Contributors

Quintan Ana Wikswo
Contributor History

Biography
Quintan Ana Wikswo (@QuintanWikswo) has long been active at the intersection of art and social justice. Her conceptually based interdisciplinary work integrates fiction, poetry, memoir, and essay with her original photographs, performance, and video. A former human-rights worker, she uses salvaged government typewriters and cameras to navigate known, unknown, obscured, and occluded worlds where crimes against humanity have taken place and whose complex histories involve the intersection of gender, disability, queerness, and race, with a special focus on human-rights aftermath issues. Inhabiting the intersections of sexuality / gender, warfare / power, and mythology / shamanism, she creates sites for investigation of existential questions about humanity, our societies, and how we can navigate beyond the boundaries that contain us. Her several books include the acclaimed collection of photographs and stories The Hope Of Floating Has Carried Us This Far (Coffee House Press). She has presented multiple live performance works and solo museum shows in New York City, the Berlin Jewish Museum, and elsewhere. Her work has appeared several times in Conjunctions’ online magazine.

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Submissions

In Print

Vol. 70
Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
Spring 2018
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

August 14, 2018
The coffee from yesterday warmed up and left in the microwave, the late-December sky two hours before the sun comes up outside of smudgy windows. Sitting. The desk. The bed. The bed the desk. It’s funny the things we hold on to, for no particular reason, or no good reason.
July 31, 2018
Perhaps we should begin in extreme heat
              or intemperate ice,                  in salt solutions,   
              in drastic acid or radical alkaline,         in heavy metals
or in toxic waste—                    wherever life seems improbable
July 24, 2018
First, an unsteady tree of clothing inside the door: the coat rack, heaped with jackets, scarfs and furs, most torn, buttons missing, some stained, all rarely worn as few ever go out—for what is outside the house but another house?