Issue 2


Meditation in the Institute for Lonely Creole Girls
By Katherine Agard

So I got a grant. The Institute for Lonely Girls. I named this that. This is an institute for lonely girls.
Why are we so lonely?
Have you ever heard—creoles only like creoles? I heard that quote in the Spike Lee film When the Levee Breaks and I really attached to it.

I take my own hand and dance in a circle.
Can brown bourgeois boys love only brown bourgeois boys?

I take my own hand and look in the mirror. I am circling and circling and circling my own tale.

Have you ever considered that the Book of Genesis is the story of an Abrahamic God on a shame spiral who wanted to repent? Why ELSE all this attention on repentance. Mistakes are part of the fibre of motivation. Or at least I was baptized this way.

I am manically dancing and singing.

Who do I pray to?

On this occasion we will pray for nine nights.

That is a novena.

To grieve and to ask (whoever the fuck you want) to intercede on your behalf.

The first time I remember a novena was when a beauty queen was in a porno with another beauty and some white man that probably, definitely, one or both of them loved. You know marriage, #power couple, all that.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say this out loud, after all her mother prayed 9 days x 9 nights x 9 lifetimes to undo the images —

What if being the image that gives pleasure is pleasurable? I don’t know. Not a thing I’ve heard the participants talk about, the pleasure of being seen – after all it was a violation but...

She got watched more, a reality show, a fashion line, a video game, selfie nation. More images to replace those images.

You know which ones.

The ones taken from behind, that wide open...

Let us pray.

Not despite of it but because of it.

Was this the answer to the prayers?It all gets mixed up when the avatar doesn’t talk back.

I was in school with the beauty queen’s brother at the time.

And the boys used to pass the pictures around on their phones in class.

THE BOYS TOUCH THEIR CROTCHES and then they’d look at the brother and say hey sweet ass, you like to take it in the ass too?

The boys’ toilets were covered in moss, the floors covered in water, flooded, an underwater chamber.

We pray to you, Our lady of the moss and fur and wet sweetness, the lick green in betweens. The boys school used to call Friday Frigay And all of the boys who could would dress in short pants and slap each other’s asses and titter. Except his.

The girls school had slap ass Thursdays. It might not have been Thursday

Oh—fuck Aphrodite! Goddesses of Kano, Ogun
turning Hades, churning underwater heat—I am reminded
that there are two Aphrodites anyway, one the Venus from
the lips of the waves, the other sullen, on earth,
giving blow jobs for cigarettes; covered in soil. Beauty
is not the point here. That flame is relational.

I could make this Institute for Lonely Girls.
I could make this sadness an island.

I’ve decided to ball all my self-hatred and regret into my work. All the making and unmaking and anxiety—I’m just going to make something that’s not myself. Like this institute. And my bed. I’m going to make my bed. I could lie in it.

There’s a Sex and the City episode where Carrie is broken up with on a post-it and then goes to a club called Bed. It’s smokey and gauzy and everyone’s lying on beds in full make-up which really makes me wonder about the sheets. Like that whole wiped off face off makeup on the sheets question.

Well anyway she goes there and she meets her new ex’s friends there, also lounging and makes a fool of herself there.

See? I say that to prove something about the meaning of the bed.

In meditation, clasp the hands and imagine
white light moving from the top of the skull
and down the spine. Light two candles walk between
them, and the absorbed worries of the days will disperse.

I want to make something else.
Let my worries disperse.

I tried to do a meditation called Interdimensional Connectedness. It made me feel hungover, plus all I could see was Carrie Bradshaw on that stupid bed with that post-it. This was a Youtube video, obviously, BECAUSE HOW ELSE DO I DO A CONNECTEDNESS MEDITATION—from my own head? from leaving my own bed? All the comments were things like

Gemini Queendom    1 year ago
think about it guys. if it’s your multidimensional self, it’s doing the exact same thing but in a different reality. So while you’re trying to connect with them they are all trying to connect with you, and I also just sent this message to all of them in a different reality layout.

GenXer82 GenXer82    1 year ago
Within just 5 minutes, I was at the place where all dimensions of the universe intersect with each other. I call it: Planes crossing. Since all dimensional planes met. An amazing meditation
magnetic minds. Keep up the good work

lady_banana_3019    3 years ago
Best experience yet!! Felt like I was gliding along different planes, moving in all sorts of directions, letting my soul (and 3rd eye) guide me along the way. I actually ended up listening to the “entire” 1.5 hours of the video!! :-)

I like to imagine myself in parallel universes.
But In all universes I must be running towards the same trouble.
In all universes reaching out to ask myself with is real.

Katherine is a Gemini. That's really all you need to know. Her work varies by context, and often exists simultaneously in different forms. Mostly writing, painting and performance. She likes viscous liquids and soft objects, and her material practice currently centers around chocolate, milk and oil. She likes to talk about colorism, class, labor and belief mostly. She is from Trinidad and Tobago and recently graduated from UC - San Diego with an MFA in Writing. Hit her up at if you want her to experimentally read your cards. Seriously.