In Residence

Cecilia Vicuña’s painting from 1972 “Amaranta"
The Amaranta Project

Featuring 6 micro-fictions and 5 poems inspired Cecilia Vicuña’s 1972 “Amaranta” which was “lost and reborn” when found in 2021. The Chilean artist-poet-activist writes simply as an introduction to her work, “My work dwells in the not yet, the future potential of the unformed, where sound, weaving, and language interact to create new meanings.”

Time Travel

after years of searching, i found you
without knowing I was searching, i found you

Combination of Cecilia Vicuña’s “Amaranta” (1972) and photo by Ankhesenamun
Awake

“When you sleep your life away,” she continued, pointing at me with her garden gloved pinky, “you miss the world, you go someplace else.”

Combination of Cecilia Vicuña’s “Amaranta” (1972) and photo by Larisa Birta
Germinates

But the next day, against all expectations and formalities, she grew, her limbs narrowed, her torso expanded, her chest widened, her mouth opened, her tongue saw the light and her voice made itself heard.

brunch with ama, the teacher & the imp

my head because if she’s going to eat with us she needs a nickname & she has to be our friend. one woman is the imp-

Combination of Cecilia Vicuña’s “Amaranta” (1972) and photo by Elena Kloppenburg
Answer

One day she flew to Australia. She understood that there was no such thing as an island. She returned. She felt better in the air, out of reach and already deafened.

Unfading [Poem]

dances      
swirls on spiraled staircases       sips       on sun flowered
water.     I am here with you           victorious   

a guitar made of telephone wire

reaching &
yes
remembering facts that dance with color
that breathe shades & hues & vibrate
sing

Combination of Cecilia Vicuña’s “Amaranta” (1972) and photo by Jr Korpa
Your Daughter Refashions the Flag into a Crop Top

Cecilia once told me she had to choose between poetry and painting, but she no longer believes this and is recovering what was stolen, rejected, lost. You bequeath to your daughter what was left of the flag, and rejecting its unflattering form, she refashions it into a crop top to show off her midriff. She’s on the verge of something, that beautiful precipice.

Combination of Cecilia Vicuña’s “Amaranta” (1972) and photo by Kirill Sharkovski
Unfading [Story]

Their rage so loud she stopped hearing it. Telephone wires ran through her body and tugged her in different directions the way exile does. The way the world falls and the sea begs when love limps. The way numbers climb the wind like death tolls when oppressors are free.