Homecoming — Greatest Hits! is a constellation artwork with various points of entry and more than one way to encounter and navigate it. Inky Lee and Mmakgosi Kgabi suggest ways of interacting with this archive. 


This text was inspired by the artists' interviews, in which the topic of Damiá being a safe place for queer people was frequently mentioned.

When you invited me for gin & tonic in your bed, I replied, "Convince me with a song."

After the first time we met, you sent me a song, Sool Ar. When I listened to it, I was overwhelmed by the feeling of fingertips grazing over my skin. We hadn't yet touched each other, so I couldn't imagine it being your touch, but oh how intense the feeling was! Only later, I learned that that was your "gift". In our region, each person is born with a special "gift", and yours was to send physical touch through songs.

After the first time we held each other, you sent me the song, Neno ios cie ge. I felt your arms around me, calmly and steadily, and this time I was certain it was you.

When, during your work dinner, you suddenly said "en mesivata sie boos servelieet nan", a quote from the poem, Teeci Oso*, that I sent you in a letter, you were perplexed. When, during a work presentation, you said, "O seer pag-pag sie neo nie dego onna na", a quote from the film, Cergi Siorba, that we watched together the night before, you blushed. That evening, you asked me what I'd done and I revealed my gift: To send words to other people's mouths to be spoken.

"Does that mean I … belong to your language?" you wondered.
"With our gifts, we can build a world just for us," I responded.

It was an agreement of affection, a game we played, or a translation of our own. For each moment we wanted to remember together, we used our gifts to capture the feeling of it so that we could recreate the memory whenever we wanted to. 

For example, after watching the film, onai, sinárra, ioidar, we contemplated which scene we would like to remember. 
The big blue fabric rippling in the wind.

Which part from the soundtrack, Aren Nie, would accompany that scene?
"aren nie / a ten i'aren cie / ead bavsan / gen ne mver sibé ierbai"

What kind of touch would transfer the feeling of the moment?
Soft blowing of air from the mouth brushing neck and ears.

Sometimes, I would put the words to your mouth to sing. At other times, you would simply sing them by yourself. In both cases, you would deliver the touch through the verses. We would be transported to our sensorial memory of the scene.

The more we continued developing scenes together, the more our world expanded. As our world became rich with sounds, touch and feelings, we invited others with queer gifts to join our world, to deepen our world with their gifts.

"Would you like to share your gift with us?" we would ask.

Each time a new queer being joined our world with their unique gift, there was collective joy. Gradually, we built a world for a community of queer beings that was wholly ours.

In this archive, we share some of our moments with you.

*Teeci Oso by Kit Gee / Annec Too is included in the printed book Expanded Liner Notes with Additional Letters, Essays, & Studio Visits with the Artists to Accompany the Extended Play Record Homecoming — Greatest Hits!


Dearest Reader,

I wonder how you found me.
I wonder what you found of me.

I wonder how you will explore me.
I wonder what you will see.

I wonder what is left.
I wonder what you will hear.
I wonder how you remember what has been left here.

I wonder where you will begin.
I wonder how you will hold on.
I wonder how you will let go.

I wonder what you will activate of me.
I wonder what you will reawaken.

I wonder why you will look up.
I wonder why you will look up, look inward.
I wonder when you will pull me closer.

I wonder when you will walk away.
I wonder why you will rest only to return, to turn the page, to read from my end to your beginning.
I wonder what will remain with you.

I wonder how you will get closer to where I was when I gave this form.
I wonder what you will understand of what I said, how I said it, why I said it, when I said it.

I wonder why you came to pause, to carry on, to query, to question, to be, with me.
I wonder why you returned.

I cannot give you a clear road map as to how I got here.
All ways are ways.
We are always on the way, as long as we are still here.

I wonder where here is.
I wonder why you are curious.


I lay on the corner of a bed closest to the wall.
Azure blue. I imagined the smell of sea salt.

I imagined the lingering of warm gentle lips and tongue splitting my worlds open like a roasted castania nut.

Exploring me. Awakening me.
Parting roads within me. Returning me home.
As I wondered further from home.

Wondering. Wanderer.

Asking me how I got here.
Where I came from.

A memory.
A fantasy.
A kiss.
A song played on repeat.

At first one song over and over again.
I open my eyes slightly.

I drifted again.

Down the river.
Down the street.

The lights, a river of yellow lights.
City lights.
Candle lights.

I sat. I walked. I sat.
I did not move from the bed.
I had no choice.
Or was this the choice.

Listen. Repeat. Listen.
Stay on the page.
Keep the needle on the track.


Start at the beginning.
Start somewhere.

It will be a start nonetheless.
Your beginning.
My end.
To begin, begin again.
Your end, my beginning.

Track. Trace.
Your own pace.

A page here.
A line there.
A musical note.
A photograph.
A moving image.
A still image.

A longing.
An embrace.
A kiss.
A memory.
A trace.

Take your time.