HEAT WAVES

welcome to
heatwaves
A summer of pandemic-induced anxiety and resistance
meets; a newfound appreciation in sharing fruit bowls with loved ones, not being able
to reach out to loved ones, tall glasses of fresh lemonade sweating and glistening
under the sun, yelling through medical masks to join the chorus of voice demanding
justice. What has summer taught you? What have you been itching to say, to express
to the world?
Smiles kept safely hidden beneath masks, bubbles of
interaction and endless spaces kept intact. Rivulets of sweat
merrily tumble down the line of your back;
watermelon soaring up to the top. The sun's heat is
mighty outside but I sit in this cold room, a fierce and
constant fear of next pushing against my chest. What
do you want to let go of this summer? What fears
will you be carrying with you into the fall?

L E T T E R S F R O M
T H E E D I T O R S
Watching shadows dance on bedroom walls as the sun rises in the East and sets in the West.
Twenty four hours become a hundred and sixty eight as each day blends into the next.
Summer has become a season of loss and unrest, so we turn to its roots in revolution. We take
inspiration from the sun and all its lovers; burning with rage and no conviction, screaming
“WE ARE HERE, SEE US, HEAR US”.
To Our Readers,
HEAT WAVES was created to memorialize
diverse experiences of simultaneously
navigating a global pandemic and
widespread uprisings. Whether it was
reminiscing about what summer meant
before 2020, redefining summer in terms
of resistance, learning to rest, or finally
giving yourself permission to heal - we
asked for your words and your art to
show us what this summer meant to you.
Putting this zine together has been an
amazing experience. Thank you for
trusting us with your stories. Before you
dive into this beautiful collection of
artwork, I want to remind you; to keep
reaching out for a hand to hold, to keep
that fire burning, to use that passion - do
not let it go unseen. Someone will always
be there to take your hand.
Warmly,
Iqra Abid
Editor in Chief (she/her)
Noise Amongst the Heat Waves by Kofi Oduro

L E T T E R S F R O M
To Our Readers,
T H E E D I T O R S
In a world that is so tumultuous and
uncertain it makes one’s chest feel heavy
with every inhale, it has become
increasingly difficult to process the millions
of terrible things that are happening
constantly, unrelentingly, daily. I
understand that overwhelming feeling of
despair and I think I can say, with an
abundance of certainty, that many of you do
too.
During times of crisis and change, which
often go hand in hand, many of us have
been turning to art. We escape between the
lines of our favourite stories or make sense
of a revolution through the fiery words of a
beloved poet. We lay on the floor with the
voices of our favourite singers pressing into
our ears and paint a changing world with
watercolours. Art is beautiful because it is
so powerful. It truly can bring us together in
a way that nothing else has managed to.
This summer has been intense and gruelling
- unlike any summer any of us probably
have ever had. Here at the Kiwi Collective,
we have had the pleasure of curating some
incredible works of art by immensely
talented contributors that are
representative of this summer filled with
“Heat Waves”. As you take in these works of
art, I implore you to take some time to
reflect upon your own experiences this
summer. What new perspectives have you
been actively pursuing? What are you
fighting for? What is important to you?
Thank you for your support.
Sincerely,
Shaki Sutharsan
Assistant Editor (she/her)
Dear Reader,
I want to start off by saying thank you for
reading Heat Waves and for being here to
share this experience with us. I never would
have imagined being in a space where myself
and others can celebrate our artistry in a
space that isn’t predominantly white. I
imagine you will feel similarly when I say
that as a person of colour, I have always
longed to see myself represented in media
and art. That is why the Kiwi Collective is so
important to me. It is so beautiful that you
are able to read this magazine, a platform for
BIPOC artists to flourish and highlight their
greatness, to be represented, uplifted, and
inspired. This is for all the BIPOC individuals
who never believed they could pursue their
art because they never saw themselves
represented, never had a role model that
looked like them, never had anyone who
believed in them- this space is for you. It’s
because you are here that Heat Waves was
made possible. I hope, as this magazine
continues to grow, that you will join us on
this journey and grow with us.
Sincerely,
Darnie Tran
Content Editor (they/them)
KIWI
COLLECTIIVE
MAGAZINE

Table of Contents
The Mountain is Out by Aleenah Ansari ----------------------------------------- 1
Fôlego by Lívia Pessôa ----------------------------------------------------------- 2
Day 143 by Viridiana Crespo ----------------------------------------------------- 3
Still Life by Roshan Cardoza ----------------------------------------------------- 4
Natural Disguise by Roshan Cardoza -------------------------------------------- 5
we literally won't settle for anything less by Maha ------------------------------- 6
I by Jeremiah Gittens ------------------------------------------------------------ 7-8
Looking Up by Aleenah Ansari --------------------------------------------------- 9
II by Jeremiah Gittens ------------------------------------------------------------ 10
Temple Festivities by Aleenah Ansari -------------------------------------------- 11
III by Jeremiah Gittens ----------------------------------------------------------- 12
Girl with leaves 0.2 by Whitney Manassian -------------------------------------- 13
i heal. by Shaki Sutharsan ------------------------------------------------------- 14
Melt by Izzy Johnson ------------------------------------------------------------- 15
Let Us Melt by Ivy Starker -------------------------------------------------------- 16
Friendship in Times of Corona by Eva Ojeda F. ---------------------------------- 17
Earth Tones by Aleenah Ansari --------------------------------------------------- 18

Table of Contents
two a.m. by Tramaine --------------------------------------------------- 19
two p.m. by Tramaine --------------------------------------------------- 20
I wish we didn't finish the water by Maha ------------------------------ 21
fish by Catalina Aranguren ---------------------------------------------- 22
Emission by Sonal Jadhav ----------------------------------------------- 23
graveyard by Heba Elhaddad -------------------------------------------- 24
Watura by Oshi the Artist ---------------------------------------------- 25-26
hot stuff by Manasvi Vora ---------------------------------------------- 27
Wonder Lust by Aniliyah Richardson ---------------------------------- 28
Interluau by Roshan Cardoza ------------------------------------------- 28
white fucking audacity by Maha (contest winning piece) ------------- 29
Melting Point by Nafisa Sayed-Motiwala ------------------------------- 30
thirst by Naval Khalid ---------------------------------------------------- 31
Artist Biographies -------------------------------------------------------- 32

The Mountain is Out
Part of the "Anywhere but here" series
by Aleenah Ansari
1

to lose one’s breath
/’foleɡʊ/
Fôlego
Lívia Pessôa
2

Day 143
Viridiana Crespo
3

Still Life
Roshan Cardoza
4

Natural Disguise
Roshan Cardoza
5

we literally won’t settle for anything less
aha
6

I
Helios
kisses the top of my head
a thousand times
lingers longer with each one
July fades to august
Closeness breeds familiarity
(I became a tired god’s confidant)
“Helios and Rhode” by Freder
He grows comfortable
breathes deep the scent of hair
warmed under the suns touch
wraps his fingers of light
in soft curls
settles into me
his copper kisses migrate south
hot on my neck
summer moves along the hemisphere
in the midst of embrace
he offers me burning prayers
tells me
how tired he has grown
of worship
all these thousands of years of myth
pinning him to the sky.
Cyclical life:
Dawn Noon Dusk
Always towing the sun somewhere
gods, after all,
are shackled to the whims of their devout:
first crying for light
than begging for release from the sun’s bright eye
7

ric Lord Leighton, 19th century
Mighty Helios
must oblige
bend to the demands of fickle creatures
or risk being hated
worse
risk being forgotten;
humans always overlook constants.
And where
would the gods exist without belief?
how small they would become
Miracle workers for beetles,
if only insects worshipped
So around
and around he goes
in his blazing chariot
But in these long hot months we have asked for
he has time
to pause
look lovingly
colour me honey and cinnamon
offer me his gold sacraments
rest in my arms
in that most tender of temple
she collapses into confession
Telling me
how weary he has grown
of his divinity
By Jeremiah Gittens
8

Looking
Up
9
BANGKOK, THAILAND
BY ALEENAH ANSARI
FROM "ANYWHERE BUT HERE" SERIES

I I
S p e e d i n g c a r
a l o n g s u m m e r ’ s g o l d h i g h w a y s
p a s t A u g u s t ’ s o r d e r l y o r c h a r d s
h e r u n k e m p t f i e l d s
l a c k b e r r i e s g r o w r a m b l i n g a n d r a m p a n t a l o n g t h e
B
h o u l d e r
s
h e i r h e a v y p e r f u m e
t
g r a z e s i t ’ s f i n g e r s l a z i l y
t h r o u g h t h e o p e n w i n d o w s
a c r o s s t h e f r o n t s e a t
s l o w l y s t i r s t h e s l u g g i s h a i r
H o w
d o I d e s c r i b e t h i s ?
h e w a y t h a t e v e r y t h i n g i n s u m m e r i s i m m e d i a t e l y a
t
e m o r y ?
m
o w t h e s e s u n - s o a k e d r o a d s b e c o m e a t i m e l e s s s p a c e
h
t a c k e d m i r a g e s
s
r a n s c e n d e n t s e n s a t i o n
t
t h i s p r e c i s e c o m b i n a t i o n :
H e a t , s w e e t , d u s t a n d g o l d
T h a t i s b o t h m e a t 8 a n d 8 0
t h a t i s c h i l d h o o d
a n d f i r s t l o v e
a n d l a s t l o v e
a n d l a s t d r i v e
a l l a t o n c e ?
S u m m e r i s a s t r a n g e b e a s t
l e n s f l a r e s a n d f i l t e r s o f h e a t
i t c o l o u r s e v e r y t h i n g l i k e o l d f i l m
I b e c o m e
u p r o o t e d
r i f t t h r o u g h t h e s e s c e n e s l i k e d a n d e l i o n s e e d s
d
d u s t a n d p o l l e n
i l d f i r e s m o k e
w
v e r y t h i n g g r o w s h a z y
e
e v e r y t h i n g h a p p e n s i n p a s t t e n s e s u m m e r a l w a y s
s e e m s t o b e o v e r
b e f o r e i t h a s e v e n s t a r t e d
t h e r e i s n e v e r e n o u g h o f i t
t o s a t i s f y m e
B y J e r e m i a h G i t t e n s 10

Temple Festivities
Part of the "Anywhere but here" series
by Aleenah Ansari
11

III
Jeremiah Gittens
12

Whitney Manassian
Girl with leaves 0.2
13

i heal.
Shaki Sutharsan
14

Melt by Izzy Johnson
15

Let Us Melt by Ivy Starker
The blanket is bunched in the far corner of your bed
And everything is so very loud.
The orchestra of rain
Against drain pipes,
Wooden boxes left in alleys,
And the plastic tricycle
The neighbour's kid left in the yard.
Sleeping an after thought
You want to dance in the rain.
Get your pyjamas wet and you toes dirty.
Stare back out into the rain,
One last glance before you go back to bed
naked, clothes scattered across your room,
The cold blanket wrapped up to your chin.
The summer will soon be high,
Properly humid and languid
Your body feels like molasses,
A moment's bliss
Worth the consequences.
Wet concrete and cold air,
They call this petrichor.
You take the wooden staircase,
Fast,
quietly.
Gaze through the screen door,
Your neighbours house unfocused
As you stare at rain.
Brave the outside,
Past the porch your father made,
Into the grass you trimmed just yesterday.
The tulips in mother's garden join the fray,
Summer's residual heat licks your nose,
Kissing your taste buds.
That might be lemonade.
The sun is hours away from your horizon,
But the children of the sky want you awake.
Like cupid's arrows, desperate to make you fall,
Droplets land with intensity on your skin.
Soak into cotton pyjamas and satin hair.
Your foot falls match the rhythm of the rain,
You are waltzing with mother nature's children.
They spin you around, and caress your skin
Show you love you've never seen.
Exhaustion settles in,
You lay your back against the grass,
Uncaring od future colds or later discomforts,
Knowing the heat soon to come is unforgiving.
Violent in ways the rain cannot be,
Your body wrapped in the chrysalis
Of this weather bliss, beneath these clouds
And the moon you cannot see.
16

R I E N D S H I P
F
N T I M E S O F
I
O R O N A -
C
E A T W A V E
H
E v a O j e d a F .
17
“Friendship in times of corona - heat wave is a
watercolor illustration that portrays a moment
that I shared with my roommate on one of the
warmest days this summer. This is part of an
ongoing series that seeks to focus on small
bits of happiness that we have had during this
pandemic and that have made things
somehow easier to handle. As two brown
people living outside our home country, these
months have been quite challenging in a
number of ways, but getting ice cream
delivered on a hot day and then laughing
about it melting on the way can make things
lighter.”

E
A
R
T
H
T
O
N
E
18
S
S a n t o r i n i , G r e e c e
B y A l e e n a h A n s a r i
F r o m " A n y w h e r e B u t H e r e " S e r i e s

two a.m.
by Tramaine
you are telling me to act like nothing happened.
you are telling me to grow up yet you play pretend.
you are telling me so much in those empty words.
my body disobeys. my mind resists:
fights against purging you from my nervous system,
constantly reminds me of how gently you held me,
kept me spellbound with the whisper of lips,
melted my skin into butter with the touch of your hands,
derailed my thoughts with the gravel of your voice,
explored the terrain of my body with divine patience,
awakened parts of me after an eternity of hibernation,
consumed me in a fog and left me gasping for air,
drowning in the roar of my own wildfire.
i am asking you if something happened.
i am asking you to be honest yet i live a lie.
i am asking you too much in those heavy words.
19

two p.m.
by Tramaine
i remember and patiently recollect that night
piece by piece.
i find another fragment tucked away in
my thoughts every day.
i remember that i shut my eyes when you
sighed and kissed me.
i wish i had known you were sealed in my memory.
each time i disappeared in your arms,
each time i was intoxicated,
each time i was infused with you.
my name rolled off your tongue
slowly and carelessly,
dripped on the blankets like raw honey.
the scent is clinging to everything.
you set my nights on fire,
now the heat has invaded my daydreams.
my face was naked with want.
now my skin is burning with need.
you enter my thoughts and make yourself at home.
you leave the door open and the chill of reality
trails in behind you.
you spread out on my skin and become a warm quilt,
a patchwork of things unsaid.
you muffle the cold but you leave the door open...
why do you leave the door open?
20

21
I wish we didn't finish the water by Maha

fish
Catalina Aranguren
22

Emission
By Sonal Jadhav
23

graveyard
praying by his name has wounded me a wound deep enough to bury the ashes my mother
left when she wore me as a shield the day her body turned into a graveyard,
she knew my entire being would crush for her roots to grow back just as he knew that he was the
only war worth fighting for,
the day he fell down my skin like a deadly weapon landing over the livings to turn them to
remains,
the day he rooted his faith underneath my skin to breathe life to me like a mother’s bloodstream,
the day he seeded himself within and grew like something inside of a mother would grow,
my head hasn’t turned to the place where darkness resides for he became the point of faith,
i ceased to exist anywhere but in the moment of each heartbreak he caused,
upon the edges of the roughest and darkest words he uttered,
almost if i am unable to write about anything but the moments between blooming and falling
apart,
like a sinner i fell down my mother’s knees as she shielded me the way my body did when hers
turned into a graveyard,
the day i evaporated from her arms like the ashes of a phoenix and came out of it alive
praying by his name as i confessed to him,
come skin me to the bone for i come out of my skin for you,
come build me like a city built from the remnants that rested on the ground glued with the gods’
promises to forever be still,
promise me you tend to leave this world with a broken heart inside my chest and a ribcage that
fights any heartbeat if the heart tries to trap another’s in,
tell me you want me to play your name like a gospel hymn over the ashes of my own heartbeat as
you prayed for the earth beneath your holy being to stand still when i suddenly stop whispering
the words to your own heartbeat,
tell me like the dawn you want me to die and crawl my way back to your knees,
then break me in half to find my ashes falling like an angle casted from heaven as i gasped for air
when your love has held me like the last heartbeat of a martyr before he gave himself away,
touch me until my skin becomes a piano symphony played in a church for a martyr who gave
himself away so no one else has to,
leaving behind a mother walking him into his grave and leaving empty handed,
the day my poem turned into the sound of a mother’s prayers for the dead to be reborn,
a poem in which she knelt writing upon my skin left a taste of anguish that never ceases to
burn me to ashes,
and all that lingered was my burning ashes as i felt him wholly now my heart turned into the
sound of a broken bow across a lonely violin,
as i write the softest verses and melt into the air with an internal anguish that lived among old
bones for he is reclaimed by another whose at heart was a sinner,
By Heba Elhaddad
24

W A T
U R A
title of t
The
which m
Watura,
T
Sinhalese.
and
calming,
the r
Watching
off th
reflecting
waves
gentle
forth on
and
entran
y O s h i b
h e A r t i s t
t
25

water .
eans
water is he
life giving.
d
the su
ipples,
surface, or
e
back
dancing
shore is
the
cing.
the bubbling, the splashing
Hearing
gentle water calms the
of
Feeling the cool liquid
physiology.
around your skin or
wrapping
down your throat takes
flowing
the discomfort of sitting under
away
hot sun. The water has always
the
a place of solace to ease
been
In the heat of the
discomfort.
our bodies need water to
summer,
Watura depicts the beauty
survive.
this important element.
of
his series
26

27

28

white fucking audacity
by Maha (contest winning piece)
literally fuck you, grimacing
into suburbia's cul de sac my
phone's flashlight illuminating
the guilty presence of
entitled lockeans, neighbourhood surveillors,
anti-Black and brown wannabe cops.
summer air bristles against
my skin in its excitement
for vengeance
we're community now,
a s s h o l e
so we're searching for
our missing cat, postering,
shaking treats, toys,
calling her name - taking up
white space, white people
love their pets you'd think
they'd be helpful!
skies darkened our threatening/
our presence, further -
though they're bold on
matter the sun's availability
questioning if we had "permission
to be walking all over" our
friend's lawn -
he really left his porch
to come interrogate, talk down to, unsettle us.
you speak our voice;
I strengthen the lungs.
fight is easier than flight,
with co-conspirators,
community
protection in bodies who
belong with us
asking for help can be
hard, sometimes I'll do it
no problem you'll
defend us on the spot and
it's exhausting, my love;
we make a great team now
we see him again we're
surrounded by friends
who doesn't belong now, bitch!
ah, the caucasity he had,
I laugh vindicated in the
middle of the street
his eyes shift to avoid eye contact,
we return his wandering dog (to)
his property
the air feels warmer in solidarity.
you speak our voice;
I strengthen the lungs.
how could/dare we
belong
live work walk breathe
too Black too brown
29

Melting Point
Nafisa Sayed-Motiwala
30

thirst by Naval Khalid
31

ART
IST
BIOG
RAP
HIES
32

A L E E N A H
A N S A R I
“Anywhere but here“ photography series
(pages 1, 9, 11 and 18)
Aleenah Ansari (she/her) is a journalist who works at the intersection
of technology, education, and storytelling. Her identity as a queer,
Pakistani woman empowers her to tell stories about communities of
color that are committed to lift as they climb. She hopes to inspire
the next generation of designers, writers, and makers by making
them feel represented in the stories she writes.
”Anywhere but here“ - Photography Series Description
”During quarantine, I found myself going through my camera roll and reminiscing all of the places I have gone. I miss the world. I miss the
planning a trip and letting a new place surprise me. I miss finding weekend art markets, little bakeries, and festivals, deciding that I am
going to dedicate a whole day to exploring. I miss hosting my friends at my apartment and watching whatever Netflix drama was on that
week. I miss visiting New York with my best friends and pointing out the places I could see myself living . I miss meeting other womxn of
color in tech and feeling like I can tackle anything. I miss planning for the future, for a getaway, and for all the versions of myself that I
could be. However, I know that I am privileged to have my health, home, and community at my side. I thank God every day that I have a
job and the means to save myself financially if I lost it tomorrow. I’m so blessed to have more time to write not only for work but also by
myself. I’m grateful for a beautiful life, whether it’s in my little corner of Seattle or on the other side of the world. Maybe I’ll be going
through my camera roll and reminiscing for a while, but I’ll also remember to be grateful for what I have.”
C A T A L I N A
A R A N G U R E N
“fish” (page 22)
Catalina Aranguren (she/her/hers) was born in Bogotá, Colombia and
raised in Caracas, Venezuela. She studied at the School of the Art
Institute of Chicago and Spéos Photographic Institute in Paris. She is
currently raising three bilingual, bicultural, biracial and bustling boys in
New Jersey with her husband and their giant dog. Her work is all about
what you see and what you think you know.
O S H I T H E
A R T I S T
Oshi the Artist (she/her) is a 24-year-old South Asian artist based out of
Hamilton, Ontario. She works in various mediums from acrylics to
digital painting. Her series of paintings, Watura, showcase the best way
to spend time in a heat wave, next to the water.
“Watura” (pages 25-26)
R O S H A N
C A R D O Z A
Roshan Cardoza (he/him) is a 23 year-old graphic designer specialising
in illustrations and logo designs. Cardoza’s art is inspired by psychedelic
art and art from Hindu mythology. He is originally from Mumbai, India
and have been living in BC since 2015.
“Still Life” (page 4)
”Natural Disguise” (page 5)
V I R I D I A N A
C R E S P O
“Day 143” (page 3)
H E B A
E L H A D D A D
33
"graveyard" (page 24)
Viridiana Crespo (they/them) is 24 years old, a Latinx Non-Binary
Lesbian living in Whittier, California. Day 143 is a written journal entry
that Crespo wrote centering around the topic of summer during
quarantine.
Heba Elhaddad (she/her) is a confessional poetess who writes in a
romantic theme.
“[graveyard] is a poem is for the love that made me a bit more human
than my own mankind, this poem is for the love that i will always hold
in my heart, this poem is for everyone who has loved someone so deeply
that they were willing to see them happy even if it was with someone
else, this poem is for the poet and the lover inside of you, this is
graveyard.”

E V A
O J E D A F .
"Friendship in Times of Corona - heat wave"
(page 24)
Eva Ojeda F. (she/her) is a 24 year-old multidisciplinary emerging artist
currently based in the unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish,
and Tsleil-Waututh peoples, colloquially called “Vancouver”. She holds a
BFA from Emily Carr University of Art+Design. She was born and raised
in Mexico City and her background as a WOC sets her practice as an
artist. Eva's work varies from performance art to sculpture and painting,
exploring the themes of the body, race, identity and feminism.
J E R E M I A H
G I T T E N S
""i" (pages 7-8)
"ii" (page 10)
"iii" (page 12)
S O N A L
J A D H A V
"Emission" (page 23)
I Z Z Y
J O H N S O N
"Melt" (page 15)
Jeremiah Gittens (they/them) is a 24 year-old Afro-Caribbean (Trinidad,
Barbados) & Celtic (Ireland, Wales) writer based in Montreal Quebec.
The poems i, ii, and iii a selected pieces from a larger collection
chronicling the summers of their early twenties on Vancouver Island (in
Lekwungen & W̱ SÁNEC territories).
Sonal Jadhav (she/her) is a 19 year-old artist from Maharashtra, India.
Her piece, Emission, depicts the heat within our lives. Considering the
many situations and emotions we face, Emission captures the different
types of heat (energy, jealousy, anger, betrayal, etc.) we experience. This
drawing shows the eye of heat’s energy. It also depicts the lotus flower,
acknowledging how we keep growing in this world with every type of
energy, positive or negative. Keep growing like a lotus in the mud, with a
beautiful soul.
Izzy Johnson (she/her) is a mixed race, queer woman of color living in
Los Angeles, CA. Johnson started taking photography more seriously last
summer after her mother passed. For the past year, she has been
shooting on walks around the city using the same point & shoot camera
her mother had for all of Johnson’s life.
"LA is a notoriously car-centric place but when experienced on foot, the
perspective shifts. I photograph a lot of discarded objects – trash, toys,
innocuous pieces of daily life. This particular photo was taken in an
affluent neighborhood where it is pretty uncommon to see things left out
on the street. It was about 34ºC in the middle of the day. The sadness in his
little face and the shadow of the palms – I just had to take it.”
N A V A L
K H A L I D
"Thirst" (page 31)
Naval Khalid (she/her) is a 19 year-old South Asian artist living in
Ontario, Canada. Her work, Thirst, is an interpretation of the theme
HEAT WAVES. The tongues represent the atmosphere and the lack of
moisture. The two drops of water represent how the lack of water will
affect the flowers below. The 3D flowers under the tongue represent
shrinkage in heat, in the center; the flower becomes small in size since
there is not enough water in the atmosphere. The plants in each corner
represent nature. The waves around the flowers represent heat. Overall,
her message is to show how heat waves are visible in nature in the way
they affect plants.
34

M A H A
"we literally won't settle for anything less"
(page 6)
"i wish we didn't finish the water"
(page 21)
"white fucking audacity"
(page 29 - CONTEST WINNER
W H I T N E Y
M A N A S S I A N
"Girl with leaves 0.2" (page 13)
Maha (she/her) is a queer South Asian Muslim residing in Katarokwi,
or Kingston, Ontario by its colonial name. Maha likes to include lots of
movement in her poetry. She engages with radical transformative
justice in her emphasis on queer futurities, through writing about love
or the scam of electoral politics.
Whitney Manassian (she/her) is a twenty-year-old, Black Italian artist
with a Fine Art background. She likes to explore themes of beauty,
nostalgia, pain and love with a variety of mediums. Manassian is
currently attending her last year of university as an Illustration and
Animation student. Growing up with people trying to fit her into any
sort of box, she knows that the only label that she can accept is free
human. “I love who I love, I am who I am, and I hope everyone can
find peace in who they are.”
Made with oil pastels on an acrylic background part of a series Girls
with leaves, this illustration is Girl with leaves 0.2; on a hot day she's
shirtless, is she really free?l
K O F I
O D U R O
"Noise Amongst the Heat Waves"
featured on page iii
L Í V I A
P E S S Ô A
""Fôlego" (page 2)
A N I L I Y A H
R I C H A R D S O N
"Wonder Lust" (page 28)
T R A M A I N E
"two a.m" (page 19)
"two p.m" (page 20)
Kofi Oduro’s artistic practice is an observation of the world that they
then put into artworks for others to relate to or disagree with.
Through Videography, Poetry and Creative Coding, Oduro tries to
highlight the realms of the human performance and the human mind
in different scenarios. These situations can be described as social,
internal, or even biological, which we face in our everyday lives.
In Noise Amongst the Heat Waves, we are seeing colors emerge from a
noisy terrain. In HEAT WAVES, one is always trying to cool down.
Within this piece, the noisy waves can be considered the dispersion of
heat and the waves that are blue can be the attempt of trying to cool
down.
Lívia Pessôa is a 23-year-old Brazilian artist, majoring in psychology at
the Federal University of Bahia. Pessôa lives in Salvador, Bahia.
Fôlego means "breath", it is a collage that refers to the heat in Bahia and
is connected with Africa portrayed in the work. Real, social, cultural
warmth: you always need to breathe.
Aniliyah Richardson (She/Her) is twenty-two-year-old, African
American writer. She is currently living in Paterson, New Jersey. Her
piece represents living in a distinct place filled with violence, while
trying to make it out by having the strength and the power when
opportunities present itself.
Tramaine (she/her) is a 23 year old poet who lives in Baltimore and has
spent the last four years processing life through poetry. She was born on
the last day of summer and experiences life acutely though temperature.
In two a.m and two p.m, she reflects on her brief and feverish
relationship with a man who never meant to stay.
35

I V Y
S A R K E R
"Let Us Melt" (page 16)
N A F I S A
S Y E D -
M O T I W A L A
"Melting Point" (page 30)
M A N A S V I
V O R A
"hot stuff" (page 27)
Ivy Sarker (she/her), is a 19-year-old, Indian, bisexual writer. She has
been living in Toronto, Ontario since she was 4-years old. Let Us Melt is
inspired by the rain during a hot humid day while in quarantine
Dr. Nafisa Sayed-Motiwala (she/her) is a an Asian freelance visual artist
based in Toronto with around 7 years of experience in pastels, charcoal,
acrylic, watercolor. Melting Point, quite reflective of our present times.
Due to the pandemic, online work the time seems to have become static
monotony and the count of days and time is indistinguishable leading to
instability at emotional level. Our human efforts have been responsible
for the melting ice from the poles, creating rising temperatures,
epidemics, and misery. The artwork attempts to put all these events in a
single frame and the irony of human life.
Manasvi Vora (she/her) is an 18-year-old l Indian poet from San Diego.
Her poem, “hot stuff”, is an encapsulation of a childhood memory
colored by thick heat and an ever-present smoke that clouds your eyes.
E D I T O R I A L T E A M
I Q R A
A B I D
S H A K I
S U T H A R S A N
D A R N I E
T R A N
Iqra Abid (she/her) is an eighteen-year-old, Pakistani, Muslim writer
based in Hamilton, Ontario. She is currently a student at McMaster
University studying Psychology Neuroscience, and Behaviour. She is
also the founder and Editor in Chief of the Kiwi Collective.
Shaki Sutharsan (she/her) is a nineteen-year-old, Tamil, Canadian writer
based in Toronto, Ontario. She is the Assistant Editor of the Kiwi
Collective and contributes toher blog, Kutti Corner. Currently, she
attends Ryerson University where she is studying Journalism
Darnie Tran (they/them) is a non-binary, First Generation, Cambodian-
Chinese Canadian performing artist. Tran has accepted various roles in
many theatre productions, as an actor, musician, stage manager and
director. They also have experience acting on screen in the web-series
HammerTown. In addition to theatre, Tran plays a variety of
instruments and creates music under the name sunniesounds.
Currently, they are a student at Randolph College for the Performing
Arts and was accepted is an interviewer for The Peahce Project.
SPECIAL THANK YOU TO HANA AND HERA SAUD FOR
ILLUSTRATING AND DESIGNING THE HEAT WAVES COVER
36

KIWI
COLLECTIVE
MAGAZINE
HEAT WAVES
2020
SEPT 25th