2025, end of year self-portrait, featuring my one and only do do Monk.
After several years defined by survival, endurance, and transformation, 2025 felt like a year of integration: learning that resilience can be steady, domestic, and even gentle. This year’s portrait draws from ancestry work I’ve been immersed in, particularly my Carpatho-Rusyn roots: communities shaped by seasonal living and the necessity of discerning when to hold on and when to let go.
Working with the Seattle MLK Jr. Coalition for the sixth year has been an honor. This coalition and event are so important to me and the Seattle community. Their work over decades has been instrumental in bringing people together, honoring MLK Jr.s legacy, and amplifying voices for change.
This year, the theme “Rise Up Against Project 2025” reminds us how critical it is to rally together and resist policies that threaten our collective progress.
Today my heart is in Seattle, with love and in solidarity.
In keeping with the tradition of creating something that’s just for me in the liminal space between Christmas and the New Year, it’s me. Not to be dramatic but it has been the most significant year of my life yet. CHEERS. 🤠💋🦂🌷🌟🥨💅
“The life of Man is a long march through the night, surrounded by invisible foes, tortured by weariness and pain, towards a goal that few can hope to reach, and where none may tarry long. One by one, as they march, our comrades vanish from our sight, seized by the silent orders of omnipotent Death. Very brief is the time in which we can help them, in which their happiness or misery is decided. Be it ours to shed sunshine on their path, to lighten their sorrows by the balm of sympathy, to give them the pure joy of a never-tiring affection, to strengthen failing courage, to instill faith in times of despair.”
-Bertrand Russell
Ayşenur Ezgi Eygi lived a life of purpose, dedicated to standing in solidarity with the oppressed, driven by the deep commitment to justice that cost her life. Her tragic killing is not just her story—it is a testament to the countless Palestinians, whose cause she so passionately defended, who have already lost their lives and continue to suffer under Israeli occupation. Ezgi would want you to know this: her death was just one of many, a devastating reminder of the urgency of stopping the ongoing genocide of Palestinians.
She went to Palestine as a peaceful observer, there to bear witness and stand in solidarity with Palestinians who had long suffered under Israeli occupation. It wasn’t enough for her to speak out from the sidelines—she had to be there, to see the injustice with her own eyes, to feel the suffering firsthand. She believed in solidarity in its truest form—standing shoulder to shoulder with those oppressed, even when it put her own life at risk.
Ezgi’s legacy extends far beyond her immediate circle of friends and activists in the U.S. She was part of a global justice movement, and her work in Palestine has left a lasting impact on both her local community and internationally. She gave her life for a cause that she believed in with every fiber of her being—a cause that is, tragically, still ongoing. But even as we mourn her, we must also carry forward the torch she has passed to us. Ezgi was someone who believed in action over words, in standing up even when it meant risking everything. To honor her, we must continue her fight against imperialism, capitalism, and the genocidal policies of the Israeli government.
Her death was senseless and brutal, yet her life was beautiful, and full of purpose. Ayşenur Ezgi Eygi was one of the most courageous, compassionate people I have ever known. And while I will forever miss her—her warmth, her laughter, her love—I know that her spirit lives on in the struggles of those she stood beside, in the movements she helped build, and in the hearts of those of us who were fortunate enough to call her a friend.
Rest in power, Ezgi. We will never forget you.
I write this with a heavy heart to honor Ayşenur Ezgi Eygi who was tragically and violently killed by the Israeli military while peacefully protesting in Palestine. Ezgi was one of the best friends I ever had. She was someone I looked up to—beautiful, brave, silly, creative, and endlessly compassionate.
Ayşenur felt the pain of others intensely, but her empathy was never passive. She had a fire inside her that burned to make this world a better place. As a courageous activist, she went to Palestine to stand in solidarity with the people, bearing witness to both their oppression and their dignified resilience. Her life was taken senselessly, and her blood is on the hands not only of the Israeli soldier who pulled the trigger but also on the U.S. government, whose support fuels the genocide of the Palestinian people.
Her loss is not only a tragedy for those who loved her but also for the world. It is our duty to Ayşenur—and to all those who have lost their lives in the fight for justice—to continue their work, to keep their spirits alive, and to resist oppression wherever it exists.
Rest in power, Ezgi. I will miss you always, comrade.
