editor’s note

If you’ve followed our work throughout the last year, you’ve seen us use words to paint pictures of the passionate artists we encounter every day. Those words would appear pale and paltry if not for the brilliant photographers who work with us here at Culture Capital. I want to talk about one such gifted individual who takes his photos beyond the normal scope of what it means to capture images. Austin Johnson, aka intrntl, breathes life into his work, finding fire in frames and communicating vulnerable volumes through his digital and film photography.

Recently, Austin showcased his narrative through Fully Free Art Collective, an Austin-based group focused on bringing increased voice and visibility to identities underrepresented in mainstream narratives. The show, dubbed Fully Free: Identity Expression, was the brainchild of Hali Hoyt, who used their experience with identity expression to galvanize the artistic community into shedding light on the topic. Austin, as is his calling, contributed with honest, revelatory, artistic expression that highlighted his talent while bringing further depth and meaning to the collective’s exhibition. Below you’ll find Austin and his words. Please take your time to absorb this important work and appreciate this singular human being:

Austin Johnson x Jacob Stern — Austin Johnson x *Jacob Stern*

i am sitting in an empty room. no light, four walls, some way in no way out. i don’t remember how i got here. i used to feel so free in my body i don’t know how i got here, but i can’t get out — i got my ears pierced when i was sixteen years old. i’d wanted to do it for forever but my father didn’t approve. i used to take the colored studs from my hot topic belts and hook them onto my earlobes to make up for this restriction of expression i was provided, and as i think back, this was not an uncommon thing for my life. when i came out to my family, i was told this story by multiple members: “it’s okay that you’re gay, but just make sure you don’t make yourself too visible in public. you have a target on your back. you’re already eccentric, and we just care about your wellbeing.” this loose story followed me around for years, whispering in my ear as i filtered through the h&m clothing rack, tugged at the neck of my shirt as i fell deeper into relationships, only to remind me that “i’m still a man.” yeah, you’re gay, but you’re still a man.

when did sexuality become linked to gender? it was as if the moment i expressed my sexual orientation to individuals, they had to know whether i was the guy or the girl, the catcher or the receiver, the top or the bottom. when does it end?

i felt like neither. i existed. but that was never enough, so i was never enough. and it became that simple. i was stuck, sitting in an empty room; no light, four walls, some way in no way out. except, there was a way out. i just didn’t know.

when i moved to austin and started my first professional job, i was approached yet again with this feeling of being stuck in the dark. or better yet, being under water and watching everything around you move freely, except you can’t swim up, and you can’t fully see. you just know there’s something happening that you’re missing. i quickly jumped into the mindset of being a button up shirt and slacks warrior, assimilating into the gender normative standards of the real world. but it never felt right. i put on those clothes every day and trudged out of my apartment, feeling like i was in another body. i’d come home and take them off and feel relieved, but also dread the moment when i had to be that person again. it wasn’t me. it felt like i was in another scenario where expression was again, limited. there are guidelines and rules to follow. men wear ties and dress shoes. women wear dresses and heels. it separates us. creates order.

i’d hear variations of these thoughts in my head and wonder how they got there.

it makes no sense. i’d never believe this by choice. but, as time passed, and the feeling of being stuck became too much to bear, i realized i needed to make a change.

winter proved to be useful. i wore oversized sweaters and high waisted jeans for most of the season, feeling a bit more at ease not crushed by the noose that was the button up standard. i continued to take strides, finding new ways to introduce expression back into my world, adding color to the places of my body that had been flushed for so long. adorning my nails with pink paint and alternating earrings depending on my mood.

i was tired of feeling grey. but more importantly, i was tired of feeling like i had to be grey because of the category of “man,” a construct that in no way describes the person that i am, nor the person that i want to be. it’s okay to not know, and rather just be. i feel more comfortable asking myself questions, and exploring realities that before felt abnormal, abstract, and out of reach. walking down paths that lead to both answers and more questions. i discovered that life is about taking steps towards understanding yourself on a deeper level, and it’s beautiful. i am still walking down that path, and it’s not always easy, but it doesn’t feel like i’m sitting in the dark any more. now, i am walking in the light. i can breathe. and it’s crazy, because i never knew i couldn’t before.

identity: austin johnson for fully free art collective

CULTURE CAPITAL