Unsullied Souls explores the celebration of the soul and self identity. Inspired by South Asian metaphors of the lotus flower, the visual process of Unsullied Souls paints the path to enlightenment and captures the concept that celebration arises from suffering. How can we celebrate our inner identities when we don’t experience hardship? In South Asian culture, the floating lotus is a symbol of growth towards purity and enlightenment because even though its roots are in the muddiest water the flower rises above the surface to bloom immaculately. Abstractly, Unsullied Souls is also interrelated to the soulful identity of Khwaja Sira, a term used to refer to the third gender in Pakistan. Historically, Khwaja Sira’s were employed at elite households in Indian Subcontinent states during pre-colonial times and have a presence in both Hindu and Islamic traditions of South Asia. British Colonial rule ended the social, economic, cultural, and political bases that supported this community and the Khwaja Sira continue to be a site of social and power struggles in post-colonial Pakistan because they challenge conventional gender boundaries. In Pakistan, their community experiences suppression and a lack of recognition due to their non-conformity to traditional gender binaries. Khawaja Sira are constantly persecuted through marginalization and judgment as they are pushed away by the society as outsiders. This exhibition reveals the activism of decolonizing Khwaja Sira identities in a diverse and accepted way. The creative process involves the techniques of stamp printing, inking, and stenciling to illustrate the portraiture as well as the floral and substance elements in an intimate and fluid representation.

The impacts of migration are multigenerational. It affects those we leave, those we bring, and those born long after resettlement. Through the action of displacement and in the subsequent retellings of the journey, families and communities begin to blur the lines between individual and collective experience, mixing together their memories of joy, challenge, and trauma. I’ve come to sit with the imperfection of my competing memories—nonlinear, atemporal thoughts that meander and meditate along the erratic threads of experience that connect me and my ancestors to the places we’ve inhabited. In my series, Homecoming, I was particularly interested in examining how memories are carried in our bodies and in the land, how they inform our ability to find belonging in new places, and how queer bodies complicate these processes. The works in this series are lens-based abstract digital paintings that expose the entanglement of my own memories and inherited ones. Yet time decays and transforms thoughts as we bear it from the past into the present. Our bodies are the substrate for memory’s longevity even as it changes and adapts to our form—our behaviour, our physique, our Asian-ness, and our queerness. In creating these pieces, I wanted to honour the complexities of my family and my community’s past. Simultaneously, I wished to acknowledge my own identities which serve as the vessel for these fractured histories.

Sophie Stiquée (credit: Ryan Tremblay) This photograph captures a bold and impactful representation of Sophie Stiquée's identity as a queer Asian African immigrant of color in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. By transforming COVID-19 masks into a striking outfit, Sophie sends a powerful message of resistance and empowerment in the face of xenophobia and discrimination. Sophie Stiquée at Pride Québec As a Francophone queer immigrant of color, Sophie Stiquée's performance at Pride Québec represents a powerful moment of visibility and representation for individuals who share similar identities and experiences. The photograph, taken during Pride Month at Place d'Youville (an iconic Quebecois landmark and blocks away from Quebec City's gay village), captures the joy and celebration of this euphoric moment. Sophie Stiquée at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre After an electrifying performance to the beats of house music legend Adeva, Sophie Stiquée is seen greeting their chosen family and friends who have come to support them at Lady 5 in the Hold drag pageant. This iconic event takes place at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, the oldest 2SLGBTQIA+ theatre in Toronto's village and represents a profound moment of community, love, and celebration. Let this photograph serve as a reminder of the importance of chosen family, community, and representation in creating a more just and equitable world for all. Sophie Stiquée at Toronto Pride This photograph, taken by Ryan Tremblay during Toronto Pride, captures a historic moment in which Sophie Stiquée becomes the first Asian-African drag DJ to perform on the international stage. Sophie Stiquée with her chosen family (credit: Brock Tremblay) This photograph, taken by Brock Tremblay at Glad Day Bookshop, captures a powerful moment of community and celebration within Toronto's 2SLGBTQIA+ community. Moments after the It's All Queer Cycle Show, a showcase of queer drag and burlesque artists of color hosted by Sophie's drag mentor and mom, Tygr Willy, the photograph depicts Sophie surrounded by her drag siblings - Sebastian Urmom, Delirios, and Cyanide. This photograph is significant as it showcases the importance of chosen family and community within queer culture. "Chosen families" is a term used in the LGBTQ+ community to describe the support networks created by individuals who may not have strong connections with their biological or legal family. For queer people, who often experience rejection or lack of understanding from their families of origin, chosen families offer a sense of belonging and emotional support. The presence of Tygr Willy, an Asian-indigenous non-binary drag and burlesque artist, as Sophie's drag mentor/mom, highlights the intergenerational and intersectional nature of queer culture and the power of mentorship and support within marginalized communities.

Theysi Queers is a collective of artists, dreamers, makers, and creators based in Tkaronto. Our vision is to imagine queer futures and realities within the South Asian diaspora. Our mission is to share with you the joy and beauty of the realities we live in. We strive to give flesh to our queer daydreams and create art that represents the multifaceted experiences of the LGBTQ+ community. As Alok Vaid-Menon once said, "Whose standards of authenticity are we being held up to in the first place?" We often find ourselves questioning the lack of vocabulary to describe what we feel for our chosen family, our support system. We reject the idea of being labeled as heterosexual versus homosexual, girl versus boy, sexual versus platonic and instead embrace the diversity of human experiences and identities. Our goal is to celebrate and honor the different forms of love that exist in our lives. In these uncertain times, it is crucial to examine our authentic selves and support each other in becoming our true selves. We believe in teaching and encouraging young people to question the world around them and to embrace their unique identities. As Samra Habib wrote in her book, We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir, "Not everyone is equipped for activism in the traditional sense—marching, writing letters to officials—but dedicating your life to understanding yourself can be its own form of protest, especially when the world tells you that you don't exist.” Unlearning can be a challenging and exhausting process that requires a lot of support. We want to remind you that we are here for you and that we will continue to create art that represents and celebrates the diversity of our community. Artwork Titles: 1. Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin (1956) Featuring Gayle (@gayle_1.jpg, 24, she/they) on the left and Sohini (@sohmusoblue, 24, she/they) on the right. Photographed by Zelina (@cold__heat, she/her). Styled by the ethereal Shradha (@immaterialgir7, she/they). 2. A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth (1993) Featuring Aarti Vasudevan (they/she/he, 22) on the left and Shradha (@immaterialgir7, she/they, 22) on the right. Photographed by Zelina (@cold__heat, she/her). Styling and creative direction by Sohini (@sohmusoblue, she/they) and Shradha (@immaterialgir7) 3. We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir by Samra Habib (2019) Featuring Anika Zulfikar (@anikazulfikar, she/her) and Bisma Jay (@bisma_jayy, they/them). Photographed by Zelina (@cold__heat, she/her) along with Bisma (@bisma_jayy) and Sohini (@sohmusoblue). Self-styled. Creative direction: Sohini (@sohmusoblue) 4. Beyond the Gender Binary Featuring nora (@thatmeanhag, they/he, 15) on the right and Malav (@the_khalnaik, he/they, 30) on the left. Photographed by the wonderful Zelina (@cold__heat, she/her). Styling and creative direction by Gayle (@gayle_1.jpg, she/they) and Sohini (@sohmusoblue, she/they)Recreating Alok Vaid-Menon’s Beyond the Gender Binary 5. Biker Gang Baddies Featuring Gayle (@gayle_1.jpg, she/they), Zuhayr (they/them), nf (they/them), Kinu (@kinjxl, he/they) and Bisma (@bisma_jayy, they/them). 6. Who We Are

There is an essay by Kai Cheng Thom wherein she states that performing funerary traditions as the eldest “son” did not undo her gender or femininity, because by inhabiting the rites of her ancestors she is showing up fully and honestly. That holding of many truths and contradictions in a culture that loves rigid binaries is where I situate myself -sometimes in comfort, sometimes not - as a mixed-race, transgender queer person. Ideas around ‘Eastern’ or ‘Western’ ways we must show up in the world have, at times, felt like toys, like shelter, and sometimes like cudgels. It is a beautiful space to inhabit, and it is also quite lonely, and I see that loneliness in my communities. Relatedly, the eurocentric lens deftly severs our sense of lineages, spiritualities and relationships with the land. Much of my art is in practicing a type of grief over my own busted connections to the peoples and lands of my predecessors, with the lands I have been born on — and reaching out to find others like me, carving pathways towards ourselves and each other. My newer work is the result of ruminating about blood lineage, frayed thoughts about my family and non-blood community, and trying to find ritual acknowledgement of my connection to these relationships. What does it mean to be inherently connected with one’s ancestry? How can this relationship be reconciled when it is likely that my predecessors colonized the ancestors of my loved ones? How do we metabolize that shame? When I am with my comrades, what should I do with these conflicting feelings that we must hold each other close to survive while and at times have extraordinarily hostile conflicts that result in and come from multi-generational traumas? I'm thinking a lot about the pureness of anger too: anger that has no place to go, that is passed from parent to child, lover to friend, and is absorbed into the collective miasma. Unseen and unaffirmed, the anger turns inward to our spirits and seeps from our mouths and fingertips to touch the people that we want to care for. I've been finding peace by filling the picture space with multiple figures either in combat and/or intimacy. Some of my most cherished relationships and deepest betrayals have been with people who look like me, so I work through that on the canvas or the page. To some of us diaspora, the homelands of shared identity can feel like a clear pool of water in a desert. Often it is, and sometimes it is a mirage. One of the traps of colonial thinking is to assume that finding a space populated by people like us will end a type of diasporic loneliness intrinsic to having fragmented and complex identities. I don’t believe a place of perfect mirrors of ourselves and healing exists, and I feel my heart reaching for it, while also resisting assimilation. The figures in my work echo this tension, and are in a cycle of looking for community, losing community, being in conflict and mending all in the same picture frame. I use masks and chimeric elements to indicate a sense of sameness and the grace needed to connect across grave differences. In my art I also think a lot about queer (white) culture in the colonized West and how inescapable it has been to my own sense of self, in particular how I conceive of my sexuality and desire. In my work I try to stare the Eurocentric gaze directly instead of avoiding it, because it is a part of me, and I don’t think it can be cleaved off without losing important parts of myself: like any trauma it is something to grow around instead of bury. The sexuality in my art takes the orientalist gaze and twists its form into something self-made, hedonistic, gay and proudly monstrous.

Ness Lee’s work is an investigation of the human form dealing with notions of intimacy and self-love. Rather than the emphasis on the physical form, the emotional resonance and presence is brought to focus in periods of vulnerability, discomfort and acceptance. Using various mediums, she explores and echoes these emotions, encompassing its tactile experience into one that is filled with a depth of feeling, playing on humourous rhythms and self-exploration. Photo credit: Lulu Wei