ALL EYES ON: SASHa personeni

I love to explore the awkward spaces between growing up and adulthood in areas where young people are forced to grow up fast.

Sasha is an 18 year old artist from Sydney's inner south west. You can find her on Instagram and Tumblr, and see more of her work here.


the womanhood manifesto

I try to convince myself that the only relationship I've ever has was love.
I know it wasn't, but I guess I just want to be able to speak as if I know
love. But I know the pain. I didn't have pain from a lover's heartbreak,
but I know pain for the transgressions he committed against me and my body.
It is hard to navigate this pain if I without the validation of love.
I do however, have the experience of having had my trust violated. 
It is difficult to navigate the experience of womanhood, as to be a woman
is to inherently know pain. As Jenny Holzer said, no man* knows what it is
to be a mother. The female experience can only be known by a woman*. I do not
understand the experience of Woman, but I know it. All women* I know feel it. 
The strength of sister*hood is stronger than love. There is an undeniable strength
in relationships based on a mutual and universal understanding of pain and suffering. 
So I may not have understood "love" in the context of a woman/man relationship, 
but I know absolute truth, peace and love in the context of my relationship with all women*.



i notice the edges of my vision blur
my fingertips and toes begin to go grey
my hair falls out, strand by strand
my ankle rolls and loses strength
i fall to the earth and begin to smell the rot
the juices of my body expell, my tears dry up
leaving my eyes dry and coated in stinging salt
my skin begins to dissolve
my teeth shatter and roll, lodging in my throat
my bones are bare
the sun begins to char my exposed skeleton
the porous surfaces begin to erode
all proof of my existence gone; returned to dust
i never existed
just like all those before me



That sticky summer
I gorged on your love like blackberries
Binging on the sweet thick red juices,
desperate to make the pleasure last
Eating in fear of the moment they would spoil

Stained cotton and burnt shoulders,
The sweetness gave way to squalor
The juice turning to rotting wine
No longer was the fruit divine
No longer were you mine




a solo date on valentines day

i put on my blazer and a bit of dark lipstick
hair pulled into a ponytail
table for one i asked

i sat by the window and pretended to read the menu
already knowing what i wanted
because i had to wait for 25 minutes with the couples lining up outside

ginger chicken noodles
a cherry blossom gin and tonic
and we cant forget the green tea to wash it all down

i watched people go by the window as i ate
purposely slowing down my chewing so it would last longer
20 pounds for some noodles and gin is expensive

the waiter came round
and with a pitiful glance asked if i was enjoying my meal
its great, thanks

7:07 pm and i was already done
thats too early to go back to the hostel

one capuccino please

it was too bitter