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The Interdisciplinary Work of Lyss Warmland.

Posts tagged mothers

Check out my conversation about Sweet Coffee Club with Jeannette Breward!

Sweet Coffee Club is an interdisciplinary creative collaborative between two friends. We create surrealist photos based on original poetry. It’s a project we’ve been working on for almost two years, over the course of both of us becoming mothers alongside one another, and are ready to finally push out into the world. Sweet Coffee is one of the first poems we worked from.

Our work aims to find connection, care, and empowerment through creative expression that centres our relationship with our Selves, our bodies, and a relationship with the earth.

Sweet Coffee Club is unapologetically feminist. This work is about the lived experience of the women we are. It’s political and personal all at once. It’s soft and mean and spiritual and firmly grounded. We are white, and queer, and cis, and anxious, and sore, and tired, and settled, and vulnerable, and honest… but we don’t want Sweet Coffee Club to be just about those perspectives.

You can join Sweet Coffee Club too. Show us, however it makes sense to you, how you, in your body, find connection, care, and empowerment through your relationship with the environment around you. Mention us and hashtag your posts and stories #sweetcoffeeclub 💓

Come visit the in-person exhibit at Happenstance Coffee Pub in downtown Port Hope in November and December!

Check out my conversation with Jeannette Breward and Elle Warren!



We talk about what women empowerment means to us and whether each of the following topics are empowering to women:
– Sex work and porn
– Women only space
– Moms who work out of the house and mom’s who work in the home
– Cosmetic surgery

Jeannette Links:
Previous episode
Facebook
Website
IG

Elle Links:
Previous episode
Facebook
Personal IG
Bon Bon Fashion IG

I’ve been listening to poetry
For hours trying to find
Something that feels as familiar
As you did the first time you
Introduced me to the static
Of this world that mid summer
Burning
Crimson
Red hot
Rose petal
True love
My mother
You were like a Friday evening
And I was Saturday morning
You looked at me like I was
The best choice you had ever made
So when I celebrate you on
This day I am tied to
With the roots of your arteries
On this harvest moon
I’ll hold you at the helm
Of the care that you gave me
While I hear the echo of your
Heeled shoes through the sound
Of the still static.

there was a storm:
snow cascading from the clouds
the doctor
halted by the chaos
sat home by the fireplace
so I was delivered by a
stranger.
there was the cord:
connecting my mother and I
wrapped tightly
around my under-sized
neck, turning my face
blue, like I’d be for
years.
there was my grandmother:
on her own death bed
refusing to 
hold me or see me,
my mother’s daughter,
who took her name
Dorothy.
There is a matrilineal lineage:
and a traumatic birth,
a precursor
for an anxiety-induced
identity formed by
crisis.