Instagram story viewer> @elizabethhacken> Posts
Elizabeth Hackenberg(@elizabethhacken)'s profile avatar HD Profile

Elizabeth Hackenberg

@elizabethhacken

1.2K
followers
734
following
Brooklyn, NY
POSTS STORIES REELS
A new artist collective coming soon… POOL: As a women’s collective, we POOL labor, resources, and space in order to support multidisciplinary artists. Located a stone’s throw from the East River, the POOL reflects a desire for connectivity, possibility, and visibility for artists in Brooklyn and beyond. The POOL plunges us into conversation, exchange, and play through happenings, gatherings, and pop-up exhibitions. The POOL is a site of convergence. It is formed by accumulation. It deepens through contribution. #artistcollective #artistsupportartists #womenartists #brooklynartists #brooklynart by @elizabethhacken
DRESSING ROOM is on view now until jan 2026 as part of Black Brick Project’s underground series: 17 N Oxford St. Brooklyn, NY 11249 photos by @aileen.schretz 🏠❤️‍🩹 by @elizabethhacken
people in public are always saying to me- “your backpack is open”. i take this to mean i wear my heart on my sleeve, or the good ol phrase, “your fly is open”. i think they are concerned a stranger might take it. (my heart, i mean). i understand their concern but even if i have nothing, i still have something within my skin. and maybe i want my heart taken! or maybe it was never mine to begin with. maybe it’s like a game of hot potato. someone gave me their heart, and now it’s singeing my skin. hearts are so delicious-looking from afar until you carry one around in your backpack all day and it sinks to the bottom and gets heavier like brass when you run. and you run and it then it leaks and makes burn holes in the fabric. and then sometimes you get really small and crawl into the backpack to check on your heart and the lighting gets all dim and the muffled tones of people talking and shifting feels oddly familiar. and then you remember this backpack was really just a belly turned inside out all along. i deconstruct this installation like packing clothes after a trip, soaked and reeking of the flesh of ur new identity - a moth in flight 🤳 by @elizabethhacken
I am stoked & giddy to have the opportunity present an immersive installation alongside some wild, untamed and talented performances and artists at ChaShaMa’s Bizarre Bazaar this Saturday June 21st. Come through and unleash 🍬 ticket link in bio 💌 by @elizabethhacken
living in a vintage shop has coveted a relationship to clothes and their personas as place. the textiles are my walls, they carry traces of lives I never knew, leftover identities, and potential for new inhabitants. by @elizabethhacken
some juicy shots from !fridge: art as preservation! by @1i1ymoskowitz 🤳👥🤤 by @elizabethhacken
come check out ChaShaMa’s booth at super fine art fair this weekend🍬 tickets : superfine.world/superfine-nyc25 thurs 6-10 pm fri 6-10 pm sat 11-9 pm sun 11-6 pm by @elizabethhacken
fridge ! wednesday ! come see some tasty art 🍯 by @elizabethhacken
im within the background of a lost embrace🤳, trembling and misunderstanding the difference betweeen surrender •••and superficiality👓’ i lose myself in the wake of a miscomprehended reality.. only to retell our fickle🕸️🕸️🕸️ passes without narrative. only slippery sentences losing shape and stability. trembling in the basket of your brain. wanting to fight 🐇🐾without the seamless recognition of dissonance and the inner workings of our womb places: ~in this sense i amount to nothing besides each other and, of course, our forgotten inhibitions — this is how i return full fledged without dismembering my tasteful• independence }and inter|dependent realities — they often switch in between divisions. why do i feel like im about to be intruded upon? is my inner space deliberate enough for your taste? or are we internally losing traction without inherent memory? 🌪️i lose the features of your face so soon that i cannot bear to dismember the sadness, they sway together amidst the _flick’ of a tongue or the splatter of a warm trance, we are unjustified without internal landscapes to come home to. +we lose our footing in the horrors of discombobulation, i see your ideas stuck in the pupils of your fathers 🍭🍬eyes they lay beneath the sticky curtain drop of those velvet eyelids— they switch between the inconceivable dynamics. we are and they are inherent in their longings. in their sudden craving for glory. they make advocacy within the pinch of a tasteful dance — mixed with fresh berries and their never ending gait🚲 gleaming and behaving without the fickle trickle between two independent commotions: we are internally lost in the muck of each other’s subconscious . 🫨🍯 by @elizabethhacken
SQUIRM! a dreamlet (about carpet pores, written half awake): the place felt like pop candy art digestion. like it was transforming us— the floor was moving like a tongue and there were these giant pregnancy pillows attempting to take us and eat us. she was letting the room take her where it pleased. she was almost having sex with it— like we were in this private culture that wanted us to act out our deeply natural impulses because the room itself was doing that. i was tired of feeling stiff and frozen l. it was all encompassing. it started to consume me and eventually i allowed myself to be eaten by the room, i cut my hair & watched it in the mirror — i woke with an urgent desire to urinate by @elizabethhacken
i wake to a body filled with furniture—kicked, rattled, mice burrowing in the skin. the house wanted to swallow me whole. the bed whispered of surrender, the floorboards longed to merge with my skin. i think of disappearing into the wood, pressing my body into the grain until I am nothing but pattern, repeating. i think of becoming a ghost in my home, drifting between walls, unseen. by @elizabethhacken
WANTING to sprawl out and bite (a spidery landscape of branch silhouettes) i never knew quiet until you unplugged from me like a drain gulping leaving air to seize any warmth into a frozen tapestry of hair follicles and subtle gazes i leaned into the woods so i could discover my anxious knowing your undercurrent of dying instruments here we fall into the esophagus an inherent delivery service forward into cloud by @elizabethhacken

Download All

Save the photos and videos currently loaded on this page.

0Photos
0Videos
Ready to download 0 / 0

Keep this tab open until your download is ready.
back to up