submissions
Sahar Vasquez
When I look at this picture I see so much hope. So much resilience. So much joy. I was around 8 or 9 when this pictures was taken by my dad on the island of Caye Caulker. I had a broken wrist but I could care less. I was just so happy to be alive. To be on this earth absorbing all its beauty. I am now 24 years old and my life has changed drastically. That Sahar you see in that picture is gone. Yes I am still here but somewhere along the way I lost that energy. Depression, anxiety, and self doubt sucked me into a magnetic hole. I miss her greatly but when I look at this picture I feel inspired. Inspired to get back that Sahar full of life.
Montse Casademunt
Carlos 'lito' Quiroz
De la Pichinga para Mamawel
Melissa Espat
La veo indefensa, desorientada y perdida,
y lo único en que puedo pensar es de la fuerza que una vez tenía--
la fuerza de una mujer fenomenal que me sostuvo la mano,
y el Corazón se me parte y la memoria me lleva en aquellos tiempos
cuando tomé mis primeros pasos que me motive aún
cuando acuñe el nombre Mamawel
cuando me acompañó a Holy Redeemer el primer día de clases
cuando íbamos de compras a Brodies caminando por las calles de Orange y Albert
cuando me enfermaba
cuando tenía pesadillas
cuando me peleaba con mi mamá (y fueron muchas las veces)
cuando le avise que me caso
cuando sentí la pérdida de un embarazo, y la raptura de mi familia
cuando se enfermo
cuando tenía dudas de su cirugia
Cuando lloraba yo de frustración
Cuando estaba yo confrentando el comienzo de mis peores dias
Cuando se confundía con palabras, y me decía como de cansada estaba
… estabamos agarradas de las manos con cariño.
Me enseño y formento como poner a Dios y mi familia primero antes de todo;
A perdonar
A amar
A querer profúndamente
A azotar con la lengua
A como maquillarme y perfumarme cade ves que salga de mi casa
A trabajar
A no conformarme con menos
A como ser una mujer fuerte
Me ha bendecido! Cuando su amor se derramo,
penso de mí, y por eso siempre estaré tan agradecida.
La quiero un millón de por vida infinita!
Melissa Espat
La veo indefensa, desorientada y perdida,
y lo único en que puedo pensar es de la fuerza que una vez tenía--
la fuerza de una mujer fenomenal que me sostuvo la mano,
y el Corazón se me parte y la memoria me lleva en aquellos tiempos
cuando tomé mis primeros pasos que me motive aún
cuando acuñe el nombre Mamawel
cuando me acompañó a Holy Redeemer el primer día de clases
cuando íbamos de compras a Brodies caminando por las calles de Orange y Albert
cuando me enfermaba
cuando tenía pesadillas
cuando me peleaba con mi mamá (y fueron muchas las veces)
cuando le avise que me caso
cuando sentí la pérdida de un embarazo, y la raptura de mi familia
cuando se enfermo
cuando tenía dudas de su cirugia
Cuando lloraba yo de frustración
Cuando estaba yo confrentando el comienzo de mis peores dias
Cuando se confundía con palabras, y me decía como de cansada estaba
… estabamos agarradas de las manos con cariño.
Me enseño y formento como poner a Dios y mi familia primero antes de todo;
A perdonar
A amar
A querer profúndamente
A azotar con la lengua
A como maquillarme y perfumarme cade ves que salga de mi casa
A trabajar
A no conformarme con menos
A como ser una mujer fuerte
Me ha bendecido! Cuando su amor se derramo,
penso de mí, y por eso siempre estaré tan agradecida.
La quiero un millón de por vida infinita!
Jaylan Craig
CLICK on image below for video
Shahera Young
Falco
Ashanti Hegar
Anthony Vaccario Jr.
Santiago Cal
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99.9% of the time Black womxn are told "i tried, but you're combative/difficult/angry/violent" it is delivered by same folks whom we have not allowed to combat us, make our existence more difficult, anger us or violate us. Zora Neale Hurston was right that "if you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it."
You have to say your truth, no matter the outcome, it is still miles better than the alternative. The first few times, i was told, it hurt and i felt i had failed, when i realised how many more Black womxn were contending with the same, i realised it was the world that failed us. Seventeen years ago, the names Gilvano Swasey, Micheal Gordon and Yasser Musa popped up on my 17 year old radar. As three people from very different worlds, making really huge waves in the art world from 91 North Front Street, Belize City, Belize, Central America. i realised that as much as i wanted to be an architect, because that would allow me the perks of respectability politics, and the ease of social mobility, not having taken a physics class ever or garnered a good enough handle of mathematics, i went where i had really wanted to go, to art. And going to the Image Factory as a sixth form student, showed me possibility. Obviously i learned more names like Mercy Sabal, Lita Krohn, Deborah Usher, Sandra March and Pamela Braun, Richard Holder, Sergio Hoare, Santiago Cal, Papo, Sean Taegar, Daza, Jeannie Shaw, Magnus and Eden Estephan to just name a very few. All different kinds of artists making very different kinds of work, and some were, until recently, sixth form students themselves. It was amazing! i was convinced enough. After sixth form, i went to Mérida, Yucatán to study art. While i was away i kept seeing and hearing of even more incredible things, like books and shorts, and landings. Watching Edita Pariente's Sweet Naranjas in the darken room was me beaming, in my limited Spanish: She, She's from Belize. That was over fifteen years ago maybe. Since then more has happened. We've sadly lost some greats. Still the factory kept changing gears and chips to operate in new realities and ever changing collective consciousnesses. It is no small feat, that a small mostly unfunded, not for profit cultural institution, has been at the forefront of Belizean contemporary in literature, visual art and even requests for cultural policy change and protest. Bigger still that this small space has decided, unlike what the art world can be in most art capitals, actively disrupting gatekeeping and erasure. The IF is not perfect, but the IF has tried. In my 12 year art practise, the IF has been where i can show and see and learn and collaborate. Some years ago, Yasser told a group of us artists about a school project, he often shares what his students are working on, a fish riding a bicycle. That image has stuck with me for very many reasons, but i think the biggest one is that this, what we do every day. This art. This thing relegated to luxury status, unnecessary until all more relevant needs are met, seems like ridiculousness. But as Winsom Winsom has explained, and shown, in many instances here in Belize, art is the force, maybe the reason of life. We make/consume it because the spirit needs it. Twenty five years. If this were a wedding anniversary it would be easy. Just give you all a silver thing and done. But is not, this is 25 years of grit, gains, losses, failures and massive successes. And oh my goodness, in the times of covid19. So i mulled it over in my mind. Painted, well tried to, designed various sketches for an embroidery piece, that ebbed more than it flowed. A numerology search online finally took me to it, introspection, inner searching and inner sourcing. And hasn't that been it, almost this entire time of facing a global pandemic. And even before of making art from the periphery of the art world? i went back to 2018. Because i can not go to any new material anyway. Borders are temporarily closed, my mind's focusing is dull and sharp alternately during this stint. So i went into my previous work, previous thoughts and anecdotes i had heard, and i pulled a print of a linocut i started but did not finish in 2018. It is a small token, to the Image Factory Art Foundation's twenty five years of "you are invited." It has always been a collaboration, an invitation, a join us, a sharing. Thank you! To be Black and woman and lower middle class in a world that constantly reminds you of and tries to keep you in your place, the IF has been a powerful ally in my attempting visibility, sharing narrative and for that i will always be grateful. - Katie Usher |
Katie Usher
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Belize Central Prison
Rudy Thompson
Myrtle Palacio
Michael Gordon
Sean Taegar
Irma Briceño
Santiago Cal
click on image below for video
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Ubaldimir Guerra
Claudio Ordonez
Anthony 'Rojo' Vaccario Sr.
Felipa Briceño
Carmen Carillo
Enjoying Them Is Life!
Now riches, not money,
During quarantine, lonely?
Not at all!
As long as I have them,
Loving and cherishing our time together,
Who cares about the skulls of the day?
Who cares about the deaths of society,
The ill thinking of the unworthy,
The blasfemy of the pandemics?
If we are together,
Everything we do matters,
Not even the poison of the serpent leaders
Can ever kill us.
For, when we are together,
Only your crystalline laughter
Brightens my heart.
Your cheerful voices fill
The voids left by time and life.
Our conversations energize my anima!
Your cheerfulness become my daily mantra
And we sing and we dance and we laugh
With the wind and the trees.
Our spirits soar freely with the birds
And the butterflies join our dancing.
For tomorrow does not matter,
We lived today!
We loved and cherished our company,
Carmen Carrillo
May 28, 2020
Now riches, not money,
During quarantine, lonely?
Not at all!
As long as I have them,
Loving and cherishing our time together,
Who cares about the skulls of the day?
Who cares about the deaths of society,
The ill thinking of the unworthy,
The blasfemy of the pandemics?
If we are together,
Everything we do matters,
Not even the poison of the serpent leaders
Can ever kill us.
For, when we are together,
Only your crystalline laughter
Brightens my heart.
Your cheerful voices fill
The voids left by time and life.
Our conversations energize my anima!
Your cheerfulness become my daily mantra
And we sing and we dance and we laugh
With the wind and the trees.
Our spirits soar freely with the birds
And the butterflies join our dancing.
For tomorrow does not matter,
We lived today!
We loved and cherished our company,
Carmen Carrillo
May 28, 2020
Eean Ayuso
Gwen Nunez Gonzalez
Damian Perdomo
Uses of Literature
I am not an honest poet
capable of sharing
intimate details
of my life
in quarantine
& why should I
bare all with crayons
of a stark & mundane hue
except that this might enchant,
or shock, or teach, or
cause one to
recognise
themselves or something
they too once saw
or forgot they
knew
if, beyond the words, the
life would move some-
one & celebrate
the truth.
Christopher De Shield
A poem written on the 4th April during quarantine
I am not an honest poet
capable of sharing
intimate details
of my life
in quarantine
& why should I
bare all with crayons
of a stark & mundane hue
except that this might enchant,
or shock, or teach, or
cause one to
recognise
themselves or something
they too once saw
or forgot they
knew
if, beyond the words, the
life would move some-
one & celebrate
the truth.
Christopher De Shield
A poem written on the 4th April during quarantine
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Stacy Rodriguez
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Calcetines negros
los calcetines negros y viejos que heredé de mi padre los tengo todavía guardados-- me los pongo a veces para que me devuelvan el olor de su dolor cuando caminaba a su milpa-- iba primero en cayuco sobre las corrientes en calma del New River siempre con el calibre 16 en la mano-- y después atravesaba una sabana una vez habitada por cocodrilos con hambre de venganza se balanceaba sobre troncos de madera dura y les dejaba un recuerdito a esos cocodrilos que una vez habitaban esa sabana... y algunos mexicanos con Pesos poderosos lucen zapatos de cuero de cocodrilo sin saber que mi viejo ya no se puede balancear sobre esos troncos de madera dura... Amado Chan Granada, Nicaragua, 2013 |
Black Socks
the black socks old socks which I inherited from my father I still keep in a safe place-- sometimes I wear them so that they may return to me the aroma of his pain when he walked to his milpa-- first he would travel by canoe on those calm currents of the New River always ready with his paddle in his hands-- and then he would cross a savannah once inhabited by crocodiles with a desire for vengeance he would struggle to keep his balance on some hardwood logs and he would leave his memories on those crocodiles that once inhabited that savannah... and a few Mexicans with the almighty Pesos brag with crocodile skin shoes without knowing that my old man can no longer keep his balance on those hardwood logs... Amado Chan Belize |
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Stacy Rodriguez
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I Apologize
by Delmer Tzib Dear greatgrandfather I write to apologize, I feel deep within that I have hurt you; I forget my roots at times I apologize greatgrandfather, For I have disconnected from you, Like a selfie picture, I tore an image away from my roots. I apologize for I have forgotten your language, I got too scared and ashamed of who I was, I wanted to fit in, I disparaged my semantics I decieved you... For that I apologize I apologize for feeling ashamed, For negating my Mayanness Its not an excuse, But these modern times caused me to be depressed, I apologize greatgrandfather for fearing your spirituality, My mind was in a blocked state, I saw your traditions as insane... I apologize I apologize for feeling belittled, less or backward, I lost my self in these times, Grandfather forgive me.. For these and many other things, I apologize... Let me connect with you. |
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Delmer Tzib
Richard Holder
Melissa Bradley
Santiago Cal
Richard Holder
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Rising
“Like a lid to a vessel, O Sun! Your golden orb covers the entrance to Truth.Kindly open the same and lead us to Truth." I pressed my palms together in prayer mudra and recited the above mantra. The words vibrated and resonated out in all directions, gently touching the sea and forming a force field around me. I gazed at the sun, it's reflection rose in my eyes; and I felt it's golden orbs become my own. Grateful for the warmth and light, I rose up and dispelled the dark and embraced my own inner rising sun that never sets. |
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Maryam Abdul-Qawiyy
Gema Rios
Greetings Y,
Image Factory Art Foundation
U gwen dah dah ting dah Image Factry?
Which ting?
Soe art ting?
Dat dah noe deh PUP people place?
Chuups (suck mi teeth)
I had that experience in different ways a number of times before I cautiously wandered down North Front Street krass from the Chiney whey sell Fry Chicken, before yo get paaah di taaytah does dey.
I did not want to like any Image Factory Art Foundation anyting, wooesah anyting fue du wit any Musa.
I reluctantly injoyed the music aah food on di patio by the Haulover Creek, all kindaaah people whey go dah deh Community Art gettogehdah, link ups with community based organizations, book launches, government ministries peeple, e-book series (Bembe Vision), summer youth partnerships, Y, aah y laata, laata pichaa taking self, poetry readings, solidarity meet ups (Cuba & the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela), whaa nadaaah Belizean artist and their creative work being showcase, aaah di media show up aaah only whaaa interview Yasser Musa again, or when yo watch di news dah Yasser get most aaah di air time. Aaah gat yo back Bembe Sis Phenomenal Belizean Black Woman Artist living with mental illness Katie Usher. Tanks to all di people dey dah Belize aah from faahrin whey teck paat eehna IF productions.
Yes, anytime I tink Image Factory mi nephew Gilvano, Katie, aaah Yasser coe to mi mind. Salute to all di people deey whey pass tru di IF alley to di IF Art Gallery, di one deh whey krass over to the Spirit realms, di one deeh whey noe coe round noemoe, di diehaaad IF supporters (Grand Master), di just di pass thru ones, di PUP supporters, all aaah unu, all aah wi, thanks.
Thanks Y, for the vision and willingness to heng eeh deh fue 25 years wit Image Factory Art Foundation, (IF). Well yo know, yo noe mi whaaa meck it witout Pam. Dah she handle di money bag, aaah kip it real wit yo. Di rest aaah yo family aaah close friends whey listen to yo, tallahrate yo, aaah support yo eeehnah all di ways whey deh stick wit yo fue 25 years, Belizean people tank unu.
Image Factory Art Foundation dah whaa space whey soe Belizeans whaa nevah goe, dah also whaa space whey laaatah Belizeans laaan more bout dehself aaah aaahdaahs true art. IF really meck art feel like art dah paaat aaah wi life instead aaah like whaaa cold museum.
Anyways, when aaah staat to write dis, aaah nevah no dah soe y mi whaa ton out.
Baaatam line, aaah hope Image Factory Art Foundation deh bout fue whaaa laaangah laaang moe time dah Belize.
In Solidarity!
Sistah YaYa
May, 2020
Thanks Y, to be able to know and live your purpose for as long as you have is a recognition of your determined Spirit.
In Solidarity!
NaNa YaYa
Image Factory Art Foundation
U gwen dah dah ting dah Image Factry?
Which ting?
Soe art ting?
Dat dah noe deh PUP people place?
Chuups (suck mi teeth)
I had that experience in different ways a number of times before I cautiously wandered down North Front Street krass from the Chiney whey sell Fry Chicken, before yo get paaah di taaytah does dey.
I did not want to like any Image Factory Art Foundation anyting, wooesah anyting fue du wit any Musa.
I reluctantly injoyed the music aah food on di patio by the Haulover Creek, all kindaaah people whey go dah deh Community Art gettogehdah, link ups with community based organizations, book launches, government ministries peeple, e-book series (Bembe Vision), summer youth partnerships, Y, aah y laata, laata pichaa taking self, poetry readings, solidarity meet ups (Cuba & the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela), whaa nadaaah Belizean artist and their creative work being showcase, aaah di media show up aaah only whaaa interview Yasser Musa again, or when yo watch di news dah Yasser get most aaah di air time. Aaah gat yo back Bembe Sis Phenomenal Belizean Black Woman Artist living with mental illness Katie Usher. Tanks to all di people dey dah Belize aah from faahrin whey teck paat eehna IF productions.
Yes, anytime I tink Image Factory mi nephew Gilvano, Katie, aaah Yasser coe to mi mind. Salute to all di people deey whey pass tru di IF alley to di IF Art Gallery, di one deh whey krass over to the Spirit realms, di one deeh whey noe coe round noemoe, di diehaaad IF supporters (Grand Master), di just di pass thru ones, di PUP supporters, all aaah unu, all aah wi, thanks.
Thanks Y, for the vision and willingness to heng eeh deh fue 25 years wit Image Factory Art Foundation, (IF). Well yo know, yo noe mi whaaa meck it witout Pam. Dah she handle di money bag, aaah kip it real wit yo. Di rest aaah yo family aaah close friends whey listen to yo, tallahrate yo, aaah support yo eeehnah all di ways whey deh stick wit yo fue 25 years, Belizean people tank unu.
Image Factory Art Foundation dah whaa space whey soe Belizeans whaa nevah goe, dah also whaa space whey laaatah Belizeans laaan more bout dehself aaah aaahdaahs true art. IF really meck art feel like art dah paaat aaah wi life instead aaah like whaaa cold museum.
Anyways, when aaah staat to write dis, aaah nevah no dah soe y mi whaa ton out.
Baaatam line, aaah hope Image Factory Art Foundation deh bout fue whaaa laaangah laaang moe time dah Belize.
In Solidarity!
Sistah YaYa
May, 2020
Thanks Y, to be able to know and live your purpose for as long as you have is a recognition of your determined Spirit.
In Solidarity!
NaNa YaYa
Carlos 'lito' Quiroz
Rio Hondo: Speak to us!
I'm Nohoch Ucum!
Yet you call me Rio Hondo.
My history is longer than 93 miles
and my wounds are too deep.
I'm Nohoch Ucum,
I embraced your forefathers,
the Maya, the Mestizo,
the English, the Spanish,
the Creole, everyone without prejudice.
Ask the chiclero,
ask the logwood cutter,
ask the farmer,
ask the fisherman.
For centuries thousands have travelled my waters,
not knowing I'm Nohoch Ucum.
I can still listen to the canoes,
the sharp machetes, the explosives,
the guns, the axes, the falling of trees.
I heard the cry of the Llorona,
the whistle of the Alux.
Yet you don't know I'm Nohoch Ucum.
Many of you remember me as Rio Hondo!
ONLY when you have to be at my river banks and leave.
Only because I'm included in your history books and treaties.
Only when you have to stand straight
and sing the Belizean National Anthem.
Yet you forget I'm Nohoch Ucum.
My waters and banks has been a source life!
But many saw them only as a source of economy,
of politics, of migration, of colonialism, of slavery.
A source of war, a source of borders,
a source of nationalism!
Yet you forget I'm Nohoch Ucum!
I'm Nohoch Ucum,
my sons and daughters
live along on both river banks of the Rio Hondo.
I'm Nohoch Ucum, take care of the mighty Rio Hondo!
Hugo Carrillo Cocom
I'm Nohoch Ucum!
Yet you call me Rio Hondo.
My history is longer than 93 miles
and my wounds are too deep.
I'm Nohoch Ucum,
I embraced your forefathers,
the Maya, the Mestizo,
the English, the Spanish,
the Creole, everyone without prejudice.
Ask the chiclero,
ask the logwood cutter,
ask the farmer,
ask the fisherman.
For centuries thousands have travelled my waters,
not knowing I'm Nohoch Ucum.
I can still listen to the canoes,
the sharp machetes, the explosives,
the guns, the axes, the falling of trees.
I heard the cry of the Llorona,
the whistle of the Alux.
Yet you don't know I'm Nohoch Ucum.
Many of you remember me as Rio Hondo!
ONLY when you have to be at my river banks and leave.
Only because I'm included in your history books and treaties.
Only when you have to stand straight
and sing the Belizean National Anthem.
Yet you forget I'm Nohoch Ucum.
My waters and banks has been a source life!
But many saw them only as a source of economy,
of politics, of migration, of colonialism, of slavery.
A source of war, a source of borders,
a source of nationalism!
Yet you forget I'm Nohoch Ucum!
I'm Nohoch Ucum,
my sons and daughters
live along on both river banks of the Rio Hondo.
I'm Nohoch Ucum, take care of the mighty Rio Hondo!
Hugo Carrillo Cocom
Richard Holder
Yasser Musa
Margaret Welcome
Eden Estephan
Kirkland Smith
Patrick Castillo
Adlar Coc
Ashanti Hegar
Harold Young
Jaye Wagner
Kervin Mitchell
Mary Francis Espat
Karen Ross
Robert Buckland
Lita Krohn
Bill Skinner
