (March 2022)

Scroll Cinema — A Tool for Making Scroll-Based Media

Rima(y) Raíz is a community collective created by and for the Andean/Andinx1 diaspora community of the United States. Launched in 2018 in New York City and New Jersey, our collective now has members in California and Illinois. We are: <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/jamie_sa">Jamie San Andres</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/claudia.urd">Claudia Urdanivia</a>, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/sandycha">Sandy Enriquez</a>, Ben Kruse-Calla, <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/layqakuna">Layqa Nuna Yawar</a>, and <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/sbarretolastra">Stephanie Barreto-Lastra</a>, among others that come and go.

Rimay Raiz was created given the erasure and racist portrayals of Andean and Andean-descendant communities among both Latinx and white communities in the United States. Thus, our collective seeks to confront this discrimination and sense of dual exclusion by uplifting and sharing the stories and experiencies of our communities on our own terms, as a way of exposing and resisting the insidious ways that colonialism and imperialism continue to impose their binary and Western epistemologies on our bodies, minds, spirits, and communities, across time and across borders. This resistance is also represented in our name, which connects two sides of our cultural heritage by using the Quechua/Kichwa word ‘rimay’ (to speak) and the Spanish word ‘raíz’ (roots). We are speaking from our roots. Quechua/Kichwa is an ancestral Indigenous language of the Andes and remains one of the most widely spoken Native American languages in the Americas today.

Our goal is to (1) interview three generations across the US-Andean diaspora, from youth, adults, and elders, and include community leaders that have been carving spaces for our community for decades, be that cultural or political (2) archive the oral histories in a public website, (3) share and discuss our stories through multimedia, via a podcast, zine, public space installations, and Raymikuna or virtual parties in this pandemic era, and (4) organize gatherings to celebrate and unite Andean cultural advocacy efforts. Through these initiatives, we aim to reclaim a sense of identity, alter dominant narratives about our communities, preserve experiences and knowledge of our elders, and create a sense of solidarity across borders within the Andean diaspora.

Porque las historias nos llaman, las historias nos limpian y sanan, como el agua y neblina bendita de la montaña.

The last three years we have recorded 14 oral histories and published two zines, some of which are featured here.

 

Issue #1: Choclo y Chicha, self titled

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/listing/10/cover-10/Screen_Shot_2021-01-07_at_5.25.08_PM-original-489444.png"/>

In March 2020, Rimay Raiz launched <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/listing/choclo-y-chicha-vol-1/10">Choclo y Chicha</a>, a zine that shares the contributions of the Andinx diaspora through poetry, art, and storytelling. Both choclo and chicha are Quechua words for our ancestral foods of fresh corn and maize drinks, we chose them to reflect our cultural connections and create a space for a uniquely Andean zine. Chicha is also a type of music, Peruvian cumbia, that musicologists and sociologists claim emerged in the Amazon of Peru out of a sentiment of exclusion and otherness by dominant white, criollo elites.

We chose to include zines as part of our core mission because they would allow us to showcase creative, multimedia works from our communities on our own terms, without the need to compromise our vision through mainstream publishing. We also want to acknowledge the diverse ways that our communities express their thoughts, feelings, and experiences, some orally, while others visually or through text. We hope to distribute the zines widely and inspire others in our community to value and share their own stories and experiences through this, and other mediums.

Our first zine featured profound stories such as “Camino hacia la Boca del Lobo-Simiatug” by Jimena Vega, powerful poems such as “Mama Negra, Mama Tierra” by Mónica Carrillo Zegarra, and art by colectivo member Layqa Nuna Yawar, Lenny Correa.

Initially, our zine launch was scheduled to be an intimate event with members of the collective and fellow contributors for the zine, with music, food, and dance. Once the pandemic swept the globe, we made the decision to transition to a virtual event that could replicate this celebration while holding space for our community during this immensely difficult time. You can watch our first two Raymikuna, virtual parties on the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RimayRaiz" target="_blank">RR page</a> on Facebook.

 

Issue #2: Family Portraits

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/listing/9/cover-9/Screen_Shot_2021-01-07_at_4.33.36_PM-original-483649.png"/>

Our <a href="https://frontend.altsalt.com/listing/choclo-y-chicha-vol-2/9">second zine</a> focuses on the intersection of stories and memory through family photos. In this section we feature excerpts from the incredible oral history of Analisa Freitas and the beautiful poem by Marisol Silva, “when I make chicha morada and play your huaynos full blast, and I carry a backpack on the 7 train from Queens to Brooklyn brimming with jars of aji panca, aji amarillos, rocotos, I hold onto Ayni when I can’t remember words in any language, I hold onto Ayni, when I remember that who we are as a people is much too strong to ever be forgotten,” she writes.
 
Additionally, inspired by our colectivo member Jamie San Andres’ call to action, we are excited to also introduce a new section to our zine entitled Andean Political Reflections, that speaks to the issues and uprisings the Andean region has experienced in the last two years. It is impossible to do cultural work without addressing the political.

We invite you to join our Choclo y Chicha Zine Vol. 2 Raymikuna, virtual zine parties, this Sunday, January 10th from 4-6pm, to hear from contributors of the Family Portraits section, and Sunday February, 28th from 4-6pm, to hear from contributors of the Andean Political Reflection section.

 

Conclusion

To learn more about our work and stay in touch, please follow us @RimayRaiz on <a href="https://instagram.com/rimayraiz/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> and <a href="https://facebook.com/rimayraiz">Facebook</a>. We will also be launching our website in Summer 2021 which will feature our oral history archive, zines, and other projects. If you would like to get in touch about potential collaborations or have questions, reach out to us at <a href="mailto:rimayraiz@gmail.com">rimayraiz@gmail.com</a>. We would love to hear from you.

Until then, tupananchiskama!

 

<hr/>

 

1&nbsp;The Andean diasporic community includes people with South American heritage from Andean countries such as Bolivia, Ecuador, and Peru. Hence, Rimay Raiz utilizes the term Andean to refer to this region of South America, as opposed to folks that are strictly from the highlands. 
We remain inclusive of the many nationalities in the Andean region, and recognize that people that may identify with diverse backgrounds, such as that of the coast and the Amazon, Black Indigenous, and mestizo. We welcome all people who identify with our mission and background, whether they are recent immigrants, second generation, or have not connected to their ancestral countries for generations.

Rima(y) Raíz is a community collective created by and for the Andean/Andinx diaspora community of the United States.

Choclo y Chicha: a zine for (and from) the Andean Diaspora

<a href="https://anasomnia.com">Ana Somnia</a> is a meditation on what it’s like to dream. It’s also a piece that uses a single interactive element to draw us into an animated world, a clever decision that is minimalism at its best.

On the title screen, atmospheric sounds introduce us to Ana Somnia’s creepy Tim Burton-esque world. We promptly find ourselves inside a little girl’s bedroom. The girl, sitting up in bed, tells us to turn off the lights and goes to sleep. The piece then waits for our interaction, and we hear a music box playing in the background.



<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/3/anasomnia-2-1024x652.jpg">



It’s here that the clever trick comes out. To “turn off the lights,” you can spoil the fun and cover up your webcam with your hand; or, if willing to play along for a moment, you can turn off the lights in the room you’re physically in (yes, that involves getting up and turning the lights off in real life), to trigger the webcam into opening the rest of the story.

After doing so, Ana’s dream world comes alive, and we progress through a series of animated images, including strange creatures, tentacles, and assorted objects, as well as music and sound effects to match.



<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/3/anasomnia-3-1024x695.jpg">



For me, it’s the subtleties that really make this piece come alive. The world is nicely fleshed out, from the sound design and music down to the seemingly trivial details (in the opening scene, for example, hovering over the teddy bear will cause it to cover its eyes).

Also interesting is how much the webcam adds to the experience. It’s a great example of creating new kinds of artistic meaning with technology. This animation could’ve been a simple video… but isn’t it cooler when there’s interactivity involved?



<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/3/anasomnia-4-1024x648.jpg">



I always love to see artists doing interesting things with the technology at their disposal. Now this is just an idea, but it’d be great to see, for example, an e-book that uses the same webcam principle to add some extra immersion in telling its story.

Ana Somnia was created by German artist <a target="_blank" href="http://www.kimkoester.com">Kim Köster</a>. You can support him by purchasing Ana Somnia posters and other merchandise <a target="_blank" href="https://rostlaub.com">here</a>.

Ana Somnia is a meditation on what it’s like to dream. It’s also a piece that uses a single interactive element to draw us into an animated world, a clever decision that is minimalism at its best.

Get Lost Dark Ana Somnia

Turn out the lights and explore a dream world in Ana Somnia

I’m happy to announce that Resonating is freshly complete! This is a special kind of comment section that allows everyone to share appreciation with the creators of a publication. You can find it at the bottom of every listing!Resonating is a real-life practice used to cultivate deep listening and connection. On AltSalt, the idea is to use this practice to cultivate a welcoming environment encouraging everyone to connect in a way that centers positive exchange.We offer a few example prompts to use when resonating on publications, for example… - I resonated with you when... - I was right there with you when... - I really felt when... - I really appreciated...Every story we receive is a gift. To reciprocate with the receiving of that gift, we can offer storytellers resonance to let them know that we connected with them, that they were hard. Storytellers can then express their gratitude in return!In keeping with the spirit of Resonating, only original commenters and creators can reply to threads to center the act of listeners hearing a story, then offering resonance back, as this is how the practice is done in real life.This is all a large experiment, and I welcome your feedback!You can read more about the practice of resonating by clicking the “What is Resonating?” link at the bottom of every publication.My deepest gratitude to <a href="https://relationaluprising.org" target="_blank">Relational Uprising</a> for devising this framework, and to the <a href="https://ayni.institute" target="_blank">Ayni Institute</a> for sharing it with me, which I’ve have adapted for this platform.Looking forward to reading your resonance!

This is a special kind of comment section that allows everyone to share appreciation with the creators of a publication.

New feature now available: Resonating

Alternative Worlds: The Andes and Asian America

Mundos Alternatives: Los Andes y América Asiatica

This is the first in a series of posts to highlight members of the AltSalt community. First up we have Shirley Man-Kin Leung, a community organizer and yoga teacher based on traditional homelands of the Arapaho, Cheyenne, and Ute nations (Northern Colorado), as well as organizer behind the Asian American collection for Alternative Worlds.

In this series, we hope to showcase and celebrate the diverse perspectives and creative work of our communities, to learn, find inspiration, and share resonance with one another.

Tell us about yourself! How did you get involved with AltSalt?

I am a sister, a daughter, an auntie, an immigrant, a lover, a gardener, an artist and lover of life.

I got involved with AltSalt through my friendship with Artemio, although we haven’t (yet!) met IRL, we participated in this amazing 6-month long virtual course called Global Reciprocity at the Ayni Institute a few years ago, and have stayed connected ever since then. In that course, one of the things we did was work together to map our entire lineage and legacy of life as humans, to understand where we are, who we are, from 5 billion years ago to today… it transformed my life and that is where the seeds of a lot of my work today was born, and where AltSalt also was born!

What does Alternative Worlds mean to you, and why did you decide to organize an Asian American collection?

Alternative Worlds is about giving us the opportunity for "otra forma de ver" — other ways of seeing. We’re in this liminal space, between the ways things had been and an unknown future. I think it's our role, as artists, to be stewards of this in-between space, to be able to hold and see multiple worldviews and swirl them together and breathe into a reality another way of being. The only way to be with all of the contradictions and transitions we’re in right now, is through art and activism. I think that this is how we will be guided through a transformation process towards a collective awakening, moving us towards global reciprocity.

I wanted to organize the Asian American collection because, as a mixed race, Chinese, Filipino immigrant, who was adopted and raised by white American parents, my own healing journey has been about finding community to heal my own wounds and connect with my ancestors lessons for these times we find ourselves in.

Having a collection is about building community for artists, where we can look to each other in our different but common struggles for liberation, and say I see you, I know myself through your struggle, we are done appealing to the dominant white culture, instead we are prioritizing each other, first and foremost.

The silos we find ourselves in are designed by the empire, and it's exhausting constantly appealing to dominant culture or resisting the world coming at us hard, seemingly alone in our struggle, finding ourselves asking for crumbs... the alternative is, you create a community where you can look around and see our power and creativity and strength is immense, we can learn from each other, we can create a vision together, we can show up and show our strength in ways that are impossible to do alone, it's immensely hopeful!

The racist, colonial regimes are very clear about the world they want, they want the status quo. We’re less ready (in part by design I think) to declare the world we want, our imaginations are atrophied in part because of always being in a reactive / traumatic state of resistance. We must collectively put forth the world we want, that we deserve, that is our inheritance from these freedom fighters, our ancestors, we have everything we need to not only articulate that world but to build it, the constant affirmation that we are enough, we have what we need to be in relationship with one another in deep and meaningful ways to build that world.

What’s your own creative practice like?

My creative practice is hard to define because it takes so many different forms. Poetry has definitely been a guide for me though, and there is this quote by Nayira Wahid speaking to my own feelings and intentions around my creative practice right now:

“You do not have to be a fire for every mountain blocking you, you can be a water and soft river your way to freedom too”

I exercise my creative muscle as a daily practice, as a way of taking time to slow down and be intentional with where I’m putting my energy. I also consider my creative practices to be part of a larger whole of resilience practices, which our ancestors and communities have been cultivating to survive and thrive. I really do believe that we need to be just as rigorous in our play, pleasure and our joy, as other forms of work. When we are in a reactive state, we aren’t able to respond creatively, and that's by design.

Lastly, my creative practice is both playful and oftentimes silly, but it also serves a larger purpose and has been critical for me in my own healing journey. For example, I recently shared a piece of poetry I wrote about my mother’s mental illness and what it’s taught me about honoring joy and healing intergenerational trauma. Speaking about things directly is such a big shift from how I articulate through poetry, and it’s powerful to see different gifts each form has.

What do you think the role of art is in our culture?

I spend a lot of my energy and time thinking about cultural change. Changing our hearts, minds, body and spirits. Policy and social change can move really slow. What can make change happen is the people, and there are many instances of this happening in history (take the Mexican Revolution for one example). I believe that art plays a critical role in this aspect. I also think art has a role in spreading and sharing wisdom and knowledge. Sharing knowledge is about building power, not increasing paranoia. We need to understand what is the system we are up against, but the same way we want to study what we don’t want, we need to study, imagine, and create what we do want to see!

Artists are the stewards of our collective imagination. We need both imagination and memories. Artists can remember, reclaim and reframe; to find things that were lost and hidden on purpose and own and reclaim them through our creative practices.

When it comes to re-building, creating alternative worlds, I think the role of artists is to take the time to slow down to dream and be intentional around the world we want to see. How do we start to put those dreams and strategies into play and then practice? It’s not enough to just think about if we aren’t doing them, practicing! And remember that creating and sharing art is collective! The role of artists is about bringing people along with you, we can't do it alone, where are your homies at?

What do you hope participants get out of being a part of this?

A sense of community, some budding friendships, fresh ideas, support for your own creative practices, and just to have fun and be challenged in some new and exciting ways!

You can find out about Shirley's yoga practice here, and find the Call for Submissions for the Asian American and Andean Collections here. We also invite you to join us for our workshop weekend from July 17-18 th, 2021!

This is the first in a series of posts to highlight members of the AltSalt community. First up we have Shirley Man-Kin Leung, organizer behind the Asian American collection for Alternative Worlds.

"To Dream and Be Intentional" — Interview with Shirley Man-Kin Leung

The Birth of Andean Futurism

Bibliography of Andean Myths

Alternative Worlds Workshop Weekend Schedule

Poetry, in the popular imagination, is usually seen as a solo act. The lone poet bares their soul to the world, writes beautiful tortured lines, etc.

When it comes to electric literature, though, what happens a computer algorithm is thrown into the creative process? Does the computer get copyright? And, most importantly, does it get royalties?

Joking aside, some poets these days are embracing the digital and don’t necessarily write poems the old-fashioned way. Here are some innovative poems that turn the idea of poetry – and the solo poet – on its head.

 

1.) Taroko Gorge, by Nick Montfort, et al

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/5/taroko1-edited.png" width="723" height="571"/>

Taroko Gorge uses a computer algorithm to generate lines of poetry. The sidebar shows versions by writers who have hacked the code to make spinoffs.

 

At Taroko Gorge in Taiwan, Nick Montfort wrote a poem to celebrate the national park’s awesome beauty. Or, rather, in 21st century style, he wrote a computer program to make such poems for him.

The resulting work, <a href="http://nickm.com/taroko_gorge/" target="_blank">Taroko Gorge</a>, randomly chooses words from a list and endlessly assembles them into stanzas.


But Taroko Gorge is more than a single poem: it’s a platform that digital authors use to experiment, collaborate, and build new works. The code can be easily hacked to write any kind of poem imaginable. For example, in writer Flourish Klink's spinoff, <a href="http://nickm.com/taroko_gorge/fred_and_george/" target="_blank">Fred &amp; George</a>, Taroko Gorge transforms into a Harry Potter fanfic about an encounter between the twins and their… um, “wands.”

The poem’s sidebar lists many authors who have taken up the challenge of hacking Montfort’s original JavaScript code. (My own version, <a href="http://nickm.com/taroko_gorge/54_61_72_6f_6b_6f/" target="_blank">54_61_72_6F_6B_6F</a>, can be found on the page as well.)

 

2.) Pentametron, by Ranjit Bhatnagar, et al

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/5/pentametron1.png" width="750" height="746"/>

Move aside, Shakespeare! Make room for... a Twitter bot!

 

"I’m just a squirrel looking for a nut 
You are a wizard harry i’m a what 
Glad to believe in #Jesus, He’s the best… 
From Fresno to Pomona fuck the rest" 
-A couple of random retweets, by Pentametron

Though these couplets have the right rhythm and the rhyme, no, they aren't authentic Elizabethan prose – they were actually strung together by a computer program.

Along with thousands more, these couplets  are the product of <a href="https://twitter.com/pentametron?lang=en" target="_blank">Pentametron</a>, a Twitter bot by <a href="http://moonmilk.com/" target="_blank">Ranjit Bhatnagar</a> that automatically retweets rhyming lines that users have written, consciously or otherwise, in iambic pentameter.

This raises the question, who “wrote” this endless epic poem?

Was it the Twitter users whose fragments were appropriated and put in a different context? Was the “author” the program itself? Or is Ranjit Bhatnagar the author of the work, even though he wrote none of the prose by himself?


 

3.) The Last Performance, by Judd Morrissey, et al

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/5/last-performance-1.png" width="1226" height="970"/>

The Last Performance is a poem whose structure is based on a cathedral. Here, we see a zoomed-out view of the "dome" and just a few of the "lenses" that constitute it.

 

<a href="http://thelastperformance.org/cupola_triads.php" target="_blank">The Last Performance</a>, by <a href="http://www.judisdaid.org/" target="_blank">Judd Morrissey</a>, is a digital poem based on architecture. (Note: If using a mobile device inside the piece, tap each link twice to proceed.)

Specifically, The Last Performance is about the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagia_Sophia" target="_blank">Hagia Sophia</a>, a Byzantine cathedral that was converted to a mosque and eventually to a museum. In Morrissey’s textual cathedral, though, words don’t only provide meaning – they also define space.

In the mainstay of the piece, the reader encounters the “dome” of the poem, which consists of thousands of “lenses,” or texts, that were contributed by readers, writers, and collaborators.

Each word in a lens is a hyperlink that leads to another lens. The result is a labyrinthine structure that can be traversed in any number of ways, allowing the visitor to encounter any number of poems written by any number of authors.


 

4.) Bicycle Built for 2000, by Aaron Koblin and Daniel Massey, et al

<img src="https://altsalt.s3.amazonaws.com/catalog/article/5/cover-5/bicycle-888413.png" width="1041" height="720"/>

Bicycle Built for 2000, a performative digital piece, was created by more than 2000 anonymous workers from around the world.

 


	<a href="http://www.bicyclebuiltfortwothousand.com/" target="_blank">Bicycle Built for 2000</a> is the product of 2000 people around the globe working together, albeit without knowing it. (Note: It requires Flash.)


Through Amazon’s <a href="https://www.mturk.com/mturk/welcome" target="_blank">Mechanical Turk service</a>, hired workers were given a short audio clip and tasked with recreating it with his or her own voice. Put together, these thousands of samples recreate Daisy Bell, a popular song from late 1800s.

Interestingly, Daisy Bell was previously used in 1962 to demonstrate the invention of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speech_synthesis" target="_blank">computer speech synthesis</a>. Part of the project of Bicycle Built for 2000, then, is to reverse that formula, using countless human voices to create something digital.


 

So there you have it!

Four digital poems that play with the idea of poetry, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Bookmark us or follow us on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thisisaltsalt/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/thisisaltsalt?lang=en" target="_blank">Twitter</a> to learn more about exciting developments happening in digital literature!

When it comes to electric literature, though, what happens a computer algorithm is thrown into the creative process? Does the computer get copyright? And, most importantly, does it get royalties?

4 Digital Poems That Will Make You Rethink What Poetry Is

(Interview)

So I’ve been playing around with creating my own tocapu, or pattern based on Andean sacred geometry. I’ve been inspired by the Andean Futurist Manifesto, and also this idea of fractality, shapes and ideas repeating, reflecting, and refracting on themselves, ad infinitum.

Something I learned from Zadir Milla Euribe, an educator from Peru from who I first began learning about Andean design and cosmovision, is how to begin reading the patterns of the earth and sky.

Tocapus like this one, designed with inspiration from Andean sacred geometry, are intrinsically connected with Andean cosmovision and dialogue with the planet

In the way one can see patterns repeated in nature, from the similarity of the branches of a tree to the bronchi of the lungs, to the spirals in a seashell and the spiral arms of a galaxy, in the tocapus one can see the patterns in small segments repeated in the larger segments.

This is because life itself is dynamic, a spiral — and you can see this play out even in history. Everything is always changing yet circling back on itself, evolving with similarities but transformed — what has happened will come again, and everything is similar yet nothing is the same.

When you walk up to the peak of a mountain, or stand beside a lake, if you look closely and choose to see it, you may see the patterns of clouds represented also in the treeline, and repeated again in the shape of a stone on the ground, and repeated against the horizon — everything always speaking, always dialoguing — this is how the world, how the universe speaks.

The ancestors of the Andes understood this, which is why their architecture takes on natural forms that, in the same way they saw the world speaking to them, attempts to speak with the world. That’s the reason the Nazca lines take on the massive shapes of animals. That’s the reason tocapus have that same characteristic of circling, repeating, the whole contained within the parts.

I’ve come to understand that perhaps this is beyond reason, and when you look at the clouds and see the shapes of animals and objects, perhaps it is all in our imaginations, or perhaps it is also the world thinking, dreaming, and imagining, and trying to speak to us.

In the practice of working with the tocapus, it’s another way of seeing, that’s for sure. It’s not a vision that sees the natural world as a resource to be analyzed, broken down, exploited. And yet maybe it’s this very way of seeing that will allow us to imagine another reality, to speak and create — in contrast to what we know — in reciprocity with the earth.

This is because life itself is dynamic, a spiral — and you can see this play out even in history. Everything is always changing yet circling back on itself, evolving with similarities but transformed.

Andean Sacred Geometry

What is Resonance?

A couple of days ago, I came to Pennsylvania to visit my parents and meet the newest addition to our family, a four-month old puppy named Bruno.

After a 2.5-hour trip out of New York, I arrived among the blossoming trees and cold spring of the Poconos. Getting out of the car into the quiet woods, so different from the bustle of the city, I breathed in the crisp air. It felt, as it always does, like breathing for the first time.

The neighborhood road outside my parents' house in Pennsylvania.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting on coming here. I do know that when I saw Bruno, my world froze as I saw his Irish Setter chocolate eyes, wiry frame, and red-orange fur. I knelt down to pet him, he jumped on me in excitement and my mind and body were instantly transported to the past.

Bruno lying down after an impromptu play session with a bunch of old blankets.

I’d grown up with an Irish Setter too, one that passed away 10 years ago. Seeing Bruno reminded me of physical memories I didn’t even know I had, recalling sensations from when I was nine years old playing with my first puppy.

Things are different now. Yet I’ve been thinking about the different portals we have to our memories, how the present is always intersecting, coexisting, recreating with the past.

This 2000-year-old fabric and its mesmerizing shapes was on display at an Andean textile exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum.

At the Brooklyn Museum, I once attended an Andean textile exhibit, seeing mantles woven 2,000 years ago. Following mesmerizing masterful figures and geometric patterns in the cloth, I recall how the pieces felt so familiar and foreign at the same time.

Inherently, we’re not so different from cultures of a thousand years ago. Yet everything is always in a process of change, akin to proceeding in spirals — what has happened reverberates in the present, transformed, circling back on itself, repeating and digressing — recalling, reinventing, ad infinitum.

I do know that when I saw Bruno, my world froze as I saw his Irish Setter chocolate eyes, wiry frame, and red-orange fur. I knelt down to pet him, he jumped on me in excitement and my mind and body...

Reverberating with the past

(Dear Charles) The Shape of Our Future

A short story about legacy, revolution, and obliquely, terraforming Mars. Also contains a dumpling recipe.

The morning of the ritual, my fathers assured me there was no need to be nervous. One reminded me I would have all the time I needed. The other said nothing, only tugged gently on my earlobe, to remind me of where I bit my grandmother the first time I met her and that we still laughed about it at family gatherings.

In truth, my nai nai, my grandmother, was a jovial woman who alleviated her rare bad moods with marathon cooking sessions that earned her a legendary status within the neighborhood. She promised me a simple conversation, but I knew it was more, this beginning of my journey into adulthood, the first time I would be listening to a story as its caretaker rather than its recipient.