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#103 1013 vancouver st.
Victoria, BC
Canada

ineffable is a literature & arts magazine that seeks to rouse and relish in the “unspeakable”: the erotic voice, the spiritual fever, the fiercely beautiful. We seek to provide established and up-and-coming artists with a medium for representation, displaying earnest work and creativity while withholding nothing. ineffable is an experiment in open identity and self-expression.

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Justine Sawicz

In•eff•a•ble /ɪnˈɛfəbəl/ — too extreme to be expressed in words; that which must not be uttered

Justine Sawicz lives in Victoria, BC, and is an avid painter, drawer, and photographer. She works primarily in 35 mm film photography on a collection of cameras. Her signature method is to double expose her subject matter in an attempt to see what cannot be seen or to impose an ethereal, surreal influence on her images. She sees taking pictures as painting with light, and aims to capture the essence and feeling of her widely varying subject matter by manipulating the images solely on the camera (with little to none post-digital editing). She is inspired by much of life’s processes including the decaying, the defiant, the blossoming, the crippled, shrivelled, resurrected, the impermanence of life, and more.

Take Those Moments to Exist

Who will know the dancer
When she dances in the mist?
Who will see the truth,
When it glides behind incense?
Who will hear pleas.
When they are stifled adrift?
Who will see your light,
When you cease in this very moment
To exist?

Heart to Feign

Let's stop procrastinating the pain,
The heart can be a hard thing to feign,
I prefer watching the rain,
I wait for my self to wash away,
and reveal the truth,
I swallow in vain. 

Life in the City

Copper skies leave,
a bitter aftertaste,
staring at the forgotten moon,
My heart shrinks.
I can relate,
we're both drowning in tar,
masked by oily clouds,
they sweep on by,
too fast. 

Untitled

I've overstayed my welcome,
I've betrayed my firelight,
My life.
This season rings a numbing hollowness, 
and so the trees pity me,
mourning for the beauty that surrounds me,
that I refuse to see.

 

 

 

A sOUL GEM

a soul gem,
                  sways,
                              dense and deepening,
grew weary,
                   faint, 
                           parched,
                                       wavered,
and faded dimly,

ripe agony,

magic lost its power

silent wishes

pass

 

                           

              You can see more by Justine by visiting her websiteFacebook page, and Instagram: @theomorph

Words and images © Justine Sawicz, reproduced with permission.