Woman Journal Vol. 6: Back in Shape

Over three dozen c**ts of every size and description for you to color. Originally used for a sex-education class. Crayons not included. First published in 1975 by lesbian activist and artist Tee Corinne.

"In 1973 I set out to do drawings of women’s genitals for use in sex education groups. I wanted the drawings to be lovely and informative, to give pleasure and affirmation. I organized the drawings into a coloring book because a major way we learn to understand the world, as children, is by coloring. As adults many of us still need to learn about our external sexual anatomy." —Tee Corinne

Tee Corinne was born November 3rd, 1943 and grew up in St. Petersburg, Florida. Her mother, also an artist, introduced her to the creative principles and techniques that would serve her all her life. She received a B.A. in printmaking and painting from the University of South Florida, then went on to get an M.F.A. in drawing and sculpture at Pratt Institute, graduating in 1968. Afterwards she taught for many years, traveled through Europe, and finally became enmeshed in the back-to-the-land movement and communal living. After nearly ten years of marriage to a man she referred to as her "best friend," Corinne came out of the closet amidst severe depression in 1975. The strength to accomplish this difficult effort would later propel her to heights and achievements that would distinguish her as "one of the most visible and accessible lesbian artists in the world." From the mid-1960’s to the day she died Corinne created, published, and exhibited her art and writing around the world. She was a co-facilitator of the Feminist Photography Ovulars and a co-founder of The Blatant Image, A Magazine of Feminist Photography. She was the author of one novel, three collections of short stories, four books of poetry and numerous arts publications. In 1980, she was one of ten selected artists invited to have their work exhibited in the Great American Lesbian Art Show. The world lost Tee Corinne to cancer in 2006.

In 1911, Sigmund Freud addressed his followers gathered at Nuremberg, where he restated the import of his practice: “the task of psychoanalysis lies not at all in the discovering of complexes, but in the dissolving of resistances.” A formal antipode to political resistance, psychoanalytic resistance dams up desire and obstructs traumatic knowledge. It is conservative, allergic to change, and aims for the kind of frictionless normativity against which the unconscious drives rail. Meanwhile, we associate political resistance with change itself, with a blockade that pushes for revolution—rather than a blockage that censors its very possibility. If we read Freud as urging his followers to help their patients move through their resistance, psychoanalysis is a project on the side of material and political reality by bringing patients out of isolation and into social struggles. However, psychoanalysis is often glossed in reverse: as a project of isolated relief for the stubborn individual.

Should psychoanalysis only succeed at rendering patients compliant in their cure? Is psychoanalysis a tool for nullifying political resistance? If so, Freud’s edict for the aim of psychoanalysis is now but an epitaph. It would be easy, then, to give up the ghost, to let psychoanalysis go. But why should psychoanalysis retreat from collective symptoms back into the consulting room for individual treatment—away from strikes, riots, and uprisings, and toward complacency and normativity, if not quite literally marriage and babies? Why should the clinic not dare to be in and of the world?

Feeling restless. Hunger tactics. Laughing in the face of fascism. Breaking through. Diagnosing revolution. Madness in the Maghreb. Essays by Fady Joudah, Jamieson Webster, Dylan Saba, Yasmin El-Rifae, Ussama Makdisi, Mary Turfah, Hannah Proctor, and more.

In Memory of Joshua Clover (1962-2025).

Issue 05, Flow, moves like water through rupture and release. Guided by the I-Ching, we drift into synesthetic rope rituals in Germany, spiral through Taijiquan in Canada, sway in sacred dances under Ethiopian stars, and lose ourselves in the rapture of Krishna Vandana. Here, flow is both a political current and a state of surrender. From Gabriel Semerene's meditations on faith and protest across Gaza and Brazil to Nerda Khara's navigation of societal constraints in Pakistan, these pieces explore how movement becomes both resistance and surrender. Tejaswini Loundo ponders flow states in Indian classical philosophy while Erika Mattio finds unity in the sacred dances of Lalibela. Shanny Rann discovers spirit in Taijiquan's slow power, Antje Brockmüller maps synesthesia through rope flow, and Anna Chwialkowska questions ghosts’ choreography. Each piece paired with its own hexagram, creating a map of emergence and dissolution. Maria Harfouche's photography dissolves structure into motion where edges blur and time becomes fluid, capturing the moment when form gives way to flowing energy.

A Dance Mag is an independent magazine that looks at the world through the lens of dance. It transcends differences, distances, and disciplines to tell the stories of people from all over the world, who are dancing their lives and giving their bodies a voice. 

Spike #86 is turning to the wild season of youth – life’s Salad Days.

Forget all the Boomer panic about a generational crisis; the kids are alright, living out our hyperconnected present to its strangest limits. New kinds of aesthetics, of activism, of entrepreneurship; new images as much as new perspectives on what images are; and, above all, a new, very quantum attitude towards fact and fiction, history and the future: young people are modeling how to be in our very confused times – and producing some of the most interesting forms of culture we’ve ever seen.

Featuring a Zoomer’s guide to the Slopgeneration; an essay of on being young at art in the Instagram age; a rundown of contemporary art’s nepo babies; reality checks on culture’s obsessions with youth and dying young; portraits of couture-sculptor Tenant of Culture, Turner Prize-nominated photographer Rene Matić, e-waste sculptor Brian Oakes, and Austrian painter Lukas Posch; send-ups of teenage fiction’s ecstatic weirdness and youth-quakers’ political promise; a critique from Silicon Valley of the industrialization of young risk-taking; art’s perfect Los Angeles metaphor; and a splash of back-page advice: “You shouldn’t be fun at twenty-one. You should be tortured.” 

Last year, on a summer night in Marseille, someone, within all the hungry people I am meeting during my dinners, specifically set her attention on my projects. Later during the fall I received a call from Austė ZDANČIŪTĖ, the cultural attache at the Lithuanian embassy in France, who introduced me to Kamilè Krasauskaitè. Since that fall, we kept on exchanging and making future plans in France where she would have a residency. The more we chatted, the closest we began. Kamilè is a almost-thirty-years-old Lithuanian artist that has been including sourdough bread in her work and builds a poetic and mesmerising world around that dimension of food, fermentation, senses, environment, rituals...Through our communication I decided to share that encounter that we managed to welcome in Marseille. We kneaded some bread together, shared it in a forest of Marseillais sunflowers, walked the streets, met people, questioned and compared artists' lives in Europe. This issue might be an excerpt of all the long conversations we had, it was hot and sunny in Marseille, it was in June.