joanie appleseed

@solidarity

erudite dumbass; a dark but common horse; & yet, ritually-minded see also: @imprecision.art § 🪻🏋🏽‍♀️🌽🟪 § seattle §

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¿Es tu perfil?Reclámalo y solidarity.dirty.social es tuyo.Reclamar perfil

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jul 11

eina með öllu, náttúrulega

my tattoo of an icelandic hot dog, which implies pylsusinnep (being squeezed by a hand from a bottle), remoulade, and crispy fried onions

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jul 10

this, this i already knew 😤

screenshot of my "letterboxd besties" results. my top 4 are A NEW LEAF (eileen myles, 1971), WINGS OF DESIRE (wim wenders, 1987), ARREBATO (ivan zulueta, 1979), and THE COLOR OF POMEGRANATES a.k.a SAYAT-NOVA (sergei parajanov, 1969). no one has the same top 4 as me and my taste is too unique no one has 3 out of the 4 in their top 4 either.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jul 9

this would go hard with this hat

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jul 2

remember when i had never listened to autechre? well, @shaneparish.bsky.social changed that a few months ago, and now i am about to see shane play a show

i'm in an ithq hoodie with a mask and my glasses on the top of my head flashing a peace sign. red light is cast upon me

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 24

leg day? leg day.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 20

send some fucking poods

a beige acid washed tshirt that says "send poods" in all caps cooper black and a deadlifting poodle

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 16

dj freermasonry does it again. "operation: bloomsday" complete. #ulysses

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 16

« if the oil fields of…countries [including mexico] that had decolonized Western capital between the 1920s and 1970s were to be recolonized…a whole new wave investment must be injected to make them profitable. » midnight notes, "recolonizing the oil fields," in _midnight oil_ (autonomedia, 1992)

The war was not just a symbolic beginning for the New World Order, it was a very real beginning with substantive effects. The war and its aftermath centered around the commodity that has been the fulcrum of class relations internationally in the post-WWII period: petroleum. In this new era of recolonization, the oil commodity posed a paradox to capitalist development: if the oil fields of the Persian Gulf nations, the Soviet Union, Mexico, Angola and the other countries that had decolonized Western capital between the 1920s and 1970s were to be recolonized or "enclosed," then a whole new wave investment must be injected to make them profitable. Yet the statist regimes that would be receiving this new investment had to be hardened to reject any demand by the proletarians in and around their oil fields for a share of the new wealth they would be producing. Moreover, the proletarians themselves would have to be terrorized into accepting a life of extreme poverty amidst vast accumulations of wealth.

This Gordian Knot of class contradictions was decisively cut by the whole spectrum of violence and terror available to contemporary capi-talism, from the bombs burning Baghdad residents in the depths of air-raid shelters, to the tanks the Ba'thists used to crush rebels in Basra, to the CIA torture techniques tormenting Palestinians in post-war Kuwait. The war created the greatest mass layoff in recent times; a qualitative change in the militarization of the Mideast oil industry; a re-engineering of Mideast class relations; a jump in investment capital (due to the oil price rise); and a completely decimated and dominated country (Iraq) that will serve as the new lesson for those governments that are incapable of fulfilling capital's demands for austerity and recolonization. Whether this great "solution" will create the conditions for an even more inextricable knot is the question for the struggle of the next decade.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 15

alexandra grieve, "surface tensions: race, costume and the politics of texture in claire denis's _chocolat_ (1988)", film, fashion & consumption 10(2), 2021 www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttGm...

To return, cyclically, to the film's 'present', Denis's enigmatic ending once again invokes fashion and materiality as a means to problematize colonial social hierarchies. Protée - or an unnamed character played once more by Isaach de Bankolé - is mysteriously reintroduced to the narrative in the guise of an anonymous labourer, undifferentiated from his co-workers in the uniformed combination of a slate grey shirt and trousers. As the weather begins to turn, the assembled group - laughing and talking - appear to blur, in their grey uniforms, into a light haze of tropical rain. The group is largely framed from somewhat of a remote, detached distance, rendering their animated conservation inaudible to the viewer. It might thus be tempting to interpret the scene as a re-inscription of the workers into abstracted, instrumental form, 'commodities to be sold in the marketplace', as Laurie Edson suggests (2015: 121), but this scene does not quite accommodate such direct readings. Clothing, in this instance, enacts a playful obfuscation of the workers' identities, which compounds the already considerable opacity of Denis's choice to introduce three characters without any clear narrative relation to the rest of Chocolat. As Morgan suggests, in this sequence 'we are no longer privileged participant/observers but mere strangers: |...] accidental tourists at a foreign airport' (2003: 159). Once more, Denis questions the capacity of the colonizer's gaze (discharged first by Aimée, in this sequence by the adult France) to instil order, knowledge and limits, just as the alchemical fixity of the colonial construction of difference is again problematized. Ghost-like, moving fluidly between historical periods and then melding into the grey rain-slicked landscape, Protée's identity is instead materially and ontologically pliable, open to alternative spatio-temporal trajectories just beyond our grasp.

No longer a linear, flattened map of imperial conquest, Chocolat's portrait of postcolonial Africa now takes on unpredictable, multidirectional possibili-ties. At the scene of her departure, William Park takes France's hand to read her palm to divine whether or not she should return to Mindit. This is a futile gesture: years before, as a child, Protée had refused to warn young France about the scalding heat of a generator pipe, and he placed his palm on it knowing that she would blindly copy his gesture. As a result, both palms were mutilated. Unable to'read' the scarring, William declares her palm'strange and advises her not to return. Here, once again, the politics of (neo) colonialism is inscribed epidermically as a network of indelible bodily scars, however, this is also the point at which this representational surface is least legible. Touching hands without knowing the outcome, France's final encounter with William, like Protée's 'refashioned' appearance at the airport, is a suggestion of the potential of the textural to playfully test the epistemological limits of a coloni-ally governed, rationalized world. With these fabricated images, Chocolat urges a reconsidering of its images as open material histories that move in ditfuse and contingent directions, rather than as a sequence of static ready-formed events and identities.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 14

no training montage today but i have some photos of rat art my friends made to induce you to donate to my pride deadlift party fundraiser. i'm more than 50% to my goal and currently in first place for individual fundraising and fourth overall. help make number go up! givebutter.com/seattle-prid...

the latest hot rat summer mosaic, "community is the water of love, with 3 pigeons on/near a bird bath, a rat with a golden halo, blue sky, and green grass, with roses in trans colors on the floor beneath it

a painted wood sculpture of a rat being passed a hot dog through a glory hole. my friend karl aka bed by ten did this one, and karl gave me my hot dog, oyster, and olives tattoos

a painted street sign that says "rat ahead"

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 14

start with the purple rat

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 13

join slate plus to access this article?

avengers: endgame meme of elderly steve (captain america) saying "no, i don't think i will"

i always thought this was supposed to be joe biden

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 11

@maeveynot.online and i went to go see her read when i was visiting and i'd seen chatter about plastic, prism, void, but when i bought it and finally cracked it open i was like

the panel from junji ito's "the enigma of amigara fault." you know, the "this is my hole" one.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 11

hmm

the "borat 2 tonite" meme that looks like an onesided imessage interaction from the other party except it says "bean tattoo" instead of "borat 2"

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 10

jane wong on theresa hak kyung cha: poeticsofhaunting.com/index.php/po...

On September 2nd, 2016, I visited the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive.
There, I encountered many of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha's (1951-1982) archival pieces, including her work in book arts such as Pomegranate Offering and Father/Mother, a glass jar piece that felt like a small universe, poems on cards and envelopes she sent to friends and family via mail, and striking film work such as Exilée and Permutations. Her voice - soft and intimate - reverberated throughout the room. Above, the book Father/Mother is bound by a thin red string. When you open the piece, you see alternating images of Cha's parents - printed in bright blue and pink ink. Held on its side, the book opens like a fan. Much of her work opens like this - with generosity, a kind of "Multiple Offering" as she writes. I've written about Cha's influence on me as a poet in Literary Hub - in particular, the permission she gave me to create constellations of memory. This visit to her archives was timely; in 1982, Cha was tragically murdered in New York City. At the time, she was 31 years old and I too am 31. I felt a strong pull toward her in this year of my life. Cha is part of my creative lineage and I celebrate the conversations I have with her - across time and space. When taking notes on her work, I turned to a blank page in my notebook and noticed it had a large piece missing from the top corner. This tear took me by surprise. In DICTEE, Cha writes: "The memory is the entire. The longing in the face of the lost. Maintains the missing." How strange, this missing corner, now full. Below are two pieces in conversation with Cha: "Our Barter" and "Can't Speak."

OUR BARTER
If I ring a bowl of water, where will the sound go?
What light will carry us across these shores?
To wade, to wait upon, to wax and wan until we are wanted?
What have we forgotten?
Each morning, the starting out, the ant crawling out of the sink.
We live here too.
Wax melts away each word we say.
Do you have the time it takes for a fire to be put out?
Is there any country without fear?
A cloud fills the screen, or is it smoke?
The blind sees, the blind sea, you say. Aveugle Voix.
I am clearing a forest in order to see you better.
What can you see?
Yes. Pomegranates, voice, permutations, a cave, a curled mouth.
For this, I give you this.
Let us throw everything we know into the ocean.
Let us listen to its churning: our curious grief.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 10

[repeating photos for those on blacksky 2/2]

In reframing intimacy, Berlant addresses the enigmatic realm of intimacy that is "attached" to the social reality of hegemonic public space." She addresses, especially, how in the United States the relation between "desire and therapy [has] become a modern, mass-mediated intimacy. "2 For example, she points out there is a fantasy about private and personal life that is "real" in contrast to collective and public lifebeing the life that is shown in the public space. In the relation between personal and public, social attachment functions as crucial mediation: no matter what type of ideal or utopian private intimacy exists, as human beings, we are doomed to be attached to social and practical reality, including meals, shelters, and other necessary conditions that are intrinsic for maintaining life that are provided through social institutions and infrastructure. While critiquing the modern formulation of the relation between intimacy and public, she nonetheless sees the potential from the domain of intimacy that can go beyond culminating with usual attachment to conventions. She hypothesizes the question: "what happens to the energy of attachment when it has no designated place?"54

While Berlant's explanation of intimacy is based on actual social life, I see this potential of intimacy from Markings as generating certain aesthetics that do not follow conventional forms of social

attachment. The contiguity of the word and image (smudge) and material (paper background) from Markings' prototypical social attachment could be: language as narrative or a story to deliver message to the reader; image as representation of things in life; paper as support to make the story and image readable and visible. But by being touched, these meanings of social attachment as signs are betrayed and become something else. The meaning of the words "bruise" and "black and blue" with their social link with violence toward the marginalized still have connotation without total cancellation that is attached to the social; however, the aesthetics of intimacy between words, things and bodies (of circulation) bring us somewhere else. The intimacy of the "formative encounters"56 of the things in Markings that are attached to the collective social, in Berlant's terms, "names the enigma of this range of attachment," and further "poses a question of scale that links the instability of individual lives to the trajectories of the collective."57

The spectrum of meaning of social attachment here in Markings, in fact, does not stay in the aesthetic ground as mere imagination or symbolic gesture. It incorporates actual circulation of the work to the viewer/reader as part of the medium of the work. In this way, Markings moves beyond the boundaries of its own artistic frame and actively participates in the social sphere, creating a porous exchange between art and lived experience.

As I mentioned, it is not simply that text becomes materialized or vice versa. Rather, in Markings, the interplay between textuality and material form becomes inseparable from the work's circulation through time and space. The project consists of a series of mailed postcards hand-stamped with simple markings and phrases that Cha sent from France to her family members in the United States between 1975 and 1976 while she was studying at Centre d'Études Américaines du Cinéma in Paris. These postcards carry visible evidence of their travel: handwritten addresses, postage stamps, franking marks,

and traces of wear. The work thus exists both as a material record of transnational communication and as an aesthetic gesture that traverses intimate and public spaces.

In this sense, Markings is a project of mobility, not only metaphorically, but logistically and emotionally. Its circulation enacts a crossing of boundaries: between geographic locations (France and the U.S.), between private correspondence and public artwork, and between art and life itself. By sending these cards through the postal system, Cha made the act of delivery part of the work's medium. Art enters everyday networks of communication, and those very networks familial, bureaucratic, temporal-become the infrastructure of the artwork. Markings does not merely represent movement; it performs it. And through this performance, the work enacts a relational space where art is not set apart from the world, but enmeshed within it.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 10

[repeating photos for those on blacksky 1/2]

a page image of theresa hak kyung cha's "markings". wrapped in a manila cover, white pages. left: a blank verso. right: a plain white page with the word "bruise" stamped in the dead center, abraded to be barely visible.

an image of the cover of theresa hak kyung cha's artist book "pomegranate offering"; ink stamped on linen, hand-sewn with thread. the text on the cover is:

POMEGRANATE offering

mouth with red
red tears [with red {upside down and visually mirrored}]
blood pearls {upside down and visually mirrored}

another page from "pomegranate offering".

left recto (all reversed, black ink):

on
tear
un in
torn

a tied
tearing
a tide

right recto (all right side up; black text, the word "distortion" when it appears is inked over with red ink)

by GRACE devotion
by GRACE distortion

this and following images are page images from ina choi on theresa hak kyung cha's "markings," in _ephemeral, visceral: feeling through form(less)_, dissertation, university of pennsylvania, 2025.

While it may appear to be a simple gesture, the word bruise, its material relation to the paper through the smudged stain, and its circulation as a private, intimate exchange complicate conventional boundaries between medium, genre, and social relation. The ripple effects of this event are not unidirectional. The word does not merely become material, nor is the material surface simply subordinated to the function of carrying text. Instead, language and material cohabit the space of the page
in a state of mutual tension. Neither yields entirely to the other's logic: the word bruise retains its semantic weight even as it is visually disrupted, and the smudged paper asserts its physical presence
without fully dissolving the legibility of the text.

In this way, both the textual and material "bodies" maintain a partial autonomy. They interact, overlap, and affect each other, but without collapsing into a singular, unified identity. This precarious cohabitation is central to the affective force of the work: it resists resolution, insisting instead on the friction between form and content, legibility and trace, language and matter.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 10

presumably before, given my demeanor

screenshot from the "i work very hard, and i would like to try cake" onion piece written by a horse.

So you see, it is clear that you must give me cake. I am a nice horse. I do not fuss. I do not bite the human woman's face, even though her hair smells nice. I do not ask to go live free in the woods like the deer. I do my duties. I must try cake. Please.
Hnnnnnnn. Heeeee-huh-heeee! Just give me the cake.
Please. I am begging you. I am showing you my teeth and stomping my hooves so you know that I want the cake. Prrrrrft! Prrrrrft! I must have it, do you see? I am standing on my back legs and screaming due to needing the cake.
Please, humans. Please. Please! I am a good horse. Hmmrrr, nrrrrffff! Put a cake on a table right now. I wish with all my heart that you will do this for me. So you must give it to me.
Because 1 am the good horse. I am a good horse and I deserve cake.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 9

busy watching people worry about extractive industries

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 8

friends, enemies, frenemies & co.: i am once again in the pride deadlift party to raise funds for Seattle queer orgs! donate if you can and spread the word. (video evidence of last year's lifts included.) https://givebutter.com/seattle-pride-deadlift-party-2026-7z4jfa/send-poods-1/mariadolores

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 8

"broke my deadlift PR"

A pink-haired woman whispering in a dark-haired woman’s ear while caressing her neck, captioned “post the four words every girl wants whispered in her ear”

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 8

hannah markley, "philately on the telephone"

"Incineration" and "burning" are the products of touching one another with words. The injunction to "burn everything" suspends legibility and illegibility, because it is a figure that demands to be read yet disrupts its own reading; burning appears only insofar as it haunts and recursively undoes "the single event of understood language." Derrida names the impossibility of legibility at the moment of any reading or touching with words: "But I will arrive, I will arrive at the point where you will no longer read me" (PC, 59). We might gloss the arrival as "I will touch you at the moment of my incineration." That is, Derrida arrives, becomes legible, only insofar as he resists any reading.
He touches with the utterance "do not read me" Derrida does not literally suggest that we should stop reading, but rather, that we only ever read or touch insofar as we understand reading, in-terpretation, and touching as the possibility of always not read-ing, of missing one another entirely. Derrida loves the stamp, the timbre or resonance, even at the moment of transgressing its law and commanding his addressee, and by extension, all his reader-interceptors, to "burn everything." To burn is to love.

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 6

they make event venues for girls like me now

a flyer for an event called "brick park & soccer sounds" at a venue called brick park which is likely happening as a "queer-friendly" "event" along side the seattle world cup matches

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 6

yourself but as a cartoon

amethyst from steven universe looking grumpy

joanie appleseed@solidarity· Jun 4

« it does not withhold its identity behind its shatters: it is itself the eruption of their multiplicity…[it] does not simply cut across, it cuts itself across itself, it arrives and arrives at itself as that by which nothing arrives, except that there is "arriving," arrival and departure … »