The Art + Photography category showcases the work of trans creatives. I feature as much art as possible, all made by trans and gender expansive artists.
Everyday I wake up And every morning I hear “she, her” I hear “Nana” instead of Greggory Why Nana? I don’t hate her, it just disturbs me No matter how fast or how far I run she is still there when I look in mirror, Why can’t she let me be She’s just there haunting I hate myself when I look in the mirror, Why, why, why do I have to suffer from when you existed Why Ileanna why why must you haunt me when I go home You make me hate it there But I don’t hate you, I swear But you’re the reason I’m not greggory in my mother’s eyes, Why? And this is to my mom I am Greggory Freeman not Ileanna I am not her anymore. I am your son, Not your daughter. By GF
I like the sky when it’s this blue grey. I stop walking. I want to look. I want to watch the sky being the sky. It changes, the color does, depending how you look at it. Close one eye and it’s all different. Left eye blue. Right eye grey. Like it can’t decide how it’s feeling. I get it. I am that way sometimes. I am that way now. I can’t decide how I feel. I can’t decide who I am. I’m not sure who I used to be and I’m afraid to know who I will become. Maybe that’s why I’ve stopped here. To do this. To stand still and watch the sky. At least here it can’t get worse. Not if I don’t move. Not if i stand still and just watch. But today is no good for standing. Today the wind is chilly. Not so cold that I want to scurry off back to where I started, but chilly enough so that I notice. Enough to make me just a little uncomfortable. The wind is reminding me that it is there. Its touch just cold enough for me to know that I am not alone. The clouds are low and they hurry past on their way to somewhere important. Maybe someplace beautiful. Maybe a place where things are sure of themselves. A place where problems are solved and things make sense. A place where the sky is blue and it knows it. A place they are looking forward to getting. A place were they can be alive in the present and leave their memories in the past. A place my earthbound body will never reach. Not by standing. I’ve been standing here a while now. A lot of clouds have moved on. A lot of new ones have come and look to be intent on doing the same. If I didn’t know better, I would say that didn’t matter. I would say that the sky is still the same sky it was when I stopped moving to watch. But I do know better. At least, I think I do. Some of it is the same. It’s still the same unsure of itself color. Left eye blue. Right eye grey. The are clouds hurrying. The wind insisting that they move on. That stuff is the same but, those are different clouds. I know they are. I watched the wind shoo the old ones on their way to find their all the way blue sky. The clouds that I stopped to watch are gone forever. Nothing can stay exactly as it was. Not even the sky. The clouds will never move backward. The wind never blows in reverse. I can’t fly like the clouds and I’m not sure if my sky will ever be blue. All I know is that I am starting to feel cold. It’s time to go. The wind is right. I have stood here long enough. I’m sure of that.
be visible, be vocal, or be erased
About the Artist
Iden Crockett(@my_name_is_iden) uses her words and her pictures tell the story of her experience as a first responder, her journey through ptsd, depression and the discovery of her identity as a transgender woman.
She publishes new pictures and writing bi-monthly through her free e-zine Trigger Warning
This white charcoal drawing on black paper features a trans man gazing daringly into the eyes of the viewer. Inspired by Yannis Davy Guibinga’s black on black photography, this piece is meant to stop the viewer, disrupt routines, and inspire courage.
About the Artist
Arien Reed is a trans man who paints/draws other gender diverse and/or intersex people. When not covered in paint, he volunteers as the secretary for Trans-E-Motion, a nonprofit providing gender affirming garments and GAC grants, rental relief grants, free WPATH (transition approval) letters, and more, to the trans community. Follow his artwork on IG or TikTok at @arienreedart
This black & white charcoal drawing on gray paper by Arien Reed of a trans man removing his binder feels like a metaphor for breaking free, for hurting in exchange for experiencing needed change. Binders are not comfortable to wear or easy to put on or remove, but the gender euphoria they provide cannot be overstated.
About the Artist
Arien Reed is a trans man who paints/draws other gender diverse and/or intersex people. When not covered in paint, he volunteers as the secretary for Trans-E-Motion, a nonprofit providing gender affirming garments and GAC grants, rental relief grants, free WPATH (transition approval) letters, and more, to the trans community. Follow his artwork on IG or TikTok at @arienreedart or on Facebook at facebook.com/arienreedart
I never wanted to celebrate my ascension into womanhood.
Though my ovaries ache, give me no children.
Filet me.
Hang me by my fallopian tubes – arms spread wide,
So that all may watch the autopsy of my soul.
My act of contrition.
About the Author
G. Picconatto lives and works in Minneapolis, MN. Their written/poetic work focuses primarily on their personal journey with gender. Follow them on Instagram @pisces_witxh.
