I made this play for you. It is a question, for us to hold together.
Is all intimacy about bodies? What is it about our bodies that makes intimacy? What happens when our bodies distance intimacy from us? This small anthology of poems and short stories lives with these questions—about having a body without intimacy and intimacy without a body. This project is also a homage to everyone who has come before and alongside me, sharing their vulnerability and emotions on the Internet. I called the places where these things happen backplaces. They are small, tender online rooms where people experiencing societally uncomfortable pain can find relief, ease, and transcendence.
I made three backplaces for you to see, click, and feel: Solar Sibling, Hermit Fantasy, and Cake Intimacies. Each of these is the result of its own unique performance or project. Some of the stories I will share carry memories of pain—both physical and emotional. As you sit in the audience, know I am with you, holding your hand through each scene. If the performance feels overwhelming at any point, you have my full permission to step out, take a break, or leave. This is not choreographed, and I care deeply for you.
This is the Index, the stage of my play. Each felted item is an act.
This is the Index, the stage of my play. Each felted item is an act.
Solar Sibling is an online performance of shared loss about leaving and siblings. This project used comments people left on TikTok poetry. I extracted the emotions from these comments, mixed them with my own, and crafted them into poems. It is an ongoing performance, ending only when your feelings are secretly whispered to me. When you do, by typing into the comment box, your feelings are sent to me and the first act closes as the sun rises.
The initial comment shaped poems and their sun count.
The initial comment shaped poems and their sun count.
The fillable comment where you can whisper your feelings to me.
The fillable comment where you can whisper your feelings to me.
Hermit Fantasy is a short story about a bot who wants to be a hermit. Inspired by an email response from a survey I conducted about receiving emotional support on the Internet, this story explores the contradiction of being online while wanting to disconnect. As an act it’s a series of letters, click by click.
The first letter.
The first letter.
The second letter.
The second letter.
Cake Intimacies is a performance that took a year to bring together. It is a small selection of stories people told me and I held to memory and rewrote here. The stories come from two performances I hosted. First, I asked participants to eat cake, sitting facing or away from each other and sharing their stories about cake and the Internet. The second performance was hosted at the Art Meets Radical Openness Festival, as part of the Turning of the Internet workshop. For this performance, I predicted participants’ future lives on the Internet using felted archetypes and received stories from their Internet past in return. Now the stories are here, each of them a cake with a filling that tells a story, merging the bodily with the digital and making a mess of it all.
The first two stories and their memory illustrations.
The first two stories and their memory illustrations.
The second stories in the way they were meant to be experienced.
The second stories in the way they were meant to be experienced.
The play ends as all plays do. The curtains close, the website stays but the stories will never sound the same. For the final act, I give you the stories. It’s one last game, one last joke to ask my question again. Digital intimacies about the digital, our bodies and the cakes we eat. For the last act, I ask you to eat digital stories. To eat a comment, to eat a digital intimacy. Sharing an act of physical intimacy with yourself and with me, by eating sweets together. Sweets about digital intimacies that never had a body. There is no moral, no bow to wrap the story in. A great big mess of transcendence into the digital, of intimacy and of bodies. The way it always is. Thankfully.
Accept My Cookies, biscuits for the performance.
Accept My Cookies, biscuits and bows for the performance. </p>
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<p><em>ada (just ada please) sometimes calls herself a designer and illustrator, sometimes a writer, sometimes a pastry chef. Mostly she calls her friends. </em></p><br>
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<ahref="https://stephenkerrdesign.com/theeeeesis/"class="ext">⊞ (the
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<aid='getback'class='int'> go back </a>
<aid='getback'class='int'> go back </a>
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Hi. I made this play for you; it’s a question to keep us alive together. Is all intimacy about bodies? What happens when our bodies distance intimacy from us?
Backplaces is a web-based play. A short anthology of poems and stories about vulnerability, intimacy, and the internet. It explores the internet as a place for holding big feelings and intimacy when it is unbearable. As an homage to those who have have been vulnerable with me I created "backplaces". They are tender online spaces for relief and acknowledgement of societal pain. Some of these stories may evoke memories of pain. As you sit in the audience, know I am with you. If it feels overwhelming, you can step out, take a break, or leave. This isn't choreographed, and I care for you.
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I hope you see what I saw in these stories. Sweet dreams now, and I'll talk to you soon.
<p>Told you I’d talk to you soon. This is the first act of this play, Solar Sibling. It reimagines user comments from TikTok videos about sibling relationships. To do this, I have taken the feelings behind the comments, found where they met my own, and used our shared words to write poems. Solar Sibling celebrates the vulnerabilities nurtured in online communities and invites you to share anonymously on the complexities of sibling relationships. Once you have whispered your sibling feelings to me, they will stay with me and I will never use nor share them.
<p>Hermit Fantasy is a short story about a bot and a hermit. It started when I conducted a survey about receiving emotional support on the internet. This is an imagined response to an email I received. The story explores the loneliness of both being online and offline. As an act, it's a series of letters, click by click.
<p>Cake Intimacies is a performance that took a year to bring together. It is a small selection of stories people told me that I held to memory and rewrote here. The stories come from two performances I hosted.
<br>
In the first, I asked participants to eat cake, sitting facing or away from each other, and share stories about cake and the internet. I hosted the second performance at the Art Meets Radical Openness Festival. There I predicted participants' future internet lives using felted archetypes. In return I received stories about feeling strong emotions on the internet.
