Zainab and Larissa share some ideas.

Image of a seed cycle of life.

A poem exploring spirits. Originally published in Briarpatch Magazine, March 2021.

Drums & Vocables Composer: Mshkiki Gitikaan Kwe Performers: Healing With Drums

Shyamali Khastagir was an extraordinary painter and activist. She is also, simply, my Mashi (aunt). This is one of my attempts to paint like her. This day I was just trying to draw eyes and find the flow of lines. When I looked closer, there was so much more.

Urban Libation; A Song in Stills You had to be there to hear it.

The Arrivals journey was an opening up. Without seeking her, my maternal grandmother came to me. During the embodiment exercise our worlds collided, her presence merging with mine. With this video I aim to illustrate the meeting of two selves, two timelines: her, the past; and I, the present.

AGOGO AYO (gongs of joy or bells of joy) The 2 indigenous musical instruments used in this music are significant and philosophical among the Yorubas. Whenever Agogo or sekere is played, it signifies joy, it produces sound of joy.

By Lydie Dubuisson. Created during the Arrivals’ Seedpool; Moving Together Arriving Together residency at Prismatic Arts Festival 2023 in Kjipuktuk/Halifax.

Every seed has a source… And it reproduce new seeds like itself

Kim and Larissa discuss collaborating

Excerpt from solo performance I created with ALP sourced material and resilience.

Dear Data 2 – Making Something That Isn’t Food – February 2025

On managing activations of ancestral trauma: from the Mayan calendar to extra-dimensional downloads.

First draft of a song about my experience learning languages.

i sat by the red sea in 2023 the waters & the aliveness within healed my body-spirit this is some of what they spoke to & through me

Braided and Spiraled wire structure suspended on the land on a cold winters night. My sister June is receiving these still images and video images, that I am directing her to take for the first time. This collaboration reminds me about our connections in these wild webs we weave together/apart.

Morning thoughts and poetry The words came in one wave I now wonder how many other waves will follow to shape it Using voice? paintings? video? What will grow from this seed?