About

Dear onlooker,

 

Welcome to 811 Street. My name is Syv, and I am an aspiring memory keeper currently based in Chicago practicing photography and prose. 

 

I am a dreamer born unto two young Black dreamers. My father, a late 70’s baby who grew up moving about different unsafe spaces without feeling protected or cared for, dreamt of becoming a filmmaker. My mother dearest, a young woman born into a small southern town grew up amongst forcibly “small minded” folks who considered her too unapologetically womanly in her whimsical aspirations, dreamt of becoming a painter.  

 

Lifes’ spiraling struggles brought them together in creating me: a delicate spiral of unspoken dreams. 

 

I am an earthly being who dreams with my eyes open rather than closed. 

 

The day I was born, my grandmother was the first to welcome me onto this earth and she would continue to ensure the protection of my being in every space she capable. 

 

However this origin story truly starts beyond my parents’ and grandparents’ lived experiences. Beyond the enslavement of my beautiful Black knowing mothers and forefathers, Beyond imperialist genocide. Beyond the displacement of people of color across this moving sphere, Beyond the repeated violations of Black Queer and Feminine personhood. This story begins with the magnificently kindred trees grounded in Indigenous sovereignty and liberation of all inspirited bodies. The green beings, mountains, soil, and water bodies of our dark earth mother that reflect her love and her pain across the continuum of time.

 

May we dream for her

                                                        by caring

                                                                                                                                         through creation

                                                                                 action

               resistance.  

 

As a photographer, I hope to share my sightings of people, places, and plants as inspirited earthly beings. The images I capture are meant to enliven these spaces and vessels with the potential of welcoming Black folks dreaming, living, and existing in relation to what is known and unknown. Many designed and constructed spaces have not prioritized the enlivening of Black dreams. We as a community are past the point of asking “why.” We must move forward in changing them and making them, by welcoming and placing ourselves in them. Doing it not just for the sake of ourselves but for the ancestors who came before us and for the descendants coming after us.

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What earth do we want remaining for them?

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What earth do we want welcoming our dreams?