Here’s what I’ve been up to since I got the Tiptree fellowship. I made Miniskirt World Network: Business Slut Online, a video/music hypertext about a femme vaporwave world where fashion is a basic computer peripheral. I wanted to evoke the contradictory tensions of feminine-coded clothing and the weird emotional textures that come with it.
I’m in this year’s Whitney Biennial, where they’re showcasing some of my most popular stories. Pics here.
I have an exhibit in San Francisco called marshmallowfungusbugponygirlswampwar. It’s about this endless swamp war of girls suffering and dying and loving and the centerpiece is this randomly generated battle report. It runs til August (details here) and you can find pics/footage here.
I made a short story kinda like Nancy Drew but with sapphic rivalry.
I spearheaded a study on the Universal Mental Illness Value of Food.
I made a collection of writing called Everyone I Know Wants To Be Castrated and Kill Their Family.
I’m working on things set in the With Those We Love Alive universe, and mysterious glitchgem collabs with friends.
Tiptree was a woman who had to pretend to be someone else so she could make cool things. Self is a luxury. You either have the luxury or you grift it. Catch it in corners, hoard up the seconds like grain, burn cryopod fuel to slingshot the sun.
Right now there’s a lot of pressure to completely repress or completely expose yourself. But for feminine lifeforms/necroforms who don’t want to just compress into a hellfeels Dyson sphere or a living lens flare of psychosis, we get like, a fucked up choice, every day of our lives. When we have to turn our precious cute brains into supercomputers for calculating the impossible algorithms of harm…that’s how you get that sweet xenofemicidal radiation in your bones.
I’m inside a narrow window of history where I bizarrely survived 10,000% thanatos supercharge through freak genetics and you can read some stuff people will either finally succeed at vaporizing me for or get bored and absorb me into the MemeFleshCashHell.
It’s lucky and crazy and whatever. I’m stranded on a salt planet devoid of materials, and no one knows what advice to give you if you’ve decided to opt out of using humans as fuel. The entire process is extremely inefficient and delusional and chemically volatile. That’s the most I can say about it.