I’ve never really seen myself as an artist. I feel more like an image-engineer or a haphazard philosopher. I work on a conceptual basis in an ever-expanding range of media—from oil paint to stained glass and performance art. Recently I made a stuffed animal of a giant earthworm and meditated in the middle of Times Square for 24 hours. My portfolio makes no sense.

I grew up between San Francisco and Florence, Italy. My background is in digital design, but my heart has always been with analog media. I moved to New York last year for my MFA in figurative painting at New York Academy of Art. We paint nude models from life every day and memorize all the bones and muscles in the body. It’s awesome. I’m learning the “rules” so I can break them better.

I’ve always been interested in how image-making overlaps with creative problem-solving. For the past two years, I’ve been working on a weird little card game that does exactly that. It’s called Exquisite Corpse.

What began as a sketchbook experiment has since evolved into a project that fuses everything I love—spontaneity, visual absurdity, connection, and strategic play.

Where did the idea for Exquisite Corpse come from?

The name comes from a phrase by the Surrealists who first played a version of this game in the 1920s: “The exquisite corpse shall drink the new wine.” Traditionally it’s played by folding a piece of paper, with players taking turns drawing sections of a continuous body (or writing lines of text) without seeing what the others have created.

I grew up in a family of artists and have been playing the drawing game for as long as I can remember. I wanted to bring the collaborative absurdity of the Surrealists into the modern world—in a form that’s tactile, social, strategic, and slightly unhinged.

Why revive the Surrealist game? What does it mean to put your own spin on it?

Exquisite Corpse taps into a spirit of imaginative exploration that, as adults, we too often neglect. I designed this card game to make that playful visual discovery accessible to everyone, not just artists. In playtests, the best part is watching people lose themselves in that process.

How does the game actually work?

The Exquisite Corpse deck includes 54 colored pencil drawings:

52 body parts + 2 wildcard bandaids.

All body parts connect at small or large openings, and bandaids mend loose ends.

With four distinct game modes, you can build corpses collaboratively, competitively, or alone in your room at 2am.

What looks like nonsense is actually a finely tuned network—one that’s just barely solvable.

What was the hardest part of designing the game?

The complexity of the game’s logic! Designing this thing sent me down the rabbit hole of graph theory (wtf is that) and nearly drove me insane. But cracking that code was one of the most rewarding parts of the process.

What was it like to treat this both as an artwork and as a product?

I’ve found that artwork tends to lose idiosyncrasy when commercialized for a broader audience, which can pose a real challenge to its narrative and conceptual depth. Exquisite Corpse gave me a rare opportunity to preserve creative expression while still making a sellable product.

The plan is to commission different artists to illustrate future versions of the deck, each with their own theme and visual language. (Keep an eye out for Exquisite Corpse: The Animal Pack—we’ll reveal the artist soon!)

I’m learning to approach the business process as an art form in its own right. What if enterprise were a medium, like paint? Isn’t it a vehicle for this concept just as much as my original pencil drawings were?

How does Exquisite Corpse fit into your practice as a painter and conceptual artist?

I’ve always been drawn to interactive art—it’s a dance between expression and functionality. That interest is what led me to the world of design, and later to this card game. I love making images, but I want the viewer to have an active say in what they become.

I’ve built jigsaw puzzles, kites, carpets, paper dolls…I think interaction (whether physical or just psychological) has the ability to break down the barriers between subject and object.

To me, art is a microcosm of life. It’s an act of conception and evolution. It’s a testament to the tension between self and other, between spirit and matter. And it’s a chance for both maker and viewer to unite these sets of opposites in the experience of it.

Exquisite Corpse is about connection. It’s more than just a card game—it’s a puzzle, a playground for the imagination, and a collaborative creative experience.

The most exciting part of this project is seeing how it grows and evolves in other people’s hands. We’ve been testing it in living rooms and art studios all around the world—and this is just the beginning.

On October 1st, Exquisite Corpse goes live on Kickstarter. If you want to join the experiment, you can follow the campaign HERE.

or pre-order a deck at exquisitecorpsedeck.com

Consider it an invitation to the absurd.

The post Serious Play: The Art of Dismemberment appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

Light and sweet, please, I say to the counter gal at the Italian bakery down the street from me in Astoria. If you’re a New Yorker, you know what’s up. Milk, 2 sugars, Bunn brewed coffee with that orange handled carafe, that tastes better than any bougie coffee you could think of when coming back from a 6am street shoot in FiDi, and suffice it to say, I know bougie, and coffee.

I’ve had my fair share of cups of coffee over the years. When I was a printing apprentice with Chuck, who was from India, the bodega across the street made his coffee like the kind he had living in India… half a bag of sugar, 3 creams, splash of coffee and a Marlboro Red to go. I’d have the same, sans cigarette.

When I’m on set with luxury brands, it’s Keurig or bust. Recording sessions in midtown, deli coffee and a bagel. Midday client meets, French Press and black. While I adore the life of light roast coffee and it’s complexities, for me coffee is just magic. It’s the same magic I see when my client’s eyes light up for the first time that tickles their soul.

I sit down with my guy Frankie for a few minutes to chat it up. He’s just back from holiday in Corsica, and for me, the coffee is my respite before writing this letter. He pulls out a photo a beautiful woman he’s seeing.

She’s got the eyes.

And then he ask’s me… “Why is it most women I photograph with my phone tell me that that’s not them in the photograph?”

I reply along the standard response lines of, maybe it’s the angle, the light, insecurity (this is a whole article unto itself), the mirror vs. reality, and other odds and ends. But honestly, after 15 years grinding it out here in this city, it’s all in the eyes.

Like so many cups of coffee over the years, I’ve tasted eyes of all backgrounds, economic worlds, faiths, professions, power structures etcetera in the studio. And the truth of it, if you’re really tasting, I mean really listening, the eyes, they all tell different stories and aren’t bothered by that surface level banality. No two sets are alike. Facial expressions, body positions, outfits, hair & makeup may say one thing, but the eyes, they can’t hide. They don’t and they won’t, regardless of how hard you and I try.

Honestly, I wish I didn’t search them out or find them, those moments of expression, it would likely make me a better fashion photographer. But I’m drawn in, addicted. I want what’s behind the expression of happiness, sadness, joy, exasperation, tumult and other adjectives. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take the Gucci shoes, Chanel bag, and Dior outfit to capture you in, however those are just the appetizers to the main course.

But first, Coffee.

KARJAKA, I has our eyes on the multimedia-ed artist Isabella Ronchetti as this month’s cover artist. What’s behind those eyes is an absurd journey through the surrealist art that is Isabella. Explore her studio, story and soon to launch kickstarter of her surrealist card game in this clearly boring Issue of KARJAKA.

The post Letter from the Editor: 15 Years a New Yorker… appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

We live in an era where the world is curated, filtered, and increasingly generated by artificial intelligence. From the perfect Instagram photo to AI-generated influencers with flawless faces and “ideal” proportions, it’s becoming harder to distinguish what’s real — and even harder to love what is.

But here’s the truth: You are real. And that alone is revolutionary.

In a digital culture that pushes perfection, being unapologetically, authentically yourself — body, mind, and soul — is a radical act. Your stretch marks, your quirks, your emotions, your laugh that’s just a little too loud — those aren’t flaws. They’re fingerprints of your humanity. And no AI, no algorithm, can replicate that.

The AI Illusion: Perfection Without Personality

Artificial intelligence can now create everything from artwork to poetry to eerily lifelike photos of people who don’t exist. And while the tech is impressive, it’s also dangerous when it becomes the lens through which we view beauty and worth. The issue isn’t AI itself — it’s the illusion of perfection it projects.

Social media feeds are now filled with AI-enhanced selfies, virtual models, and “glow-ups” that erase pores, wrinkles, and any hint of aging or imperfection. And when we scroll through this digital perfection daily, it starts to chip away at how we see ourselves in the mirror.

But here’s a reminder: perfection is boring. It’s predictable. It lacks soul.

You weren’t made to look like a filter. You weren’t made to be symmetrical or sculpted by an algorithm. You were made to be you — vibrant, evolving, messy, magical.

Reclaiming Your Body: A Home, Not a Hashtag

Your body isn’t a brand. It’s not a trend. It’s not a “before and after” photo waiting to happen.

Your body is a home — the only one you’ll ever truly live in. And it deserves to be loved not because it looks like someone else’s ideal, but because it carries you through life, every single day. That doesn’t mean you always have to feel amazing about how you look. Body love isn’t a constant state — it’s a practice. Some days it’s bold and fierce. Other days it’s quiet and patient. But every day, it’s about choosing kindness over criticism.

We’ve been taught to believe that we have to earn self-love. That we need to change, shrink, tone, or tweak before we’re worthy of love or pride.

But the truth? You don’t need to change to be lovable. You need to unlearn the lie that you ever weren’t.

Authenticity in the Age of Algorithms

In a world where even personality is becoming programmable, authenticity is your superpower.

When AI can mimic human expression, creativity, and even emotion, what makes you you is more valuable than ever. Your lived experiences, your unique perspective, your voice, your flaws — they’re irreplaceable.

AI can simulate connection, but it can’t feel. It can imitate empathy, but it can’t truly understand. It can generate content, but it can’t create meaning like a human soul can.

Your presence — raw, real, unedited — is a breath of fresh air in a digital landscape obsessed with the artificial.
So how do you stay grounded in your realness when everything around you is designed to distract or distort?

6 Ways to Stay Authentically You in an AI-Generated World

1.  Unfollow Perfection: Curate your social feed like you curate your space. Follow creators and voices who inspire you with truth, not just polished aesthetics.

2.  Celebrate Your Body’s Story: Every scar, stretch mark, and freckle tells a story. Start seeing your body not as a project, but as a journal of your life.

3.  Make Time for the Tangible: In a world of screens and simulations, prioritize real-world experiences — walks, art, music, laughter, connection.

4.  Use Tech, Don’t Let It Use You: AI can be a tool, but it should never be your measuring stick. Create with it. Learn from it. But don’t let it define your value.

5.  Speak Your Truth, Even If It’s Messy: Perfection is silent. Authenticity speaks — sometimes awkwardly, sometimes loudly, but always truthfully.

6.  Practice Radical Self-Kindness: In moments when you feel less-than, meet yourself with compassion, not judgment. You’re not broken. You’re becoming.

You Are Not a Copy. You Are an Original.

Think about it: the world already has perfect avatars, filtered faces, curated feeds. What it doesn’t have is another you. Your essence. Your energy. Your unique way of seeing the world.

That’s what makes you beautiful.

When you walk into a room with your shoulders back and your spirit intact — not because you look “perfect,” but because you feel whole — people notice. That’s the kind of confidence that no AI can fake. It’s the kind of love that grows from within.

Final Thoughts: You Are the Revolution

Being authentically yourself — body, mind, and soul — in a world that profits off your insecurity? That’s revolutionary. Loving yourself in a culture that constantly tells you to edit, alter, and apologize? That’s powerful.

So take up space. Be loud. Be soft. Be proud of your curves, your skin, your smile lines, your story. You’re not falling short. You’re coming home to yourself.

In a world that’s trying to make everyone the same, your realness is your rebellion.

And it’s beautiful.

The post Loving Your Real Self in an AI-Generated World appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

I was a composer for five years before I had any formal musical training in harmony, rhythm, formal structure, orchestration, and notation. From 1970-75 I blissfully created works without “knowing” what I was doing, and in one case, created an orchestral piece by writing out the individual instrumental parts before the score, which, trust me, is about as ass backwards as it gets when it comes to the practicalities of music composition. There was something, though, about these early years of being unfettered by rules and strictures that fed my sense of freedom and wonder at not just the sound of music, but also the way in which music notation could be represented on paper. Early on it became clear to me that I could do whatever I wanted with notation as long as the symbols and the way I placed them upon the page possessed an intrinsic clarity and logic that was easily understood by the performers. At about the same time that I was creating my ass backwards orchestral piece, I discovered the work of the composer George Crumb, whose music not only sounded, but looked otherworldly as well. The lovely thing about a Crumb score was that the staves that turned into spirals and circles and crucifixes did not exist as gimmickry, but clearly aided the performers in capturing the theatricality or drama of a given moment in sound in a way that would not likely be achieved by any other notational means. To me, conventional notation already possesses visual beauty , but the distance beyond convention that Crumb and many others, including myself, have taken it, has often raised the musical score page to the level of visual art. For example, in 1988, ten pages from my piece In The Throat of River Mornings were displayed at the 101 Wooster Gallery in Soho in New York City as part of the gallery’s Hear Art Exhibition.

In 1976 I began using a Pentel mechanical pencil with HB lead for all my scores, making the switch from using black ink on vellum prior to that, a process that required a razor blade to fix errors. I even used a Music Writer music typewriter for some scores in those early years. But, in 1987, I began creating my scores completely from scratch, meaning that a score page begins as a blank white canvas and every musical symbol that goes onto the page is done by hand, including the staff lines. To be clear, I am not talking about freehand. Everything is created by using music and lettering templates, rulers, and in some cases, a compass and other drafting tools. Reproduced below are seven pages from my latest work, I Wonder If This Ground Has Anything to Say (A Treaty Illumination). The piece itself is an illumination of the existence of Treaties and Agreements made between the White Europeans/U.S.Government and the Indigenous Nations from 1613 to the present day. 

The title page appears conventional and is, though bear in mind this page began in blank form. Pages 43-46 form the end of a section defining Treaties in canonical form. The notation is made up of graphic representations of crisp and chittering improvised vocal sounds, with speakers intoning above them definitions of the word treaty. On pages 45-46 the band comes together in a loud tutti iteration of this vocal technique that fades into two connected circles where soft elided vocal sounds are made before the band returns to the crisp chittering sounds in an intense three second crescendo that leads into the next section. Pages 239-240 show a subtractive factual statement spoken by the seven band members where, when each band member finishes their words, they begin making low half whistley wind sounds as depicted by the wispy undulating graphic lines. There is a crescendo to the top of page 240 and then a long diminuendo to the end of the page.

While some may argue that the musical sounds depicted on these pages could have been made using more conventional notation, it has been my experience that performers do respond differently and more freely to graphic notation, especially when it is clearly delineated and exists as part of a larger dialogue or story, as is the case in these examples from I Wonder If This Ground Has Anything to Say (A Treaty Illumination). This piece will be premiered by the great NYC band thingNY on October 16, 2025 at Merkin Hall in New York City.

Click Here for Information and Tickets!

Jerome Kitzke’s music is reproduced by permission of Peer International Corporation., publisher and copyright holder.

The post From Blank Page to Music: Producing Scores by Hand, One Image at a Time. appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

A song is a recipe. It’s not a fixed thing to be reproduced like a grainy copy of a copy of an old document. It should live and adjust with whoever is cooking the meal, a new dish every time. 

When I wrote the songs for my second album, Braided Together, I was dealing with endless hypotheticals and “what if’s.” I knew I wanted to make my pure Americana statement, but how did I want to approach that as a contemporary classical music soprano and songwriter? How would I stay true to all the pieces of myself while creating something more recognizable from a genre perspective? 

The way it played out was funny and surprising to me. Songs that I deemed too simple or obvious have been fan favorites. My big, serious, emotional showstoppers have been called overly complex by some and beloved by others. In the end, we can’t predict what listeners will connect with. I love the unpredictability and I want that variety in my music. Mostly, I want to serve something delicious to the folks who are taking the time to listen.

More surprising than the album reception was learning the performability of each song during my album tour. Most of these tunes went from sheet music to studio without seeing a stage, which meant I had never felt the live audience reaction, and WHEW! That’s a different experience than the studio! Watching your audience be visibly excited or noticeably distracted during a performance is something I’m totally used to after multiple decades in the biz, but when it’s your own songs about your own life, it hits differently. 

One song in particular, Please People, had the biggest 180 for me. This was one of those “simple,” toss off songs that I wrote in an hour, editing a bit later, and was certain listeners would find trite and corny. I like the studio version, but this song needs a stage. I fully felt this difference at Reverb Lounge in Omaha, NE. Maybe it was playing banjo, which isn’t on the recording, maybe it was that I went full blast with my vocals for the live rendition, maybe it was Evelyn Thom’s raging fiddle solo. Whatever it was, I was blown away by the energy from the audience performing this song. It brought the house down and made me realize that when we write a song, it’s like making a recipe for the first time. Hesitant and careful, unsure what it will really taste like. But a creative cook knows, after you’ve spent a few years making something, you start put your own spin on it. You learn where you can push the limit and take a risk, and you know which recipes will be crowd pleasers for the holiday potluck. 

I’m deep into the creation of my next album, and as much as I love all of these new songs, I feel like I already have ideas about which ones will bring the house down and which ones are better suited for the chill, coffeehouse vibe. But who knows? I’ve certainly been wrong before. 

REVERB LOUNGE SET LIST

June 19, 2025
Omaha, Nebraska

With Fiddle in the Middle: Jesse Langen, Steve Morrow, Evelyn Thom
Double Bill with Ben Eisenberger

Storm
I dunno Jack
Quick Trips

Irish set from Fiddle in the Middle

Please People 
Mama Rolls On
Sweet Annie
Papio 

The post The Set List: Cooking on the Road appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

There once was an entire think tank within the fitness and physical therapy communities regarding proper posture. More than a few different course would pop up promising to get anyone into the absolute correct posture.

But not only aren’t there many—if any—courses or classes featuring this as the main topic, artificial intelligence within a Google search has even jumped on board to verify the consensus that there is no one perfect posture position (say that 5 times fast).

Let’s explore what got us in this predicament of poor positioning in the first place. There certainly are a myriad of bad postures out there and it doesn’t take a trained eye to often see who is a culprit.

Why do we develop poor posture?

Many of today’s comforts and technological advances have contributed to our bodies residing in positions that are the path of least resistance. And staying in that position. That leads to muscle imbalances and atrophying (weakening) of tonic (stabilizing) muscles needed to keep a skeletal frame tall and long.

This isn’t to say evolution isn’t correct about being lazy: our ancestors were all about conserving energy and actually carrying body fat in case of the next famine (or lack of killed animal that we could forage from).

And that should still be the case somewhat today. However, our ancestors had it rough and lived in comparable physically challenging times. Nearly all of the daily chores didn’t have machines (or other people) to do the work for us. Needless to say, they got their steps in.

Now that it’s been verified there isn’t one perfect posture, that isn’t to say there aren’t a host of more preferred and body-friendly positions to reside in. How do we find them and what practices can lead us to a more robust, pain free and happier chassis to live in?

Movement capacity has really been the leading factor to establishing an ability to get in and out of different positions and thus a better overall posture. Improving joint range of motion will allow more body control and can also create greater body awareness. Certainly abdominal musculature and mid thorax stabilizers will help to support spinal stability thereby reducing the pressure on back muscles.

One of the most underlying components and overlooked aspects of an overall good posture is breathing capacity and breathing mechanics. Proper diaphragmatic breathing is necessary for optimal posture positions.

But good diaphragmatic breathing is multi-faceted. An ability to exhale fully and completely will make the diaphragm rise like a hot air balloon. This will expand the rib cage and inhibit many of the back muscles and allow for more movement in the back muscles and spine as they are not busy holding still to maintain stability.

Nasal breathing will allow the posterior attachments of the diaphragm to expand and further inhibit the back muscles and spine. Nasal breathing will also expand the lateral rib cage and take pressure off intercostal muscles and the serratus anterior (the primary muscle that moves the shoulder and arm forward away from the body). Taking pressure off all these back and side muscles allows them to move more, thereby creating more overall movement in the thorax.

Pauses between exhales and inhales can further stabilize the pelvic floor and lumbar spine. Inhaling will actually relax and lengthen the pelvic floor while a trained and skilled exhale will help to strengthen the base of the pelvis and protect the lower back.

As much as breathing is a huge factor, isometric, end-range-of-motion stretching can greatly enhance postural capabilities. Specifically, the hip joint, cervical spine (neck), thoracic spine (mid back), lumbar spine (low back) and ankle joints are the primary sites for improved posture.

90 second-to-2-minute holds—with a moderate intensity—within these joints communicates with the central nervous system to tell the joint to bypass the normal stretch reflex. The result is a stronger neural drive (better control), blood flow, cellular adaptation (to understand the new demands) and stronger and more connective tissue to handle a higher demand on that joint.

In short, the more you do isometric holds under a moderate to strong intensity, the more load and abuse that joint can sustain in deeper positions. Not only will improved breathing mechanics coupled with targeted isometric stretching improve posture, it will also mitigate injury. And avoiding injuries is what we all want for as long as we can.

Healthy and injury-free bodies with longer and more austere postures: that’s a winning strategy.

The post Posture appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.

I am dying—not denying that dying is something I’ve been failing to do  
for too many years, falling in tears
and sweat. 
I am like a spider needing the net
to catch something  
that would be something for me and for others to take.

What did they do to deserve to be caught?  
Did they leave my life or did they leave not? 
I’m trying to be fulfilled, to be excellent, to be perfect  
and unspeakably, critically unforgettable. 
Is this mix even eatable? 

And flexible—flexible—I did work on my flexibility.  
I increased my ability to bend,  
to bend over, to bend under the band,  
under the pressure of time, people,  
opinions and dogmas,   
and something that I didn’t know what it was.

I fold the pressure with tears,  
and like a tired horse,  
I would submit and fall  
without being able to run more,  
to ride and gallop.  
Overachiever, 800 for the credit score
I am so tired of just carrying the weight
That makes me so sore. 

I cannot wait
to fall and die.  
Shoot me in a head.  
Or shall I try?

dying, taking the poison of others’ hatred.  
I’m sick of serving as a fake head.  
I got hired because I was sick of being who I’m not,  
taking a good poison to kill everything  
that doesn’t belong to me,  
who is not me—  
cause I am no longer
Wander nor wonder 
How to produce antibodies  
Do you think it’s funny? Why don’t you try this? 

fighting internally  
all the shadows that would go away with the dawn normally,  
and all the things that I took upon me  
like a poison that was poisoning me  
from the inside, from the outside,  
making me look like I swallowed the hook  
like a fish who just eats whatever looks like food  
thinking that it’s good for her  
and then—one more—  
take one last watery breath.

This is your death.

Take the poison! Swallow on three.  
I want to break free
from everything that is poisoning me,  
thus I’m swallowing this to the last drop—  
hop, hop—  
and being absolutely honest,  
brutally honest in this 
Forest
of naked trees, dark forest  
when I don’t know when I’m going to meet  
someone who is gonna shoot— me? 
Lost, 
walking on fresh frost  
and trying not to produce a noise  
But you walk on a frost, do really have a choice? .

This is where I live to die at some point,  
And then I resurrect myself  
and look at the world with eyes of altered color  
from being reborn, famous and followed, 
and ask—when will the new poison arrive?
Here is my glass of wine. 
Stand up on the prow
I cheers to my new galley
There will be new foe-women in to poison, I bet.
But not yet, not yet, not yet, not yet, not yet.

The post Poetry: Daria Dying appeared first on Karjaka Magazine.