busy body
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ABOUT US
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Busybody’s mission is to give POC artists an opportunity to realize the passion projects that they might otherwise have put aside out of concern for their financial and/or cultural feasibility. We want to remove the self-expression of POC from the theater of capitalism: we’re interested in work by and for POC; work that engages in introspection, representation, deconstruction or celebration; projects that circumnavigates and undermines the dominant, suffocating structures of capitalism, racism, sexism, etc. We want to enable people of color to hone their craft and support their creation of art. We want to promote and connect POC artists and create a community in which we feel comfortable and valued.


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visual: marin

written: delivery by imani wolery

written: you can only change yourself by imani wolery
  I can’t even put into words what I feel like anymore. Every time I attempt I sit on my hands or I choke on my spit. I stop moving my fingertips and I babble why the world is simultaneously against me. a woman with brown skin. it changes from almond to chestnut within the seasons. trying to find reciprocation. getting lost in the process and doing it all over again. Am I too specific? Am I too restless? I guess I am. but what else to do when you’re putting yourself back together like a puzzle. I lost pieces in you. you still have them. I lost pieces in me. you still have them. I always feel like I’m choking. I always feel like I’m gravitating. I disassociate to fly away from the world that harms me. yet I’m still optimistic. joyous by nature, but not always happy. they say, grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change and courage to change the things I can, But how must I know the difference? I left pieces in you, I hope you appreciate them like I do. “calmer waters”

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one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is realizing I cannot change others. I look inside myself for answers, but when those answers aren’t clear, I feel like bulldozing my own head. Was it me? was it you? always pointing the goddamn finger. I am so restless. I am so disappointed, all the time. you’ll never be let down if you don’t have expectations they say. Yet my expectations are like seeds in the soil, hoping for a good season. should I let go? should I hold on? What do I do? What do I do? you did this to me, but maybe I did it to myself because one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is realizing I cannot change others. I’m out of spark, I’m out of brightness, I’ve never been like this. I’m out of joy because I gave all my joy to you. soaking up the sun feels good doesn’t it? Do you feel sun-kissed?

one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is learning that I cannot destroy myself hoping for your happiness,

even if I want to.




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