welcome
a care package awaits…
“listen to eachother’s pulse…”*
2020 is not the year we expected it to be. With the advent of the novel coronavirus COVID-19, we are grappling with worry, uncertainty, and the disruption of our routines. Anxious for the health of our loved ones, we’ve had to quickly anticipate unforeseen needs and craft solutions to problems none of us predicted. Though forced apart, our hearts still ache for connection to each other, both physical and mental. Our hearts throb with the same pulse of community—of humanity.
Inspired by and lovingly modeled after the Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Center’s Care Package, SamePulse is one answer to this longing for stillness and connection in this time of uncertainty. You will find various approaches by artists, writers, and performers each coping in their individual ways with our current world. We hope that you will be able to cultivate connection, inspire stillness, and experience the same pulse we all share.
*from Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit
SamePulse is a collection of films, poems, performances, and images created by a small community of individual artists. We offer solidarity in this time and hope that as you experience these works, you find some community with us and each other.
The artists have provided their work as an offering. If you find a piece particularly moving, we have included their chosen social media and venmo.
We invite you to follow and donate as you are able.
table of contents
Daily Journal, a comic by Lonn Le
Ways of Considering Contact, a short film by Sarah Olive-McStay
Self-Portraits in Social Distance, a handcut + digital collage by Allison Morton
A Story from Night before War, a performance by Aine E Nakamura
(Still Trying to Find) Stillness, a collage by Jasper Sortun
Flow Episode 2, a conversation by Durell Cooper
caught, questions and joy., three poems by Tyler Dobies
Presents, part I & II, a poem and dance by Kristen Kelso and Madeline Kelso
Midnight Snack, a monologue by Mara E. Palma
Daily Journal
a comic by Lonn Le
The inspiration came from when I was laying in bed and I felt a soothing breeze through an opened window. Delighted by this feeling, I continued to search for more small pleasant moments. Slowly realizing how much I can get caught up in a bad head space, I decided to draw a comic to pour these thoughts out.
Born and raised in the Rainier Valley of Seattle, Lonn Le (they/them) is a Queer Vietnamese-American freelance illustrator and cartoonist. Growing up, their biggest influences were from cartoons, video games, and manga. Admiring the feeling of relatability through storytelling, it inspired them to share their personal experiences.
Ways of Considering Contact
a short film by Sarah Olive-McStay
This film is for anyone else for whom touch is not a native language. As we’re required to maintain greater distance from one another, I find myself reflecting on the ways I’ve distanced myself deliberately. As connection becomes rarer and more vitally important, I want to ask what it means to resist the urge to pull away during this time and instead choose to lean in.
Sarah Olive-McStay (she/her) is a singer, actor, and writer from Washington State. Her work reflects a dry sense of humor and an appreciation for miniature catastrophes. She looks for the best in people and finds it in moments of tension—between laughter and grief, courage and fear, sacred and profane. She's currently taking cover in Tacoma, WA, writing songs and stories that have been stuck in her head for a while. Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, MA '19
Self-Portraits in Social Distance
a handcut + digital collage by Allison Morton
In this time of mass self-quarantine, it came to me to approach stillness through the act of self-portraiture. I found myself hiding from the camera in much the same way I have recently burrowed in my home in the face of this pandemic. In forcing myself to be still in front of the camera, I forged a new connection with myself. Images from my home state of Florida also helped me to create a sense of connection I am missing in these times. I hope to communicate the dread, boredom, restlessness and absurdity we are all feeling.
DSLR photography, hand cut + digital collage, 2020
everglades photos - Carr, Archie. The Everglades, the American Wilderness. Time Inc., 1973.
Allison Morton (she/her) is a poet, visual artist and filmmaker originally from Apollo Beach, Florida. She received her BFA in filmmaking from Ringling College of Art and Design, and her MFA in Creative Writing and Poetics from the University of Washington Bothell. She currently lives and works in Seattle, Washington. Her work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Clamor, The Sonder Review, Peach Mag, Snail Trail and others.
A Story from Night before War
a performance by Aine E Nakamura
This is a story about a mother’s song from composition, Night before War. Kind song is fragile if humans start a war but special for the light on this earth. In a house of light, mother is telling her child a story, singing quietly and kindly even after the child’s asleep. Mother’s song reaches the quietness of night and deepness of lake. Beneath the warm kind moon, gods are alive in the mother’s song.
documented in November 2019 in a rehearsal studio in NYC
I pursue sensibility and spirituality in my work. I am song itself, and I am a singer.
Aine E Nakamura (she/her) is a singer, composer and performing artist. Her solo appearances include Dias de Música Electroacústica, and New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. Premieres and collaborations of her compositions include NYCEMF, and October New Music Festival (Finland). Her appearances include The Two directed by Dmitry Krymov. Winner of the APNM 2019 Electronic Music Competition.
(Still Trying to Find) Stillness
a collage by Jasper Sortun
Struggling to come up with anything particularly profound during this strange time, I decided to return to the one medium I find most soothing: collage. I ended up compiling a bunch of things that I had previously cut out and put aside, and just let the rest come together, adding new elements along the way. An exercise in trying to find some stillness.
Mixed media- watercolor, colored pencil, paper collage, scanned and edited in Illustrator.
Jasper Sortun (she/her) is a freelance illustrator and graphic designer based in LA. She received her BFA in Graphic Design with Minors in Art History and Studio Art from Pacific Lutheran University. She works primarily in watercolor and gouache, and is finding collage to be particularly therapeutic lately...
Flow Episode 2
A conversation by Durell Cooper
Durell Cooper meets with his good friend and Intellectual Property Lawyer Marcus Moore to talk representation and time capsules.
Durell Cooper (he/him), originally from Montgomery, Alabama, is an interdisciplinary artist and educator. His work primarily focuses on investigating the human condition through a critical race lens. Currently, he is pursuing his doctorate at New York University.
caught | questions | joy.
three poems by Tyler Dobies
I’ve found that my main frustration (after cursing the universe for interrupting my life, as if I were somehow the center) has been, in fact, myself. I am always looking for a solution or searching for the logistics of how to get out and how to cope. In midst of all this, It has been the primary struggle to allow myself to feel—when all I want to do is find a way out. Should I take the time to plan my next move? Or do I truly stop to ask myself: what do I need to settle in my heart to make sure I go on?
joy. originally appeared in a Tyler’s 2018 chapbook “Poems”
caught
i’ve gotten caught.
slipped, muddy and hurting
the rain falls.
i’ve gotten caught.
my ankle clamped in a claw
i overlooked this stupid dark patch of forest
i’ve gotten caught
i knew it so well
i thought i knew
once proud of my foresight
i wonder
do i need to cut off my foot to go on
no. i hope not.
i’ve gotten caught
what do i do
what do i do
questions
the questions
what now
how am i supposed to
why is this happening right now
the anger
ya didn’t really give me a choice, did ya
i have to do what now
this is not what i ever wanted
the uncertainty
how will this change my world
what will i be like when this is over
who will be with me through this
the reluctance
i don’t know what to do
i don’t want to
is this worth it
joy.
joy is running naked and free
through showers of liquid chlorine
choreographed to the William Tell Overture.
joy is a lover who rests in your pain and is never succumbed.
joy is finding the right word
clear
and
specific in reflection.
joy is the sonic boom of a barrel of laughs un-muffled despite the pleas of a cruel world.
joy is my sister
t e l e p o r t i n g
into my arms after 8 hours of staring
out a small window at clouds and sky around her.
joy is the coziness of hot chocolate filling to the brim that Santa mug your mom got you years ago that you use year round because you’re too lazy to buy other ones.
joy is watching
the
s h o o k n e s s
of your sister when three waiters complete with
SOMBREROS
parade from the kitchen with ice cream
singing feliz cumpleaños to her in the middle of january her birthday is in july.
joy is eye contact and the purity of pride when the man you love
gets the job
he wanted like you always knew he would.
joy is writing a trite poem about what joy is because you wanted to.
Photo Credit: Juliann Itter
Tyler Dobies (he/him) is a poet, actor, and singer based in New York City. Tyler is from many places including Colorado and Washington. As a queer, biracial person of color, he is interested in excavating the difference between narrative and individual truth. He is inspired by moments of stillness and togetherness. In his work, Tyler wants his audience to know that they are in the same room processing and experiencing something together. Tyler is an alumni of the Intiman Emerging Artist Program 2017 where he wrote and performed a short solo show about his identity as a queer, long-haired, Filipino/Polish other. PLU ‘16; NYU ‘20
Presents, part I & II
a poem and dance by Kristen Kelso and Madeline Kelso
Part I
This is an exercise, a test, in experimental translation practices. The poem, Presents, (which somewhat turns into a kind of meditation and then almost a song) was written recently as a response to COVID-19. It is about the present, our presence and imperfection, among other things. The dancer featured in the film moved in response to the words. With the piece we also hoped to provide a hopeful entry point into “disorientation”. We are all disoriented. But we are all doing our best. You are doing your best.
Part II
This is an optional companion piece to Part I. This is the song referenced in the poem (silently underscoring the poem); it is an old Appalachian folk song which is rumored to have first been performed in Atlanta, GA, in the 1920s. It runs through my mind all the time. For me, this song causes stillness.
Song: “Down in the Valley,” famously recorded by Burl Ives
Singers: Kristen Kelso & Jamie Kelso
Kristen Kelso (she/her) is an actor, theatre director, translator, musician and performing artist based in New York City. Her research interests include bilingual performance and translation studies. Her multidisciplinary artistic work centers on the familial archive, memory and the fragment. She has an MA in Translation Studies from the University of Texas at Dallas and is currently an MA candidate in Performance Studies at NYU.
Madeline Kelso (she/her) is a professional dancer, choreographer, freelance visual artist (working primarly in watercolor) and event coordinator from Savannah, GA. With a BFA in dance from Point Park University, she has performed works by Aszure Barton, Jennifer Archibald, Mark Burrell, José Limón and Garfield Lemonius, among others. She most recently worked with RWS Entertainment Group, performing on Holland America Cruise Line’s MS Noordam.
Midnight Snack
a monologue by Mara E. Palma
My constant companion these last few weeks has been my dog, Mila. A 4-year-old rescue dog, her company is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she goes everywhere I go, and a curse because she wants to eat everything I eat, particularly when I am craving food late at night. (This happens most nights.) I came to recognize a kindred spirit within her, though… the one that loves to eat wildly, protect her people, and bask in the sunshine. All this without her saying a word. I cherish this unexpected connection, and offer up what I imagine her inner workings to be.
Written and Performed by Mara E. Palma
Mara E. Palma is a writer, performer, and teaching artist based in LA. Originally from the Philippines, she's worked in Boston, Seattle, and now SoCal. Her artistic mission is to bring big, bold stories about women and girls to the stage. Mara received her Bachelor of Arts in Theatre Studies and Political Science at Wellesley College '15 and studied with Sara Porkalob at the Intiman Emerging Artist Program in '17. Fierce, Feminist, Filipina!
a final thought.
Alice Walker says, “hard times require furious dancing.” Our lives may have been changed, but it doesn’t mean that we stop connecting or that we stop reaching out. We may not be physically close, but our hearts can still dance to each other’s SamePulse.
how are you restoring yourself during this time? what is your furious dance?
thank you for visiting
words of thanks
To each artist without whose work this project would not be possible. I am privileged to know each of you and overjoyed that you said yes.
To Jonathan Adams for his encouragement to start a project like this and for his love.
and
To Gabrielle Dobies for almost everything — her sharing the Smithsonian’s APA’s care package, creating the logo, workshopping email language, social media prowess, and organization. among many others.
© 2020 SamePulse | All Rights Reserved.