In Orakelet Kollektiv, intersectionality is a pillar. We understand feminized labor as always intersected by race, class, sexuality, gender identity, ability, and migration. Our rituals, our materials, our voices, our actions all arise from these intersections.
We work with perishable materials such as soil, food, and plants because they refuse to remain still. They move, ferment, decay, swell, and dry. They shape themselves through time and through the touch of our hands, reminding us that matter is never neutral. Matter acts, responds, collaborates. It carries memory and power, teaching us how life, labor, and ritual are entangled.
As active fragments, these materials bear traces of existence, effort, and time. They change before our eyes. They resist the silent demands of archives and defy monumentality. They remind us that everything alive, everything cared for, is in motion, always in transformation.
We understand the body as something that can be inscribed into matter and space, leaving traces that may disappear but never fully vanish. What remains are marks of presence, of desire, grief, care, and strength. The body is not a fixed identity, but a medium for history, memory, and metamorphosis.
Our practice exists within a lineage that recognizes care, maintenance, and repetition as political acts. What is often undervalued, what is repeated, nurtured, and tended, holds transformative power. Care is not passive; it is sustained resistance.
Our materials carry the memory of cultures and bodies that have never been fully seen. This labor is often carried out by women, queer, trans, and gender-expansive bodies. It sustains communities, spaces, lives, and land, yet has been systematically rendered invisible. Not because it lacks value, but because it has been deliberately overlooked.
We insist that this invisible work must be rendered visible. Not as representation, but as enactment. Traces, rhythms, wear, and touch become language. Representation extends from the living, allowing what would otherwise disappear to emerge and remain felt.
Our textile work carries stories. Sewing, weaving, repairing, and shaping garments is more than craft. It shapes bodies, opens space, and creates resistance. Cloth is never neutral. It holds politics, intimacy, care, and defiance. Textile becomes a site where suppressed histories and embodied knowledge are carried forward.
Writing holds a parallel force. Words arrive as fragments, repetitions, rhythms. Writing carries desire, endurance, dignity, and revolt. It insists that labor, especially feminized labor, is not silent, not passive, and not disposable.
Textile and writing mirror one another. Both shape, hold, and carry. Both mold time through the body. To write, to sew, to weave are forms of labor that must be recognized as political acts and as resistance.
Sound, our voices, is material as well. Voices touch space, create ritual, and carry experience and history. They function as living archives, as rhythm and force. Sound transforms space, binds bodies together, and makes life tangible.
We understand ourselves as relics of our own history. Not remnants, but carriers of ongoing processes. Our bodies, hands, materials, words, and voices form living archives that are unstable, porous, queer, and in constant motion.
Our rituals keep us present. In a world driven by efficiency and individualism, rituals are pushed aside. We refuse this disappearance. Our rituals are not nostalgic; they anchor us, bind us, and affirm that all labor, all devotion, holds value and force.
By working with perishable materials, ritualized actions, textiles, writing, and sound, we reject the logic of monumentality. We create spaces where labor, care, desire, voice, and time are allowed to emerge.
Thus, Orakelet Kollektiv’s practice is both resistance and continuation:
a way to let the relics continue to labor,
to keep ritual alive in matter,
to insist that history is not behind us,
but still in our hands, in our threads, in our voices, in the rhythms we make, and it will not be silenced.