Elvia Wilk

“It was always the apocalypse,” Laura said. “You guys just didn’t notice until now.”
― Elvia Wilk, Oval

“What did you think?” she asked Michel, smiling.
“You mean that racist shit we just saw?”
Sara raised her eyebrows, signaling that this was out-of-bounds. Only sanctioned critiques, please. “Racist? How so?”
“Snow Yellow?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a comment on racism, it’s not doing racism.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Um, it’s sort of an interrogation into . . . I don’t know, notions of authenticity in the Western world. Like gestural marks that are meant to—maybe—provide like, a feedback loop into network ecologies of beauties, and like, other ways of interaction conceived as data flows?”
Michel looked at her incredulously and laughed. “Who has done this terrible thing to your speech?”
― Elvia Wilk, Oval