From Archer Magazine
I also think that autistic pleasure is queer, in and of itself. It’s queer in its non-normativity, in its subversiveness, and in its consequent proximity to shame and otherness.
Disabled pleasure knows no bounds, bringing an intimacy that goes beyond romantic love, genitals or penetrative sex.
I have not known miscarriage or baby loss. But this image, of a mother waking up to exile from her child, her entire body flung, is deeply familiar and deeply consoling.
If you are an Aboriginal child whose parents have been criminalised, police officers see you as a criminal, too.
It’s like we are refugees in our own country, on our own land. Hunted by coppers and racists alike, we remember how our ancestors must have felt as we live through it.
Very often, I find that as Black people, we are not allowed to outwardly express our anger and pain. It is an implosive reaction. We keep it to ourselves.
My disability and my queerness are both invisible to the naked eye, too murky to be easily defined – so I remain in the grey areas.
With little energy but plenty of desire during cancer treatment, this author found sex had to be left to the professionals.
When you’re a trans person who is criminalised, you are minority in a minority. Unfortunately, we end up in prison a lot of the time because of the way we are treated by society.
How can the mind transcend madness when it’s confined and magnified within these walls?
Love thy holy trinity: in the name of the clitoris, the vagina and the holy vulva – amen… And that’s how you masturbate in Campbelltown.
It’s important to me that people feel the queer love and joy in my work. It’s important that people are able to see themselves in my work.
As a Deaf person, movement is such a huge part of my life. I guess I’ve needed to explore more about how dance is connected to Deafness, and how dance is connected to body language.
“The main focus of my work is a documentation of soft, intimate moments.” Photographer Spyros Rennt talks to Christopher Boševski.
I recently moved into my new physical home and my new spiritual one. This new home is one of acceptance – not only from others, but of myself.
The way the Batik is tied onto each individual is rooted in tradition, like what you may see in the villages of Malaysia.
I had ideas that liberation was possible, but I never felt truly comfortable with my body until I started taking pictures of other fat bodies.
We are excited to announce Archer Magazine issue #17: the HOME issue!
These friendships help tether generations of queers, providing a useful buoy to humanise each other against a broader hetero-stained society.
Gender Euphoria didn’t just connect us with the audience – it allowed people to connect to their own self.
It’s a visual example of how old and new can bond together to create something cohesive and beautiful in even the most challenging circumstances.
In imposing an intimate partnership on a casual friendship with benefits, we both found something truly intimate.