thumbnail_BC-WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-300x250_22-07-06.jpg

BC-WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-300x250_22-07-06.jpg

lg_WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-970x180_22-10-25.jpeg

md_WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-970x180_22-10-25.jpeg

sm_WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-970x180_22-10-25.jpeg

thumbnail_WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-970x180_22-10-25.jpeg

WPG_TheShapeofanEcho_CMag-970x180_22-10-25.jpeg

Walter Phillips

lg_220805_ThomasDemand300x250_Static.jpg

md_220805_ThomasDemand300x250_Static.jpg

sm_220805_ThomasDemand300x250_Static.jpg

thumbnail_220805_ThomasDemand300x250_Static.jpg

220805_ThomasDemand300x250_Static.jpg

lg_220805_ThomasDemand970x250_Static.jpg

md_220805_ThomasDemand970x250_Static.jpg

sm_220805_ThomasDemand970x250_Static.jpg

thumbnail_220805_ThomasDemand970x250_Static.jpg

220805_ThomasDemand970x250_Static.jpg

MOCA Toronto Sept

thumbnail_AGB250X300 mobile.jpg

AGB250X300 mobile.jpg

md_AGB-banner.jpg

sm_AGB-banner.jpg

thumbnail_AGB-banner.jpg

AGB-banner.jpg

thumbnail_Banner Mobile- C Mag.jpg

Banner Mobile- C Mag.jpg

md_GOG banner- C Mag.jpg

sm_GOG banner- C Mag.jpg

thumbnail_GOG banner- C Mag.jpg

GOG banner- C Mag.jpg

thumbnail_m-1 copy museum.jpg

m-1 copy museum.jpg

md_ArtMuseumUofT_CMag_HomeFooter-Web_Fall2022.jpg

sm_ArtMuseumUofT_CMag_HomeFooter-Web_Fall2022.jpg

thumbnail_ArtMuseumUofT_CMag_HomeFooter-Web_Fall2022.jpg

ArtMuseumUofT_CMag_HomeFooter-Web_Fall2022.jpg

Art Museum Sep 1

lg_152 Cover

md_152 Cover

sm_152 Cover

thumbnail_152 Cover

152 Cover

**Jac Renée Bruneau** is a writer, editor and organizer based in Toronto. She is currently the editor of _C Magazine_.

Editor

Maandeeq Mohamed is a writer and researcher. Engaging Black Studies and related cultural production, her writing is featured in _Real Life_, _C Magazine_, and _Canadian Art_. 

Reviews Editor

Designer

Publisher

By now we understand extraction as the political-ontological basis for the circulation of resources under neoliberal capitalism—and that agents of such appropriation scarcely do enough to respect, heal, and replenish their sources. From sex work and old-growth forests to ghost towns and lost languages, this issue explores artistic and activist practices that interrogate an array of extractive efforts and attempt to demarcate non-extractive modalities. 

Extraction

Review

For some of us, home cannot be understood as a specific place. In “Letters for Occasions,” Farah Al Qasimi’s photo-based installation, the artist looks at home in less spatial terms: home is joy, rest, family. Time collapses and expands through photographs that collage a global landscape of domestic interiors. In _Kimball Hotel, Springfield_ (2021), a photograph depicts shrimp and strawberries scattered across a thick, pale turquoise fabric, with a pink canopy bordering the bottom of the image. On the right side of the image is a postcard and a menu from the Kimball Hotel. Shrimp and strawberries may be inviting, luscious foods, but the wall text reveals that Al Qasimi’s grandmother discovered she was allergic to both shrimp and strawberries while working as a cook at the Kimball Hotel. In this same image, pinned to a lettuce leaf, is a family photograph of two women whose faces are obscured by jewel-like flowers. This gesture of concealment accords respect and privacy for Al Qasimi’s family within the highly visible context of the gallery space.

_Anood in the Guest Bedroom_ (2020) depicts a woman in a hijab reflected through a mirror. The photograph is cropped in such a way that we barely see her face or what she is doing with her hands while she is seated on a bed beside a golden teapot and a half-full glass of black tea. A passport-sized photograph of a man is pinned to the mirror’s fame, placed in juxtaposition above the woman. There is saturated colour throughout the image, from the yellow gingham curtains behind the mirror, to the ornate green shawl and its mirror reflection. What becomes clear in the flattening effect of the images in the mirror is the conflation of space. One has to look carefully to distinguish the foreground from both the background and the mirror’s reflection. Similarly, in an untitled grainy inkjet print pasted over an entire wall, the eyes of Al Qasimi’s aunt glitter with a smile whose lower half is obscured by a recipe for a spaghetti dish written in Arabic. Al Qasimi places a bright red strawberry amid the mauve-toned floral wallpaper in this image, drawing attention to the contrast between the floral wallpaper’s genericism and the intensely personal strawberry allergy.

Al Qasimi’s vibrant colours and intimate compositions are characteristic of the warmth and immediacy of her approach. Among the series’ most affecting images is _Hand Print_ (2021), a detail of an ornate fabric that could be on a couch. Al Qasimi centres imprints and indentations on the fabric, as if someone who had just been there left their trace. Here, Al Qasimi attends to the quotidian and personal with a tender gaze. While dominant narratives of Lebanese people, Arab communities, and Islamic cultures often hinge on the very opposite of joy, Al Qasimi’s photographed interiors critique assimilation through the specificity of filial joy and personal histories. At the same time, Al Qasimi’s warm images are charged with tension: recall the strawberry allergens that undercut _Kimball Hotel, Springfield_’s bright colours, or the recurring gestures of concealment. _Six Different Screams_ (2021), a series of six small photographs depicting the interior of the artist’s mouth, also complicates the warmth of Al Qasimi’s images. The extreme visibility of her tonsils was a result of Al Qasimi’s attempts to identify symptoms of COVID-19 on her tonsils before screaming into the camera. As if to gesture toward the complicated affective world of diasporic subjects, the repeated images of Al Qasimi’s mouth are placed next to the untitled image of her smiling aunt.

In the exhibition’s accompanying audio discussion, Al Qasimi tells us that “Letters for Occasions” takes its title from a book she read in grade school. The text taught students how to translate letters for different scenarios, such as expressions of condolences and gratitude, from Arabic to English. In these photographs, the scenario for Al Qasimi is a domestic one. In attending to seemingly insignificant interior details, Al Qasimi’s art functions like a prayer. By choosing to represent and enlarge minute details from daily life, she transforms the everyday into something sacred. In this way, the quotidian becomes an occasion for recognition and reverence.

Writer

lg_152-RAMJI.jpg

md_152-RAMJI.jpg

sm_152-RAMJI.jpg

thumbnail_152-RAMJI.jpg

152-RAMJI.jpg

issue-152-p68-70.pdf

“Letters for Occasions” ran from 29 January to 26 June 2022 at Esker Foundation, Calgary. 

"Letters for Occasions" - Farah Al Qasimi 

Eleonor Botoman is a critic and poet based in Brooklyn, NY, whose work has appeared in _Artforum, The Sunlight Press, Interiors, BUST Magazine, The Mantle,_ and more. She currently works as a sketchbook librarian at Brooklyn Art Library and publishes her newsletter, _Screenshot Reliquary_, every month. 

In 2012, Patricia Corcoran, Charles Moore, and Kelly Jazvac coined the term “plastiglomerates” to describe the peculiar geological phenomenon of rock sediment fusing to plastic refuse, a fossil-like embodiment of the Anthropocene. Allison Cobb’s _Plastic: An Autobiography_ (2021) begins with a similar entanglement of synthetic materials as she collects an unidentifiable, discarded plastic part near her home. Like an artefact, the plastic will sit by Cobb’s desk and eventually accompany her on many cross-country trips as she attempts to locate the origins of its creation.

_Plastic: An Autobiography_ contains, in fact, many biographies beyond Cobb’s own story. Like the splintered fragments of roadside litter and polystyrene detritus pushed by ocean currents between continents, Cobb’s poetic prose takes us beyond her fascination with plastic to: the coastline of Hawai‘i where photographer Susan Middleton extracts World War II–era plastic from a dead albatross’s stomach; to low-income communities of colour along Louisiana’s Cancer Alley where residents continue fighting against the pollution of ever-expanding petrochemical plants; and to 19th-century Belgium where chemist August Kekulé conceives of benzene’s chemical structure. Paralleling recent reports of microplastics found in animal and human organs and bloodstreams, plastic is everywhere in Cobb’s collection of historical narratives, simultaneously seen and unseen through discarded objects and toxic emissions. These stories become a spatio-temporal map, as multigenerational linkages trace the escalating resource consumption that has come to define our modern petroculture. These linkages also outline the consequences of such a destructive economy, with its designated “sacrifice zones.” One such sacrifice zone is in Freeport, TX, which is home to Dow Chemical’s largest manufacturing facility. In these sacrifize zones, waste is dumped with little regard for vulnerable residents who grow sicker with cancer and smog-related illnesses.

Another entanglement explored by Cobb: the nuclear. In discussions of the long-term human impact on the planet, plastics and nuclear radiation are understood as separate categories of harm. Yet, as Cobb weaves together their parallel histories of scientific invention, their material lineages are revealed to be deeply intertwined: the eventual key to the atomic bomb’s success is an interior lining of polyethylene (chosen for its high density), separating the detonation into two stages. Yet, the connection doesn’t end there. The Marshall Islands, seized by the United States government in 1944, became the site of a nearly decades-long nuclear testing campaign. While many parts of the island chains remain contaminated and local wildlife is considered too radioactive for human consumption, the Marshallese people now living on its scarred lands must also reckon with an ever-growing accumulation of plastic waste as a result of required food imports.

In 2013, ecocritical scholar Timothy Morton coined the term “hyperobjects” to describe the peculiar phenomenon of entities that exist on such massively incomprehensible scales that they become unbound from spatio-temporal specificity. This notion of hyper-objectivity has been attributed to plastic and radiation alike, with each occupying outsized roles across our bioecological systems through their chemical immortality. Cobb, while not making direct reference to Morton’s ontological concept, acknowledges plastic’s and radiation’s phantomic presence. Feeling the lingering trace of material afterlives in collected plastics and particulates, Cobb decides to act on this “hauntology,” working “to embody and record our pained entanglements.” The World War II–era fragment extracted from the albatross in Middleton’s photo is later identified as a US Navy ID tag from Pacific-based air squadron VP-101, symbolizing the moment plastic production accelerated beyond our comprehension. The leftover radiation from ’50s nuclear testing is now present in the tissues of every living thing on Earth as a marker called the “bomb pulse” which scientists use for dating.

As these materials gradually decay while never entirely vanishing from our lives, _Plastic: An Autobiography_ makes their historical through lines visible through the people whose experiences have been cast aside in the complex emergence of this polluted epoch. The environmental racism that has sickened generations of families in poor neighbourhoods of colour throughout the United States’ industrialized zones intersects with the COVID-19 pandemic, which has also impacted communities along racial and socio-economic lines. Cobb takes us to Los Alamos, a hometown that’s shared by the atom bomb, her own family, and the family of Polish American scientist Stanislaw Ulam, who relocated there to work on the Manhattan Project. In another conversation with a friend, artist, and third-generation _hibakusha_ (atomic bomb survivor) Yukiyo Kawano, Cobb apologizes for the US military’s atomic destruction in an impossible attempt to heal the wounds caused by imperial violence. In Cobb’s text, the consequences of plastic-nuclear toxicity are inherited by subjects in both physical (cancer, stress-related illness, litter, smog) and psychic (grief, anger) forms. History does not repeat itself; Cobb recycles it, as the buried legacies of plastic-nuclear toxicity highlight the ongoingness of imperial environmental violence.

_Plastic: An Autobiography_ ends where Cobb’s story begins: with the same found piece of plastic. After spending years tracking down the origins of a plastic part she found, Cobb finally manages to identify it as a piece of fender liner from a Honda Odyssey, potentially from a first-generation model. Throughout the book, Cobb calls dealerships and corporate offices, eventually locating the original designer of the Odyssey: Kunimichi Odaki. He declines an interview. The material-temporal pieces of this modern fossil are chipped away to reveal the more fragmented histories that informed its creation, offering us a better understanding of our relationship to these pollutive materials, their legacies of waste and consumption, and what is left behind long after we are gone. In the book’s final chapter, Cobb goes to tour a Honda assembly plant where she plans to “ask the company responsible for its manufacture, its birth, to also take responsibility for its never-ending death.” Notably, Cobb is not the one who confronts their factory tour guide in an uncomfortable exchange. Instead, it’s her partner’s daughter Aster who speaks, asking the tour guide why they can’t reuse this piece or take it back as its maker. Like many, this plastic remains unwanted, dislocated, eternal.

lg_152 BOTOMAN.jpg

md_152 BOTOMAN.jpg

sm_152 BOTOMAN.jpg

thumbnail_152 BOTOMAN.jpg

152 BOTOMAN.jpg

issue-152-p62-64.pdf

_Plastic: An Autobiography_ was published by Nightboat Books, New York City, 2021.

 Plastic: An Autobiography - Allison Cobb

Ella den Elzen (she/her) is an artist, researcher, and curator. Coming from a background in architecture, her practice engages with exploratory modes of image making to examine topics linked to migration, extraction, and settler-colonial geographies. She often uses archival research and oral history, along with architectural tools like photography, model-making, and 3-D scanning, to reveal embodied experiences and narratives.  

“Yours To Discover,” Zinnia Naqvi’s exhibition of photographs at Pierre-François Ouellette gallery, wrangled with what it means to be a non-white settler in Canada in relation to personal histories of migration and displacement. Anchored by photographs from her own archive, Naqvi produced a series of intentionally composed still-life images that speak to themes of migration, class, borders, settler colonialism, and national identity.  

For many people of colour, we are often confronted with our own complicity with the multicultural narrative that has been foundational to the settlement of what is now known as Canada. In a tension that is continuously present in the works, Naqvi’s photographs unpack the discomfort of acknowledging this misguided idealism enabled by settler mythmaking, while showing a sentimental depiction of family and migration. 

Titled “Yours to Discover,” the naming of the exhibition is a play on the former Ontario license-plate slogan, which invited publics to traverse and see the province, almost as adventurers. The title is both a criticism of the colonial project and an invitation to come closer and examine Naqvi’s multilayered works. The archival images, featuring cool-toned and grainy film, are beautiful objects in themselves. They show her own family on an exploratory trip to the country, visiting tourist sites across Ontario before ultimately immigrating to Canada from Pakistan. By framing Brown subjects against the backdrop of idealized Canadian landscapes, Naqvi draws attention to who is and who is not expected to discover, challenging the tropes of Western imagery like historical landscape painting.  

Around these images she has placed other clues: books, board games like “Monopoly” and “Settlers of Catan,” VHS tapes of Disney films like _Pocahontas_ and _Aladdin_, and related personal objects that reveal connections between colonial discourses on Indigenous peoples, property, and orientalism. In some cases, Naqvi even literally inserts her hand into the frame, reminding us that she has manipulated and carefully composed what you see.  

 

lg_COR_NAQVI1

md_COR_NAQVI1

sm_COR_NAQVI1

thumbnail_COR_NAQVI1

COR_NAQVI1

“Yours to Discover” ran from 8 January to 19 February 2022 at Pierre-François Ouellette art contemporain.

“Yours to Discover” — Zinnia Naqvi 

In many Indigenous cultures of Turtle Island, the Medicine Wheel is a symbol of abundance and healing that weaves the spiritual and physical worlds together. The four colours depicted on the wheel—black, red, yellow, white—symbolize the four directions, seasons, or stages of life, serving as a reminder that our lives, too, are governed by cycles. Depending on the Nation, the Medicine Wheel can take various forms: an artwork or a physical structure on the land. For me, the Wheel is a representation of the connective values of my people, the Tāłtān Nation of Northwest British Columbia. Despite my participation in this newfound colonized society, I am nonetheless surrounded by my Ancestors, wherever I go. They whisper to me in the wind, they envelop me in their calm waters, and they ground me on this solid, gritty Earth.

In Western culture there is a visually similar symbol: the hazardous materials identification system, which categorizes the various dangerous and toxic effects of chemicals that are used on industrial labour sites. Here, the four colours—blue, red, yellow, white—are depicted to warn users of potential health, flammability, and instability risks. In Postcommodity’s recent major exhibition, “Time Holds all the Answers” at the Remai Modern arts centre in Saskatoon, both the Medicine Wheel and the hazardous materials identification system feature prominently throughout, speaking to tensions between Indigenous worldviews and impacts of colonization.

In _kinaypikowiyâs_ (2021), four multicoloured debris booms hang heavily from the archway to the entrance of the exhibition in glaring shades of blue, red, yellow, and white. The title of the installation refers to the Plains Cree word for snake meat. These debris brooms are used in various bodies of water to capture and dispose of environmental contaminants like garbage, oil, and chemicals. Deflated and looming in length, they wrap around the shoreline like a pool tube forgotten at the lake on a blistering summer day. While the debris boom is made with good intentions, it is difficult to deny that we are creating human-made tools to rectify human-made issues. In contrast, environmental disasters brought on by extraction activities did not exist in pre-colonial societies. There was no trash in the ocean, nor radioactive diseases in fish—the basic consensus to respect the land and its offerings prevented our Ancestors from causing such events. The polarity between these lenses of seeing the world—one acknowledges the power of healing, while the other accentuates the detriment of harming—is made prominent through the associations not just with colour, but with what is viewed as important and essential to classify in everyday life.

In an installation titled _South By North Is Also North By South_(2021), a pile of barrels repeats the blue, red, yellow, and white colours found in _kinaypikowiyâs_. Yellow barrels recall the hazardous materials identification system for radioactive elements like uranium. As one of the most commonly mined and extracted resources in Saskatchewan, uranium is a dense grey metal with radioactive properties that make it ideal for the production of nuclear power plants and military-grade ammunition. Here, the industrial purpose associated with this otherwise bright and sunny colour is weaponized against the very land it came from. Yellow is at once a signifier of destruction and also that which is spiritually nascent in the Medicine Wheel: dawn, Spring, East. One is noxious, the other nutritious: both yellow.

_Going to Water_ (2021) is a multichannel surveillance video displayed on projector screens, materializing the Owens Valley in California. Known as Payahuunadü, or “the land of flowing water,” this place was previously utilized as a popular trading and hunting ground by surrounding Indigenous communities. The valley is now a dry carcass of what it once was due to the aqueduct installation of the early 1900s, which was put in place to provide clean water to the growing population of Los Angeles. However, the detrimental effects were felt by the nearby Paiute Nations of Bishop and Lone Pine as they simultaneously lost vital water access to sustain their communities. The camera footage in _Going to Water_ is derived from a government agency’s documentation of the current conditions in the valley, and is paired with an ambient, wistful soundtrack to encompass the relationship between then and now. The song itself is reminiscent of a sound I am all too familiar with: the slow, guttural hum that reverberates from a hide-stretched drum in Tāłtān ceremony. It is the sound of grief, of loss, of facing the end and being told to move on.

Postcommodity’s exhibition highlights how physically and socially devastating industrial activities have been to Indigenous cultures. It is important to provide our retelling to a one-sided history, as our stories have been narrated far too often by the same settler hands who moulded them. My Tāłtān name, given to me by my grandma, is spelled “Te’ł tā mā.” In English, it translates to something like “walking stick along the shore.” This name represents strength, stability, and perseverance through high waters. Like the walking stick, “Time Holds All the Answers” encompasses the idea of security in identity, despite the tides that threaten to pull us under. Postcommodity offers us a window into Indigenous lives in a world transformed by settler-colonial violence.

lg_Remai_Postcommodity_059.jpg

md_Remai_Postcommodity_059.jpg

sm_Remai_Postcommodity_059.jpg

thumbnail_Remai_Postcommodity_059.jpg

Remai_Postcommodity_059.jpg

issue-152-p67-69.pdf

“Time Holds All the Answers” ran from 18 September 2021 to 23 January 2022 at Remai Modern, Saskatoon. 

"Time Holds All the Answers" - Postcommodity 

Print and Digital subscriptions are available for individuals and institutions

C Magazine

Subscribe to

Feature

I was struck by a scene in the new HBO series _Tokyo Vice_ (2022) when Samantha, the blonde American woman who is living and working in Tokyo, confrontationally asks Jake Adelstein, the Jewish male protagonist and real-life author of the memoir on which this show is based: “Do I look like a prostitute to you?” The subtext is whether she is the “kind of person” who would be a prostitute— who has the “look,” whatever that “look” might be. After all, the work she does exists in blurry proximity to sex work: she is a “hostess” at a club where men pay for women to sit with them and talk. Men pay “by the bottle” for the woman’s time. In her introductory scene, she croons Japanese karaoke songs in a glamorous halter dress, men at tables gazing with desire.

Samantha’s question is a response to Jake asking whether she does sex work. The subtext is that Samantha’s answer will determine whether or not Jake can be interested in her, romantically. When I watched Samantha recoil at the suggestion, I was disappointed but also not particularly surprised. After all, the stigma against sex work and sex workers continues to be startlingly present in popular culture, and normalized in these casual ways. This young, beautiful, white woman must retain her purity in the eyes of the show’s presumably anti–sex work gaze, even if she is being paid to flirt with men: she cannot be a legitimate love interest to the show’s straight, white, male protagonist if she exchanges the physical act of sex for money. If she were to cross that line, she would become a different type of person, one seen by viewers— who see the show through Jake’s eyes— as less worthy of love, value, and respect.

Sex workers are often represented in cultural production, but rarely on their own terms. Take, for example, the recent blockbuster exhibition “Picasso: Painting the Blue Period” at the Art Gallery of Ontario (6 October 2021 to 4 January 2022), curated by Kenneth Brummel and Dr Susan Behrends Frank. As I walked through the show, a seemingly incidental curatorial theme seemed to emerge: Picasso’s representations of women from the supposedly sordid underbelly of society (a long-standing fixation of the French male modernists), including sex workers and, somewhat conflated, women who had been institutionalized in asylum-hospitals like Saint-Lazare. The exhibition didactics were laden with questionable assumptions about women who engage in sex work, including them being downtrodden and in need of representational rescue by Picasso (a tired narrative).[^1] I looked at one painting of a woman who looked uncomfortable, like he is trying to cover herself with a nearby fabric, but not in a titillating way. This was of a “brothel worker,” the description read, whose face gazed “coyly.” Really? I looked back at the figure’s face; it was many things, but coy wasn’t one.

In early 2022, the London ICA’s “Decriminalised Futures” (16 February to 22 May 2022) emerged as a space for sex workers and their allies to represent themselves with embodied assertion and complex honesty. The artists, primarily from the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, and France, represent their experiences through a range of artistic forms, including audio, installation, sculpture, text/wall vinyl, performance, and film. The exhibition pushes back against decades, even centuries, of pre-modern, modern, and even contemporary art history where non-sex workers have represented sex workers in their art. This show is not the first to show work by artists who are also sex workers, but it is the first major exhibition of contemporary art where the work itself is informed by lived experience in the industry, and where the focus is on futurity and what a future of decriminalization could look like.

Curated by Yves Sanglante and Elio Sea, in collaboration with the Sex Worker Advocacy and Resistance Movement, the exhibition features work by 13 artists who keep an eye to the histories of sex workers rights movements and their fights for social and racial justice. By centring decriminalization in its title, the exhibition aligns itself with decades of activism and brings awareness to an ongoing, urgent issue of the criminalization of sex work in countries around the world. If sex work is decriminalized, the movement’s logic goes, then sex workers will not be subjected to the same degree of economic extraction and threats of physical violence, and will be able to do their chosen form of work with more agency and safety.

The alternatives, criminalization and legalization, both uniquely fail sex workers. Proponents of decriminalization who oppose legalization explain that legalization will create an economy in which sex workers continue to be economically exploited, not unlike what has happened with the legalization of pot in Canada and parts of the US, wherein, for example, communities who were disproportionately criminalized when pot was illegal can’t economically thrive with pot legalization. Legalization can lead to monopoly, heavy regulation, and inflated prices. Decriminalization, on the other hand, could allow sex workers to engage in their work with self- determination, without the risks of being put into jail or otherwise violated (by clients, by police officers, by others) that occur when doing their work illegally, in hiding.

What makes local exhibitions that reduce or oversimplify the reality of sex workers’ lives, like the AGO’s Picasso show, all the more harmful is the fact that sex work continues to be criminalized in Canada. “Canada’s sex work laws are harming the people they were designed to protect,”[^2] writes Kai Cheng Thom, one of the most vocal proponents of decriminalization of sex work and prostitution in Canada today. Noting that sex work decriminalization continues to be “one of society’s most controversial issues,” Thom pushes strongly against the view that current laws in Canada protect sex workers; the Protection of Communities and Exploited Persons Act (PCEPA) has been in place since 2014, when it replaced the anti-sex work provisions in the Criminal Code. Importantly, despite the rebranding, the PCEPA still effectively criminalizes sex work by criminalizing the purchasing of sex work and any third-party activities involved in sex work, like advertising; this only pushes sex work further into the shadows, keeping sex workers at risk of violence and exploitation.

Thom focuses on the issue of the decriminalization of sex work from the perspective of both human rights and labour conditions, noting that, statistically, sex workers are often women and LGBT people from disadvantaged socio-economic backgrounds who are using
“their bodies and brains to achieve a middle class standard of living—an opportunity that might have otherwise been denied to them.” She goes on to argue that the right to make money in the way that they want to, granted that only consenting adults are involved and no one is being harmed, ought to be a human right.[^3] Others in Canada who are calling for the decriminalization of sex work include the Canadian Alliance for Sex Work Law Reform, comprising 25 groups that work with sex workers and publish resources such as advocacy guides, law-reform recommendations, and info-sheets that outline the impacts of the PCEPA.

With “Decriminalised Futures,” the exhibition’s curators make sure that the artists are setting out their own terms. One element of the safety measures taken was care around not disclosing each artist’s relationship to sex work unless the artist has publicly self-identified as being engaged in it; and so, they do not say that the exhibition includes only artists with lived experience. When I inquired about this, the gallery staff responded, “Decriminalised Futures is/was a group exhibition featuring thirteen international artists whose work speaks to the multiplicity of contemporary sex worker experiences. We cannot confirm the lived experiences of these artists further.”

This differs from the stance taken by the recent Canadian project _Hustling Verse: An Anthology of Sex Workers’ Poetry_ (2019), edited by Vancouver-based poets/ artists/writers Amber Dawn and Justin Ducharme, which is a collection of sex worker-authored poetry written by 50 “self-identified sex workers from all walks of the industry (survival and trade, past and present).”[^4] The exhibition at the ICA also does well to home in on sex work specifically, drawing a line between sex work and human trafficking (which is non-consensual by definition)—
a conflation that’s all too common in mainstream media, which perpetuates sensationalist and polarizing ideas.

Unsurprisingly, many of the practices behind the works in this exhibition are activist in addition to being artistic, and extend out to literary practices too. For example, Danica Uskert’s and Annie Mok’s _Unsustainable_ (2020) is a graphic novel commissioned specifically for this exhibition that tells the story of a cam girl and BDSM sex worker; displayed as print copies on an encircling plinth, the book looks at sex work with an ambivalence that is not unlike all labour under capitalism—there is some choice there, but there is also constraint. The novel is difficult to read for those with experiences of sexual violence, but it succeeds in grounding sex work in real-life stories told from complex, first-person, human perspectives. I see the return to text throughout the show as a way of underlining the imperative to communicate clearly when seeking to achieve certain activist aims.

Different rooms in the exhibition show different tonal approaches to sex work, each affirming in its own way. In Tobi Adebajo’s installation _eje_ (2022), the room is awash in red light, with small rooms further sectioned off with curtains, and bass pumping through the space: you feel as though you might be in a strip club or another sex work/sex work-adjacent space. On one of the three screens in the three-channel video, not sectioned off by curtains, are the words “Eat the rich” overlaid on a figure wearing a knee pad. While the knee pad might look out of place to some viewers—a protective item typically worn by athletes like soccer players—strippers often wear knee pads when they are practicing, but not when they are performing, to mitigate the physical toll the activity takes on the body. In Adebajo’s collage triptych _exploring the oldest industry…_ (2022), “healing” is placed next to “whore,” and then next to the repeated “work, work, work, work, work,” as part of the show’s larger call for safe and humane, even comfortable, conditions for sex work as a form of labour.

Just as there is labour, there is also space for rest. Artist/stripper/DJ/dominatrix and queer Pakistani Egyptian artist Aisha Mirza’s mixed-media installation creates a nourishing abode. The installation includes supple plants and a vinyl text that reads, pithy and friendly, like its own single-lined poem: “the best dick i ever had was a thumb & good intentions.” As you look closer, you see that this text might be the title of a story, which is written out in the first person as “details from a dream,” beneath a large vinyl portrait photograph of a Black woman wearing black stilettos with her legs crossed, face up on a bed, obscured by the double-exposed photograph of trees streaming with light. Within the installation itself, natural light pours in through the windows and onto the photo too. There are cozy pink and blue rugs and pillows, reading materials, and an assortment of kink and dominatrix-related accessories, like collars and whips. Across from the anchoring photograph, there is a mirror where viewers may look at themselves while they read the text above: “I am a dominatrix, or, I believe you completely.”

In addition to the exhibition in the galleries proper, “Decriminalised Futures” includes a screening of three sex worker- made films from Brazil, Thailand, and Germany, which are available for viewers outside of London to screen online. The films make good use of humour—a dark, irreverent humour—as a way of bringing comic relief to seriously considered, somber issues. _Last Rescue in Siam (สาวน้อยผจญภัย)_ (2012) was made by the Empower Foundation, which “was established in 1984 in Thailand to offer community education and lobby the government for better sex work laws and labour rights.”[^5] The foundation uses art and other forms of media to do this, and _Last Rescue_ directly takes up the effects of anti-trafficking raids on sex workers there. The short film is shot as a black-and-white silent of the Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin variety, replete with ragtime music. The Thai women sex workers perform the Chaplin-esque roles for the camera, including the male roles (police and johns); through the performances and intertitles, they show a raid taking place in a brothel. Slapstick and didactics become a novel way of teaching viewers about a serious issue with comic relief.

Alongside these films, which are all subtitled (_Last Rescue_ in both English and Thai), and other artworks that use text or writing, the curators also make use of text on the walls in the form of quotes by artists and theorists, like Jade Bentil from their _Imagining Feminist Futures_, written in teal: “I struggle with this idea of people being voiceless or not able to articulate; people are articulating their experiences at all times, it’s on us to listen and prioritise those voices.” Literary arts are also featured in the exhibition’s adjacent programming. Alongside the call to decriminalize sex work, the London ICA was smart to include similar political movements as part of an effort toward solidarity and alliance-building, and critiques of prisons and police. This was the focus of the poetry night Exaggerated Claims: Power and Pleasure in Poetry, which featured online performances from six writers who imagine forms of self-organization outside of the carceral state; the roster included Mercedes Eng, a Vancouver-based poet who has long been engaging these issues in her work. She reads her poem “In dreams,” which opens: “The duress / the mess / it doesn’t belong to the ladies and their people / instead / the duress / the fear / is yours.” It feels like she is looking directly through me, the viewer, whoever is out there listening, as she reads into the camera of her laptop with a shaking, solemn certitude. It is a moment of calling in, it seems to me, where the viewers at home reflect on their own possible complicity in these systems that continue to be harmful for women and queers in sex work. Such a move could be said to extend to the larger exhibition, too.

Other programming included a life drawing class with the East London Strippers Collective that sold out immediately; in the sessions, held in person, one of the strippers from the collective would pose on a pole. In this way, living, breathing people who work in sex work or related industries, like stripping, were physically there in a space with viewers/ visitors/artists/art students, who spent time looking at their bodies with a certain care and attention (here, as people drawing to the best of their ability/practicing their craft). This programming choice seems to be an effective way to start to destigmatize sex work by bringing people who may not have had encounters with sex workers previously into close and sustained contact with a stripper and/or sex worker—here, in the “non-sexual” encounter of life drawing.

Despite the diversity of approaches, the show is simultaneously cacophonous and a bit single note: a quote from an anonymized sex worker named Rori in the talk “Bodies, Visibility, and Violence”[^6] in vinyl on the wall as a kind of kin-citation is the takeaway us audiences are reminded of throughout: “If we don’t make this art about our experiences, other people are going to do it.” Given the exhibition’s bold ambition of calling for “full decriminalisation of sex work… across the world,”[^7] at a time when so many sex workers across global borders and in “developed countries” like Canada continue to experience criminalization, violence, and a lack of rights, I believe this requires repeating. When we listen to sex workers with lived experience in the industries, what we often hear—as we do in this exhibition—is that decriminalization is the best option for their physical, emotional, and economic well-being.

The ICA London has a long history of supporting transgression, taboo, and the margins in terms of which artists it features and what kinds of exhibition thematics it pursues. As I consider this show in 2022, I consider too how an institution like the ICA serves as a legitimating frame that provides protection for those included within it by enclosing them, for a period of time, in the safety of the white cube. What happens when the exhibition ends—what happens to the artists, to the artworks, to the ideas, to the calls to action, to the unique kinds of outreach programming, to the relationships fostered—is something that one needs to ask, particularly when an exhibition involves any sort of activism or engagement with a community outside of “the contemporary art world” (as if this world does not already intersect with so much outside of it). As Mirza put it: “If bring- ing an ancient facet of life as reviled as sex work to a space of ‘high art’ (and in my opinion, sex work is the highest form of art) can help initiate conversations about the rights of _all_ people to be supported in _all_ work, then good. If it can quieten the hypocrisy and bigotry which normally surrounds conversations around sex work, then even better.”[^8]

152 FOURNIER.jpg

issue-152-p47-52.pdf

Lauren Gabrielle Fournier explores a London ICA exhibition on the decriminalization of sex work. Curated by Yves Sanglante and Elio Sea, with the Sex Worker Advocacy and Resistance Movement, 13 international artists “whose work speaks to the multiplicity of contemporary sex work experience” bolster this judicial conversation, which Fournier connects to Canada’s current laws.

Dreaming of Decriminalization

**Aamna Muzaffar** is an artist and technologist based in Toronto. She is TD Assistant Curator at Mercer Union, a centre for contemporary art, and a member of the Board of Directors at Art Metropole.

Golden Jubilee: An interview with Suneil Sanzgiri

Tilling: Permanence for Black Diasporic Art in Canada 

Composition: Transplant Collaborations

Nadine Khalil is an independent arts writer, editor, researcher,  
and curator. After a decade-long stint in art publishing, she is currently advising art institutions such as the Ishara Art Foundation and Goethe-Institut on programming and editorial  
strategy. She is former editor of Dubai-based contemporary art magazine Canvas (2017–2020) and her writing can be found in art-agenda, Artforum, The Art Newspaper, ArtReview Asia, Artsy, Broadcast, The Brooklyn Rail, FT Arts, Ocula, and the Women’s Review of Books.

Ebb and Flow / Moving Through Mourning

_C Magazine_ is looking for a new Executive Director / Publisher who will be a strategic and visionary leader of the organization, sensitively, pluralistically, and energetically overseeing the publication of _C Magazine_ for the benefit of the Canadian contemporary arts.

**Position Summary**   
The Executive Director / Publisher position is an exciting opportunity to contribute leadership to an
important cultural organization in the field of Canadian and international art publishing. A strong candidate should be equipped with extensive experience in managing charitable arts organizations, print and/or digital publishing, non-profit financial management, and organizational leadership, and have a profound understanding of contemporary art discourse. The incumbent will demonstrate exceptional skills in managing staff, board, community, and partner relationships, and bring to life the goals of the organization in collaboration with our team, growing and strengthening _C Magazine’s_ local and international profile, while fostering understanding and appreciation of contemporary art in Canada.

The Executive Director / Publisher leads the day-to-day management and organizational development of C The Visual Arts Foundation and _C Magazine_, overseeing the mandate and vision, and the publishing program in print and online. The Executive Director / Publisher is accountable for the strategic plan and operations of C, including finances, grant applications, fundraising, and human resource management. The Executive Director / Publisher is also responsible for the distribution and sale of _C Magazine_, including its marketing communications, promotional events, and circulation. The Executive Director / Publisher works closely with the Editor to manage the production and design of the magazine and to ensure the content serves its readers and the Canadian arts sector–with a commitment to anti-oppression and equity in the visual arts sector. The Executive Director / Publisher reports to, and is responsible to, the authority of the Board of Directors of C The Visual Arts Foundation.

Ensuring that C fulfills its mandate while meeting the standards, policies, strategic objectives, and priorities of the organization, the Executive Director / Publisher oversees and is accountable for the following key responsibilities:


- Works with the Board of Directors (BOD) to develop the mandate, vision, and strategic plan to guide the organization
- Acts as advisor to the BOD on all aspects of the organization’s activities
- Leads and participates in initiatives that establish C’s leadership in the arts sector
- Fosters effective teamwork between the BOD and the Executive Director and between the Executive Director and staff
- Establishes good working relationships with community groups, funders, and other organizations and stakeholders that support C’s mandate

Leadership and Governance

- Ensures the operation of the organization meets the needs of all stakeholders including community collaborators, partners, BOD, and funders
- Identifies and evaluates risks to the organization’s people, finances, goodwill, and image and implements measures to control risks
- Ensures that programs and services offered by the organization contribute to the organization’s mission and reflect the priorities of the approved strategic plan

Strategic and Operational Planning

- Prepares the annual budget in consultation with the BOD and Editor
- Monitors cash flow, anticipated expenditures, and reports regularly throughout the year, advising the BOD on financial matters in a timely manner
- Manages and maintains accurate bookkeeping including in-kind transactions
- Oversees the annual audit and files the charity return

Financial Management

- Responsible for the annual fundraising plan, directing and producing support materials for the annual auction, individual donor campaign, sponsorships, and other initiatives as required
- Researches and coordinates operational, marketing, and employment grants, including writing or reviewing, creating budgets, and directing staff involvement 
- Cultivates and stewards new partnerships, sponsorships, and collaborations that support C’s mandate and goals; negotiates contracts, and ensures benefits are delivered


Fundraising and Development

- Hires staff in accordance with policies and procedures, with the HR Committee as required
- Oversees recruitment, training, and evaluation of staff, interns, and volunteers
- Ensures that personnel policies and practices are carried out, in accordance with the HR Employee Handbook
- Maintains a professional atmosphere in accordance with the Ontario Code of Human Rights, and ensures that fair practices are carried out in accordance with the Ontario Labour Laws

Human Resources

- Develops and coordinates a communications and marketing plan that includes social media and print (with other staff when applicable) for audience development, magazine content, fundraising, events, and programs 
- Coordinates promotional events with staff assistance, including the participation of _C Magazine_ at art fairs 
- Oversees the Advertising Representative contract, media kit development, and advertising strategies

Marketing and Advertising

- Manages operational contracts including office lease, office equipment, and insurance, and maintains a physical space
- Liaises with the printer concerning publication dates and deliverables
- Oversees the production schedule, editorial budget, and issue-related information, with the Editor
- Maintains the physical and digital archives of _C Magazine_

Operations and Magazine Production

- Manages distributor contracts and placements, develops new ones, and oversees distribution in a timely manner that meets the publication date
- Evaluates distribution data and strategies and develops plans to enhance distribution and visibility
- Maintains a secure subscriber database, ensuring correct data input and extraction 

Distribution and Circulation

ROLES AND RESPONSIBILITIES

- Master’s degree in arts management, non-profit management, publishing, or another relevant discipline, or a closely related field in the Arts, Humanities, or Social Science; or equivalent education, training, and experience relevant to the role
- Knowledge and understanding of anti-oppression and EDI practices, with demonstrable commitment and care to EDI in past work 
- Experience in charitable financial management, full-cycle accounting and audit preparation
- Demonstrated success in grant writing and knowledge of arts funding structures
- Demonstrated success in fundraising, and knowledge of related ethics and standards
- Experience developing careful and productive working relationships with partner organizations, art-world peers, donors, sponsors, and other stakeholders
- Experience overseeing and motivating a team, including recruitment and hiring
- Experience in non-profit arts management is required, including policy development
- Experience in print or online publishing is considered a major asset
- Experience managing CMS, CRM, marketing and social media platforms and accounts 
- Experience in database management, including data integrity, mapping, export, and import
- Experience in marketing and communications: planning, coordination, and writing a variety of materials, including e-newsletter and social media posts
- Knowledge and commitment to contemporary art and its concerns, with well-developed networks within the national (and ideally international) contemporary art community

Education and Experience

- Proven ability to effectively communicate verbally and in writing
- Writing and copyediting for communications, in a professional context related to art and culture 
- Knowledge of editorial ethics, journalistic integrity, industry standards, copyrights
- Extremely attentive to detail, with advanced project management, planning, and organizational skills
- Strong systems thinking and proficiency in using and leveraging software and technology to build organizational capacity and efficiency
- Demonstrable ability to work enthusiastically, respectfully, and sensitively as part of creative collaboration
- Self-directed with proven ability to prioritize, assign, and execute multiple tasks simultaneously, and meet numerous ongoing deadlines 
- Training in conflict resolution, anti-racism, or anti-oppression is considered an asset
- Computer skills: MS Office, Adobe apps Google apps, Dropbox, Slack, and Cloud-based business applications such as Filemaker (legacy), Strapi CMS, Mailchimp, Stripe, Paypal

Abilities

- Available for occasional evenings and weekend commitments, including meetings and attendance at events; online and in Toronto
- Ability to work effectively in a remote environment
- Responsible, ethical, and accountable
- Positive and professional, with an engaged, hands-on, and constructive approach
- Driven to advance _C Magazine_'s mandate and vision

Additional Requirements

REQUIRED QUALIFICATIONS

Please submit your application as one pdf, emailed to [hr@cmagazine.com](mailto:hr@cmagazine.com) with the subject: “EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR.” The receipt of your application will be acknowledged. Include only the following in your application:     
        
- Letter of interest (two pages maximum)—include your motivations; your strengths and approach; and experience demonstrating your EDIA commitments
- CV (three pages maximum)
- Telephone or email contact information for three professional references
- A link to any other documentation of relevant experience (optional)
- Voluntary [self-identification form](https://equity.cmagazine.com/) 

**Anticipated Interview Dates:** 14-17 Dec 2022     
Candidates will be selected for assessment based on their application submissions. Candidate assessment will include an interview, and reference checks. We thank all applicants in advance. Only the most qualified will be interviewed.

C Magazine is an equal opportunity employer that uses an Affirmative Action Program to actively increase the representation of equity-seeking groups in the art sector, with current priority given to Indigenous Persons; Black Persons; Persons of Colour; deaf, mad, and disabled persons; 2SLGBTQIAP persons. If you identify as a member of one of these groups, you are invited to voluntarily self-identify using the voluntary self-identification form (available at [equity.cmagazine.com](https://equity.cmagazine.com). Only those who self-identify can benefit from the C Affirmative Action Procedures. All qualified candidates are encouraged to apply and will be assessed on their merits. Canadian citizens and permanent residents will be given priority.

C Magazine is committed to fostering a diverse and inclusive work environment and to providing employment accommodation for those who identify as deaf, mad, and disabled. Please let us know of any accommodation we may provide during the application, interview, or selection process. 

**Contact Information**   
Kate Monro, Executive Director and Publisher       
[hr@cmagazine.com](mailto:hr@cmagazine.com)


HOW TO APPLY

Job Details

C Magazine seeks a new Executive Director & Publisher 

_C Magazine_ is looking for a new Executive Director / Publisher who will be a strategic and visionary leader of the organization, sensitively, pluralistically, and energetically overseeing the publication of _C Magazine_ for the benefit of the Canadian contemporary arts.

Job Opportunity: Executive Director & Publisher 

##### GOSSIP
##### C154—Spring 2023 
##### Accepted until: 1 December 2022

What’s your gossip? As unofficial murmurings, gossip speaks to a misaligned oral tradition. Associated with matriarchal and feminist passing of information—think of auntie types gathering across different cultures—gossip is history, unarchived. What is deemed worth noting down and what is to remain as gossip? Through which processes of confirmation do certain belief systems (e.g. the stock market) become legitimized over others as rational, and who decides this? Does some knowledge remain more useful as gossip, sneaking past dominant structures? How does gossip help us protect each other? How does it protect our labour in the contemporary art world?

This issue invites engagements with gossip through artistic practices and creative criticism. Gossip may encompass wishful future-making in the vein of speculative fiction. It may blur what is considered low or high art-making through the spaces that it can inhabit, such as internet/meme culture and mass media. There are the dark sides of gossip, too, and its nebulous anxieties, when it’s wielded to maintain dominance in gendered, racialized, and classed ways. Possible engagements with gossip can include: oral and counter-histories; superstition; secret languages as survival; how information is circulated; parody and humour; art practices focused on sound and listening; privacy, risk, and surveillance. What can gossip tell us about power, and can either exist without the other?
 
Thematic feature, artist project, and column pitches accepted until December 1, 2022. We suggest pitching early to avoid disappointment. Review pitches, which are not required to be thematic, are accepted on a rolling basis.
 
Send pitches to pitch@cmagazine.com, with a subject line that starts with the word PITCH and goes on to indicate the submission type (review, essay, interview, One Thing, for example). 
 
Please include ~150 words about your subject and how you’ll approach it, including hyperlinks wherever relevant. An estimated word count is appreciated. If you have not written for us recently, include a link to your website—or a copy of your CV—and one or two writing samples (ideally ones written in a style similar to your pitched piece). Submitted work must be original; we do not publish reprints nor adaptations of any kind.
 
Thank you for understanding that we are unable to reply to unsuccessful pitches.

Please see our [submission and writer’s guidelines](https://cmagazine.com/opportunities/write) for more information.
 
Note: we do not accept pitches from platforms regarding their own programming.


Call for Pitches for GOSSIP

Call

Thematic feature, artist project, and column pitches are accepted until December 1, 2022.

**The Board of Directors of C The Visual Arts Foundation and C Magazine announces the upcoming departure of our Executive Director and Publisher, Kate Monro, effective January 2023. Having submitted her resignation to the board in September 2022, she will continue to work with the Board of Directors’ search committee and support the upcoming transition.**

Kate started as Associate Publisher in January 2009, and has had a positive impact on every aspect of the organization’s governance, including operational, financial, and human resource development, as well as overseeing the magazine’s artistic programs and equity initiatives. Kate is deeply committed to supporting contemporary arts publishing and, through her expertise in development, distribution, and administration, and her dedication to mentoring emerging arts workers, she has ensured that _C Magazine_ has not merely survived turbulent times but has thrived. 

"_C Magazine_ is an important forum for voices in the visual arts across Canada,” Kate stated. “Countless artists, art writers, editors, curators, arts educators, researchers, students, galleries, and other knowledge-holders in related disciplines and communities have had significant involvement with the publication since its founding in 1984. Many have also been excluded–a history that C has made it our current mandate to address. I am grateful for the experience of working with the incredible individuals and organizations who have participated in our ongoing project to disseminate their work and provide a forum for challenging new ideas to flourish, and I will miss the endless satisfaction of seeing their work launched into the world, where it continues to live on as an important document of our times. I want to thank the many colleagues who have enriched my time at C and afforded me continual opportunities for learning and growth. I especially want to thank my fellow employees who have given so much, and the dedicated board members, advisors, and interns who have supported our work. I’m confident that with the leadership of a new Executive Director and Publisher and our new Editor Joy Xiang, alongside the rest of our fantastic team, the publication will continue to thrive, make space for positive change, and challenge its readers.”

During her tenure, Kate actively grew the organization’s overall capacity. As Executive Director, she secured donations and grants to support programming, and significantly expanded the annual C Magazine Contemporary Art Auction while establishing ethical standards. Kate has also ensured that C’s resources support the livelihoods of the art workers, writers, artists, and all those who contribute to producing _C Magazine_ by reducing wage gaps and attaining full certification from the Living Wage Network.  Kate embraced the long-term work of formalizing and transforming C’s mandate towards greater inclusion of contributors, staff and volunteers from priority equity-seeking groups. Kate ensured that the organization’s ongoing commitment to the principles of Equity, Diversity, Inclusion and Accessibility was documented, and actualized in continuing Anti-Oppression Strategic Planning and in the organization's Equity and Accessibility Policies and procedures.

As Publisher, Kate has supported and maintained _C Magazine’_s purpose in serving the visual arts community by championing stakeholder's needs, and advocating for and modelling C on artist-run, collective culture. During her tenure, Kate collaborated with C’s editors and many artists, and arts workers to develop a range of programs including C School, an initiative to support educators and students with learning resources and sponsored subscriptions, the long-term Experiments in Criticism program, and the 8-week symposium, Curious Criticism. In 2010, C initiated the C New Critics Award, and in 2021, the Indigenous Art Writing Award in partnership with the Indigenous Curatorial Collective, under Kate’s direction. She also oversaw the continued development of _C Magazine_’s website, which was recently redesigned and relaunched on a world-class platform that successfully prioritizes print publication while enabling more space for digital contributions. The Board of C The Visual Arts Foundation extends its deep gratitude to Kate Monro for her integrity, long-term commitment, and service to _C Magazine_, especially throughout the significant upheavals of recent years. She has been instrumental in building a substantial foundation for the future of C, and we wish her the best as she pursues a Master's in Public Policy.

_C Magazine_ has formed a search committee to start the process of hiring a new Executive Director and Publisher. The job will be posted in the coming days.

Header

Dreaming of Decriminalization

C Mag

The Latest