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much to be done

Photo of a stylised and simple drawing printed with 3 colours: red, green, and black, on off-white paper. It features an olive tree growing out of a wrecked tank sat on a mound, its tracks and barrel broken. A childlike figure, head wrapped in a keffiyeh, sits on the tank, they reach out picking the olive fruits, placed into a basket beside them. A flower blooms nearby, and two birds fly free around the tree, one with an olive branch and fruit in beak. At the bottom of the drawing, handwritten with all uppercase letters: “FREE PALESTINE!”

To close out the calendar, a rare proper post featuring this little print flyer from the Institute of Barbarian Books. They had sent a whole bunch over with an order of zines a couple of years back: on the reverse is an illustrated flag also printed in 3 colour riso, and inside the fold, information in English and Japanese on the struggle for liberation and the transnational BDS movement. It’s (been) hard to gather words as demoralisation lingers still, this perennial insulation suffusing over everything on the island fortress, a hostility many have mistaken for safety. How is it that we exist amidst such apparent abundance yet seem so incapable? Or is it precisely the appearance of which that has made us so? An elaborate illusion that has us convinced there will be a slice of pie left to partake in – if only we worked hard enough and win? What explains the hemming and hawing upon orders of silence, all while productivity trudges on, in dense atomised isolation. Crisis normal. But a shared crisis. The terrifying reality of the nation state and extractive interests plays out both in genocide and the everyday curtailment of even the act of imagining a path apart. It must be evident that the call for liberation is necessarily for all – or makes no sense; to be free from these colonial and colonising structures of oppression, those ableist, racist, sexist hierarchies that end life with such ease. If anything has become clearer, it is that everything will have to begin from the interpersonal, how we meet and share our time, energy and care for one another, to fight for and build a life worth living, something shared in common. But there is much to be done.