Pronouns: she/her
Anaïsysiria is a queer latina, joyfully loud, colorful, and believes that being silly and so outlandishly herself is how she not only resists but thrives. She is autistic, bipolar and neurodivergent.
Her artwork is intensely felt, with bright vivid colors interwoven with poetry, much like her growing up in a single parent household. Her current art style was born from a manic episode, where the only place she felt safe was in her own art. She likes to go camping, dye her hair, watch anime and dance with herself in her spare time. She uses mixed media and digital art.
Anaïsysiria es una latina queer, ruidosa pero con alegría, y se cree que siendo juguetona y totalmente sí misma es la manera en que se resista pero también prospera. Ella es autista, bipolar, y neurodivergente. Sus obras de arte se sienten intensamente, con colores vivos entretejido con poesía, tal como era su vida creciendo con una mamá soltera. Su estilo de arte se nació de un episodio de manía, en que se sintió segura solamente en su propia arte. En su tiempo libre, le gusta ir de campar, pintarse el pelo, ver el anime y bailar consigo misma. Ella usa técnica mixta y arte digital.
“My brother can’t be dead” / Mi hermano no puede ser muerto”
Exhibited at Rainbow on the Eastside 2023.
My cousin sent me a poem called “Song of the Insensible” by Andrew Kozma. I was struck by his words. Especially the line:
“If my brother’s dead, I am not alive./ If I’m alive, my brother can’t be dead.”
I felt these words deep down, because if my brother is dead there is absolutely no way I am alive. Yet, here I am. A piece of me is forever gone and it can’t be true; it just can’t be. In making my piece, I imagined two Koi fish forever in dance, always together and always apart.
My little brother loved Koi fish, his dream was to feed them by hand. The two fish in the piece are perfect mirrors of each other. I used the symmetry function in Procreate to make it so that they are identical. While drawing them I kept thinking about Noah, he can’t be dead, but he is, but he’s not.
Mi hermano es mi hermano, es decir que vivimos la vida juntos. Misma casa. Mismos padres. Jugamos a los mismos videojuegos. Contamos los mismos chistes. Vimos las mismas películas. Somos espejos. Igual conectados como separados. ¿Cómo que mi hermanito está muerto? Mi hermano es parte de mi, y por eso, si él está muerto no puedo estar viva. No puedo. Mi prima me mandó un poema que se llama “Song of the Insensible” por Andrew Kozma (mira su poema aquí ). La frase que me impactó tanto fue esta: ” Si mi hermano está muerto, no estoy viva./ Si estoy viva, mi hermano no puede ser muerto.” Mi obra trata de ese sentimiento. Dos peces juntos y separados, con simetría perfecta, siendo espejos y completamente perdidos sin el otro.
“Where I am, my eyes are always happy” / “A donde estoy, mi ojos siempre están felices”
Exhibited at Rainbow on the Eastside 2023.
This piece came to be from looking at one of my little brothers’ photos. His eyes were so happy in the photo, as he smiled next to one of his fishing idols. I heard him whisper to me, “Anaïs, where I am, my eyes are always happy.” I wept.
His eyes are now always happy!!
That’s all a big sister could want.
The three sets of eyes represent my little brother and two of his friends who are also in heaven with him. So comforting knowing that they are reunited.
Esta obra nació de una foto de mi hermanito. En la foto sus ojos eran tan felices. De mirar sus ojos por un poco más tiempo de lo normal, lo escuche diciendo ” Anaïs, a donde estoy, mis ojos siempre están felices.” Lloré.
Sus ojos ya siempre estarán felices!
Eso es lo que quiere una hermana mayor.
Los tres pares de ojos representan a mi hermano y sus dos amigos que están en el cielo con él. Tres niños tan jóvenes que nos dejaron demasiado temprano. Me da confort que estén reunidos.
Coming Out
All my life I’ve loved women, but I didn’t have the right words. I called it “deep admiration” for the longest time. It’s not normal to stare at women and gaze at them and want to spend all your time with them?? I would say that every woman is beautiful because that is how I saw them. My brother would always joke with me, “Anaïs, not every woman can be beautiful!” Funnily enough, he was the first person to know I was queer, even before I was ready to admit to myself.
As I grew up, I struggled to see myself with a man, and felt repulsed by them. The only men I could see myself with were fictional and written by women.
Leaving home and going to college really helped to realize that I’m queer. I inadvertently surrounded myself by queer people and saw the beauty of queer joy and love.
I was nervous to come out to my mom and waited 2 years. I was anxious because she told me how grateful she was that I wasn’t gay, because being gay meant a harder life. In a way she wasn’t wrong, but I felt discouraged. When I eventually did come out to her, she was more hurt that I didn’t tell her earlier, and that she wasn’t too surprised.
Despite and in spite of everything, I thank God that I’m queer. Thank you, God. Gracias a dios por hacerme queer.