Monday, July 31, 2006

Long day.

After 11 hours of creating new systems and immersing myself in numbers, plus an hour of intense therapy, one needs to end such day with tequila.

That is all.

Oh yes. I'm glad I'm finally home.
I have a few minutes while grabbing lunch. Here's a little reading for ya.

Ganked from The Slog:
Scientist thinks invisibility possible in future.
Oh my.

I've just reworked an updated "to do" list as well as cruised thru work emails. This is going to be a week. What happened to the years where, regarding work load, summers would be slower and more leisurely?

I'm slammed.



Worked another drawing. I'm fairly spent because it was the most emotional one yet. Not only ugly but really bad. This is going to sound strange, but to be able to paint while crying is a good thing for me. I've never done it before. At the end I needed to stop because the paper was lifting up from heavy work. I wished it were canvas at that point so I could continue to simply paint over it. There is also a frustration building because I don't have the space to get down and dirty right now.

Instead, after I stopped, I realized I can reuse the energy of the sheet. My next step is to tear up other sheets, paste over sections and rework again. Collage-ish. Although I've worked a few in an advanced drawing class many, many years ago, I never thought I'd access that again on my own. I wasn't comfortable with it. My prof enjoyed my piece yet I had no idea why. There was no personal connection with the work.

It seems I will be delving there again. The natural next step. A step that is bringing me into waters I've not swam before...only waded. Long time ago. What does this mean for my work? Where is it going? What the fuck will it look like? I'm intrigued because I always considered myself more of a traditional painter. Although I enjoyed some of the more abstract work, I never visualized myself doing certain aspects of abstraction. Diving into this is a new undertaking. Because it feels like a natural progression, there isn't apprehension, yet much curiousity.

It's intense and exciting and difficult.
The exciting is the work. The intense and difficult are the emotions I'm going through at this time. Rage has been building all week, and by bedtime last night, I felt suffocated by the culmination of every single thing that has deeply angered me my whole life. Yeah. I can feel the pressure cooker.

It's a helluva journey.
I am really glad I have my art to see me through.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

I need one more day in my weekend.
This weekend, anyway.

I can't believe it's Sunday. My body claims it is really Saturday. And it's still recovering from delicious, nasty play. Bruised breasts, painful hole, and from heavy-handed slaps, a jaw that hurt for a few days every time I chewed. Signs of good sex.

Events this past week have really shaken me up. The hatred and fear almost feels too much. It hurts my heart.

I'll finally jump into drawing/painting today. There hasn't been the opportunity...until now. I'm looking forward to it because I need to console myself and the beauty of all the healing to date is that I know there is something deep within myself I can lean on for consolation. Not another person. People are helpful for hugs and touches. Connection with another human being is critical. Consolation must be found within ourselves. I always knew that on some level yet never believed I could access it within myself.

The work is still too pretty. In the last four pieces, I've worked on busting out of myself, to the point where I don't even know what to think of the piece once I've finished. It feels ugly for a bit. Then my perception changes. Maybe it's because it grows on me but after about 4 days or so, I'll like it. Frustrating.

I don't want to like it right now. I want it to continue to make me uncomfortable. Make me cringe.

What is happening is that I'm crushed out on the marks left on the page.
My vocabulary is expanding. Very exciting.
But where is the fright? The scary stuff?
The gross?
Why can't I simply vomit on paper?

If nothing else, this forces me to continue.
A skillful actor can touch all emotions at some point and convey that to the audience.
I am determined to do the same.

Maybe this is one of the timeless challenges that continually drives the artist to create. Maybe if I achieved my goal I'd see no reason to pursue it further. Maybe that is the great goal...attempt to fully bare myself. Stand unfolded, naked on paper. On canvas.

And screw the world.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Why can't we live together?

First, I'm still reeling from the Supreme Court decision and now this. It seems a gunman walked into the Jewish Federation around 4pm this afternoon and began shooting.

The Stranger has been doing endorsement interviews for the upcoming election and there is more coming, but check this out! I haven't read the full thing yet because there is a sleeping body in my bed I want to get back to but wanted to post this now.

From this entry:

"We just got out of our endorsement interview with Chief Justice Gerry Alexander and his opponent John Groen.

Pretty amazing turn of events that we scheduled the interview weeks ago—and it turned out to be the day after the gay marriage decision came down. Meaning: A table of Stranger fags—3 of the six Stranger Election Control Board members are gay—got to have at Chief Justice Alexander while emotions were still raw over yesterday’s, um, “imaginative” ruling."

Here is a followup entry, My Date With Justice (Alexander).

A special thank you to Pierre Tristam for his mention of the after the Decision vows. As he wrote, " response to the ongoing judicial lunge back to medieval chicanery regarding gay marriage."

Thursday, July 27, 2006

My new vow, taken from Thor, who brilliantly created such a document.
Thank you Thor for sharing it with us.

For those of you who think the first four points are too harsh, I know that if they love you, they will understand and respect your decision.


I Solemnly Swear...

Until such time that there is more equality in marriages for gay and lesbian citizens – and all the rights and privileges afforded such state-sanctioned civil unions -- I will no longer do anything to support and encourage such inequalities:

- I will no longer congratulate family members, friends, or coworkers on heterosexual engagements or weddings.

- I will decline to attend or participate in any bachelor parties, bridal showers, rehearsal dinners, weddings, or receptions. I will not send gifts or cards. I will not be a best man, bridesmaid, usher, flower girl, or ringbearer. I will not freely contribute my talents as organist, musician or singer, or photographer or cameraman at a heterosexual couple’s marriage ceremony.

- I will not ask about their honeymoons or stick around to see their honeymoon photos or videos.

- I will not send wedding anniversary cards, send presents, or attend anniversary parties.

- I will come out to my family members, and let them know how I feel about these issues of equality and fairness, and why it should be important to them, too.

- If I do any work that supports this special heterosexist privilege, such as floral arranger, wedding planner, dress designer or suit rentals, hair stylist, makeup artist, limousine rental or chauffeur, organist, caterer, waiter or bartender, musician or performer, photographer or videographer, event or travel planner, I will add an “Inequality Tax” of at least 1% to my charges (unitemized, if necessary) which will be donated to organizations in my state actively and predominantly working to change the laws that discriminate against gay and lesbian citizens.

- If I do any work for heterosexual weddings or anniversaries where I am paid and do not do my own billing, I will pledge 1% (or more) of my earnings to be donated to an organization in my state actively working to change the laws that discriminate against gay and lesbian citizens.

- I will contact my state representatives at least once a year to ask them what they are actively doing to rectify this inequality, and to remind them that I am watching their actions, words, and votes, and that if they are unable to accomplish anything in their term of office, that I will not vote for their re-election, much less make any donations to their campaign.

- When traveling and planning trips and vacations, when I have a choice between different state destinations, I will choose to spend my travel dollars in states that have less discriminatory laws against their gay and lesbian citizens in the areas of civil unions, non-discrimination and equal employment, adoption and custody, and hate crimes.

- Both locally and when traveling, I will try and support gay-owned businesses (bed and breakfasts, restaurants, cafes, bars, and shops) and services (doctors, dentists, accountants, pet groomers, florists, etc.) as much as possible. I will also support with my dollars companies and businesses that treat their gay and lesbian employees fairly in areas of domestic partner benefits and non-discrimination policies.

I will conscientiously do this toward the day when gays and lesbians are no longer treated as second-class citizens, “unworthy” of all the state-regulated rights and privileges accorded heterosexual-only marriages.



I'm spent.
And empowered.

In writing last night's entry, something came to mind. As I stand back and watch the progress being made with my internal stuff, I'm fascinated by the chain of events - the step that leads to the next.

I'm still in awe of the fact that I've begun working on my art again. Even more so, because it feels miraculous that a happy, sunshiney day is no longer my requirement to create. To reconnect with my art at the time I felt most alone was powerful. To go into it when I'm angry, frustrated, despairing, sexually antsy, aching and hurting is…a big wow.

This new development still leaves me breathless.
Each time I stand before my worktable, I feel I've stepped on the holiest of grounds.

In the left sidebar of this blog is a quote that I put up when I created this blog back in March 2003.

"I think most artists create out of despair. The very nature of creation is not a performing glory on the outside, it's a painful, difficult search within."
- Louise Nevelson

Although it was never my experience, I always believed there was truth in Nevelson's words. If I wasn't in a calm place, I couldn't create. I hungered to have paintings born of my pain yet would run from my art during those times.

The more I touched, embraced and began to accept the truth of who I am, it opened the door for me to access my creativity to work through pain.

A week ago a new desire appeared. How do I pull the ugly out and into my work? Last night while writing, I clearly saw that by beginning to do this with my art was the step before I could even think about connection with people in the same manner. If I wasn't comfortable enough to reveal my darkest emotions on paper or canvas, for my eyes only, there would be no way that I could share that with a trusted person. In learning how to be intimate with myself, it leads to intimacy with others.

One step. Then the next.
In committing to the inhale, the exhale must follow.

My art is becoming my teacher. My art is providing another key to healing.

In a recent comment to Nayland, a profound thought flew off my fingers. These new developments with my art have transformed how I see myself. The picture of the art student is no longer. More importantly, I no longer see the imposter.

I've spent my whole life believing I was an imposter.
A fake.

I know who I am. I am an artist.

In the past, there was a vague vision of my potential. If I stepped close enough to the image and reach out my hand, it would disintegrate. A ghostly image. It was better for me to view it from afar. Keep it at a distance.

Slowly, inch by inch, the vision is taking solid form. Not only can I see it, but my fingers are beginning to caress it and surprisingly, it no longer evaporates with my touch. There is such power in this manifestation. I can feel the electricity. I'm head over heels in love with what is transforming in front of my eyes.

I know.
I know because I know because I know...I can create fierce art. I will create dynamic work such as the world has never seen. I know that most won't understand. And I don't care. I can no longer continue to dilute my creativity so it speaks to the masses. My life thus far has been lived as such; reliving the aching, painful need to fit with the majority because I was the little kid in the corner crying for attention. Standing in this power, in spite of fear, will unlock the key to my rage and continued healing.

The energy from working on transformation, digging in the dirt and consciously revealing my truest self in strength, in weakness, in my life, my sex and in my art, can't help but connect with others and together create the greater healing force that we all need, individually and globally.

This is my anthem.
My love story.
Crazy day.

It began with the optimism and hope for a good court decision. That didn't happen. We weren't the only ones surprised. It seems the decision was not expected by the anti-gay folks either. They expected to lose. It was a big shock all around.

Sitting at my desk, I cried. For a good half hour, I felt my own wetness and heard the distinct tear-invoked sniffles from other cubicles. We were all sad.

Our ED, being the good jewish mom she is, and knowing that food may provide a little comfort, went out and picked up a bunch of Thai, so we could all share lunch together in the conference room.

Although our organization was not a pivotal force in working on the case, we provided assistance as needed, be it financial, emotional or our labor. Big on the emotional.

I cried for the plaintiffs and especially those who had children who couldn't understand why they weren't allowed to be a legal family. There was even an instance today where one of those kids overheard someone say that he wasn't part of a real family! I cried because once again, our society dictates we all fit in a very small box otherwise we have no legal safeguards. I cried because ultimately, although not explicit, this decision was based on biases stemming from old puritanical religious conservative views.

Based on breeding????
On children????

Give me a fucking break.

When I first became angry, and still now, I've noticed my full hatred is aimed directly at religion. For right or wrong, this is where I stand. I know that at some point I will move past. But not yet. It seems that in my life, religion has always reared its ugly side in an attempt to destroy my individuality and freedom to be. Again today, there was no logic in the decision. It was fear-based mumbo-jumbo. Sigh...

Today's WA Supreme Court decision ripped into an old wound.

I've known for 30 years I had a problem with religion. I've known there was a split where intellectually I can see both sides, the good and the bad, and I was working hard to retain that same balance emotionally. Today it slashed open my festering sore in a way I've never felt before.

Correction. I feel it in a manner I didn't allow myself to feel it as a child and especially a teenager. There is so much anger inside that I can barely think clearly. More importantly, it's an anger I am so fearful of that I can't actively share it with anyone. THAT is too intimate.

I felt it, on the way to my therapy appointment. Once in the office, it dissipated into sadness. I noticed I couldn't tap into the anger even though I was aware it was just below the surface.

I've said it before but I still believe it is not a coincidence that my shrink is religious regarding his buddhism. He also knows that he is being used for me to not allow my history to affect my future.

Today, I am struggling to keep my trust in him. All I can see is "religion man" which I only know as damaging.

To heal from trauma we need to relive the stifled feelings. We need to trust in a safe place to allow those feelings to explode and then move through them. And, I don't know about others, but for me, especially with something so extreme and my fears surrounding deep intimacy, I need to let myself feel those black feelings with another, knowing it's okay.

This court decision has pushed me to another level in my journey of healing. The rage is sitting on my chest in a manner where I feel consumed by hate. It is time to deal with it. I am going to have to risk another level of trust and at some point, openly share this with my shrink. I did speak with him about this today.

I've allowed the rage to come out a few times during play. It only happens with people I'm very close to. But for me to grow up some more, I will need to do it without the safety of being provoked in a dungeon. I will have to willingly step into it and experience my ugly with another. Only then can I begin to turn the chapter on this rage that has been forbidden to me as a young being.

No wonder I'm exhausted.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

A quickie.

I almost forgot to bring you our Wednesday guys due to this morning's uproar.
Here is this week's Freewill Astrology and Morford's latest column, Ain't No Cure For Gizmo Lust.

Now...back to work. Then tequila is called for before I return home where I'll still be cranky enough to draw something ugly.

There is sex to look forward to in the next few days. Thank goodness for fuck buddies who travel.
Rambling and some idealistic dreaming~

Mind you, I'm still enraged and therefore not feeling very charitable. I'm falling into the us versus them mentality which doesn't thrill me but so be it for now.

I personally don't give a flying fuck whether or not a religious institution wants to sanction someone's marriage. Private institutions can discriminate at large. And if they do, it's a clear sign of their tainted values.

What I am invested in is the legal contract easily and cheaply available to heterosexuals who want to share a life together that as queers, we cannot access without vasts amount of money and even then, it doesn't provide all the same benefits.

Money talks.

Although it's not ideal, any gay couple who wants the same legal protections for their family should withhold from their taxes the legal cost of accessing those protections.

Or…what if all queers only paid ½ or ¾ of their taxes, seeing we aren't viewed as a whole person?

What if all queers in the wedding service industry stopped accepting business from heterosexuals? The majority of those we serve don't want to see us access the same benefits. Instead, the rest of the queer community could throw extra parties to help with the loss of business these owners would face. Support our own.

Allies are important. Critical. What if all supportive straight folks refused to get married until we could?

What if our gov't actually separated the legality of the marriage contract from the common religious belief? So even if churches performed ceremonies, it would still be a clearly divided two step process for everyone.

What if we finally started believing that labels have no place in sexuality because ultimately it is about attraction and love? In the long run, it really doesn't matter. Labels, in the wrong context, divide.

What if we really truly knew in our hearts that we are all the same and at the same time unique?
In that we could each stand in our individuality while having our human needs met.
We are not equal, nor are we full citizens...

Same Sex Marriage Ban Upheld.

Here is the PDF of the court's ruling.
I LOVE my coworker family.

One of my cherished coworkers is in the middle of his 2 month sabbatical.
He just walked in the door because he wanted to be with all of us when the decision comes down.
I cried when I saw him.

The family is together.

The office is abuzz. Our media/communications guy is all hooked in. The lists are pulled for sending out the news...
Decision Day!

The WA State Supreme Court's decision on same sex marriage will come down about 8 am PST this morning.

You can read the opinion here on the WA Courts website.

Regardless of the decision, gatherings have been planned in various cities throughout the state. Find your local event here.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Back to work!

Our heat wave broke. Walking in my apartment this afternoon was more than tolerable. It was downright pleasant and even cool.

This means I'm headed for a walk...grab a small protein smoothie on the way back home and then down to work!!! It's time to draw!!!!

Talk to you later!
Just in~

Washington Supreme Court to announce same-sex marriage decision
Long-awaiting ruling coming tomorrow


The state Supreme Court is set to announce tomorrow whether Washington will become the second state to let same-sex couples marry -- a controversial issue that's left people on both sides waiting more than a year for an answer.

In a case that some have called the court's most significant in years, justices could decide Washington's law that defines marriage as a union between one man and one woman is unconstitutional, opening the door for same-sex couples to tie the knot.

A notice of the pending decision was posted today on the court's Web site.

Justices could also uphold the law, preventing same-sex couples from marrying, or strike it down while leaving it up to state lawmakers to decide what to do.

Either way, attorneys have been anxiously speculating on what the delay might mean. Some have wondered if justices were waiting until after the election, when three justices are running to keep their seats on the high bench, though that apparently isn't the case.

Some think the case prompted more than a couple justices to put their opinions to paper and circulate them through the justices' chambers, a process that takes back-and-forth debate, revisions and time.

It could also lead to a number of concurring and dissenting opinions.

"There could well be three or four or five," attorney Phil Talmadge, a former Supreme Court justice, guessed recently.

Hugh Spitzer, who teaches constitutional law at the University of Washington and filed a written argument supporting the same-sex couples, said he thinks justices had probably been passing around several opinions for quite a while.

The state's highest court heard the case on March 8, 2005. Attorneys gave technical, constitutional arguments inside the Temple of Justice as thousands of people rallied under clear skies outside.

Many covered the lawn of the capitol with signs that read, Marriage: one man, one woman. Others rallied for diversity and gay rights.

In court and in writing, attorneys for the state and King County -- as well as a group of state lawmakers and religious leaders opposing same-sex marriage -- argued that the question of who should be allowed to marry should be left to state lawmakers.

They said lawmakers had a rational reason for limiting marriage to people of the opposite sex: Only those couples are biologically capable of having children, and keeping them together is generally best for those children.

But attorneys for the same-sex couples -- whose case was supported by the American Civil Liberties Union, Northwest Women's Law Center and Lambda Legal -- say the law discriminates against loving couples.

They argued that keeping same-sex couples from marrying makes it more difficult for them to raise their children, though at the same time it accomplishes nothing for the kids who are being raised by a mother and a father.

The case was an appeal from two lawsuits, one in King County and one in Thurston County, filed by 19 same-sex couples raising the momentous social question of who can marry.

Justices must decide the fate of state's 1998 Defense of Marriage Act. The law, passed by an overwhelming majority of lawmakers over Gov. Gary Locke's veto, defines marriage as a union between a man and a woman.

Superior Court judges in both counties struck down the law banning same-sex marriage as unconstitutional in 2004.

King County Judge William Downing ruled that there's no logical way that banning same-sex marriage encourages procreation -- a similar position taken by courts in Massachusetts, the only state that now allows same-sex couples to marry.

Downing said the couples had a fundamental right to wed, and Thurston County Judge Richard Hicks reached the same conclusion.

More than 40 states have a law defining marriage as a union between one man and one woman, and roughly 20 have written that definition into their constitution.

But challenges are pending in a number of states.

Earlier this month, New York's highest court ruled that its law preventing gay couples from marrying did not violate the state constitution - a blow to same-sex couples, who had high hopes that the case would go their way.


The Court's opinion including any concurrences and dissents will be available online via the Washington Courts web site at in an Adobe Acrobat "PDF" format.
ganked from Reuters:

Cross-dressing lawyer skirts dress code.

My favorite line from the article is -
"The more this goes on and the deeper the cover-up gets, the frocks will get prettier," he said.

Monday, July 24, 2006

It seems I am much more excited about our new sculpture park than I thought I was. Any SAM sculpture news now thrills my toes. They wiggle with glee.

I knew they were beginning to move the first piece this past weekend. If it hadn't been so unbearably hot, I would have spent the day watching. The piece they moved was Richard Serra's Wake. Here is a Seattle Times article on it, with a regular gallery of the sculpture installation and an audio slideshow.

And in The Slog, (the Stranger's blog), this entry by Jen Graves from an interview she did with Serra.

From her piece, a quote by Serra:

“They (most other American sculpture parks) look like parking lots for sculpture. To have a park that is accessing the language of sculpture is not only rare, it’s fucking magnificent.”
Food for hot days~

Today is supposed to be cooler. It will be a while before my apartment cools down because there was never a cool enough night to drop the inside temp. So it's been building and building.

I'm fortunate because although I'm on the top floor, the location of my apartment makes it one of the cooler ones. My windows face north and east and it gives my apartment nice cross vents. Normally. But the buildup of heat was too much.
I can't begin to imagine what the others in my building went through.

I made some Tazo Green Ginger ice tea on Saturday night and enjoyed that immensely yesterday. It is one of my favorites - green tea, ginger and pear. Then, because I hanker for this when it's hot - I made Jello. I found a new flavor - cranberry! Sugarfree no less.

While making it I swapped 2 cups of Green Ginger ice tea for the cold water.
It's tasty...more complex flavors, combining the tartness of the berries along with the other flavors. I brought in a bowl of it to share with my coworkers today. It was great seeing eyes light up over the mention of red jello.

Yesterday a friend called me to rescue him into some a/c. So we went to see Pirates. Fun with a few good silly moments. But I did feel it lacked the snap and spark of the first one. Maybe because I clearly remember how much the first one surprised me. When I first saw the movie, I was opening a brown paper wrapped box and had no idea what was inside. It was thoroughly delightful. I love those kind of surprises.

No painting yesterday.
Every time I stood up I was really dizzy. The most I could do in my home was make jello and a spinach salad.
Saturday, I couldn't do any drawing/painting either. But by that evening, I was hungry for art so I pulled out my sketchbook and worked a few quick sketches on the subject I've been working over and over.

I am going to GET it at some point.
In the meantime, I love the exploration.

These pieces feel like I'm reading a really good book. I'm diving into each page, wonder what's on the next and wonder if, like a good book, will feel some sadness when there are only a few pages left in the story.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Bill posted an article that is definitely worth reading. He was very gracious with his request whereas I couldn't contain myself and opted instead for a spouting of thoughts.


I've been watching and taking this seriously for many years. Sometimes I can't handle the pain in my heart because the problem feels SO big. I mean, we've been using religion since....forever to justify our actions, our hatred, our violence. No one is supposed to argue with god, right?

My god is more right than your god.

The convenient excuse. So ingrained that it clouds reason and common sense. I see it every time I speak with my parents, even in regards to simple life stuff. They are highly intelligent people and yet have allowed their intelligence to atrophy because if god, thru their religion says so...then so must it be. The curiousity and questioning that we are all born with disappears when not exercised. And it's not only the extreme xtian fundies. I am speaking of extremists is all religions.

As I see and read and feel the momentum the religious right is moving with, I become more fearful. Sometimes the impact interrupts my sleep.

god is the justification for vengeance.
The idea of that type of god is really the most insidious evil.

We need...we must embrace compassion and kindness.

Again, a while back, I saw a small yet very common example of the arrogance and righteousness that is detrimental to humanity. Someone was hurting and shared his thoughts. In response, another had to make the point that he disagreed with one line the orginal poster wrote because it went against the respondent's religion. I was appalled that a point needed to be made instead of allowing the poster their beliefs...especially in a time of pain.

Reading the exchange broke my heart.
It gave the appearance that it had very little to do with compassion and more to do with preaching the idea that "my god is right and you are wrong."

This is the insidiousness of religion. This is the very thinking that, on a grander scale, spurs the wars we have seen for thousands of years. Everything begins from the smallest of seeds.

As an aside...I have friends who are prayerful people. I love them. They are secure enough in their beliefs to not have the urgency to defend themselves everytime there is an opposing view. I even questioned my parents about that very thing in May. The ones who practice their religion yet don't feel the need to impose their beliefs are the purer of heart. These are the ones I admire. These are the ones I allow into my family.

Religion creates an interesting dynamic. There is a need to become the agressor because of a deep feeling of victimization. As long as we allow ourselves to feel victimized we will continue to react instead of pro-act. In doing so, everyone gets hurts.

Last week I read this: House OKs bill guarding Pledge from courts. It made me sick.

"We should not and cannot rewrite history to ignore our spiritual heritage," said Rep. Zach Wamp, R-Tenn. "It surrounds us. It cries out for our country to honor God."

But conservations, such as Wamp ARE rewriting history. The hypocrisy is unbelievable. The blindspots are astounding.

"Supporters argued that the "under God" phrase, added to the pledge in 1954, was intrinsic to the nation's heritage and traditions and must be shielded from unelected judges. "This is an issue that clearly resonates to what we are about as a country," said House Republican Whip Roy Blunt, R-Mo."

What message is this sending to its citizens who are agnostics, buddhists, agnostics, pagans, wiccans...???? Where are our protections? Where do we fit in this country?
Oh that's right. Those who believe there is no god are as evil as gays. So being a queer unreligious person makes me a criminal. Two strikes. Three strikes when I include my beliefs in holistic sex.

The problem is massive. At times, feels insurmountable. And it is nothing new in the scope of mankind. What is new is its increasing rise in power in our own gov't.

Terrifying. Utterly terrifying.

We are no longer allowed to be individuals. Censorship is prevalent. Dissent is not allowed. At this rate, if it continues on the same path, I can see a day where the freethinkers could be killed for not towing the line.

The time is approaching where those of us who value our independence, divergent thinking and personal freedom will be asked to make great sacrifices. We must consider this very real possibility.

It is coming.

Back in September 2004, Mark Morford wrote that maybe we need to live through this because we haven't suffered enough.

"We are, ultimately, a species of stasis and lethargy. We are rarely sympathetically proactive, always violently reactive -- and only when the threat is immediate and overwhelming. We have a fetish for shortsightedness and instant gratification and damn the costs and the impending toll on our stunned mal-educated children. We move, in short, only when we have to."

So how do we move?
The first step is to see. Open our eyes and hearts and really see. In doing so, the pain of injustice will be felt and it is great. But we can no longer shield ourselves from what is transpiring. Don't close the door.

In standing in such vulnerability, then listen to the quietness of your heart. It knows what to do.

The problem is big and at times feels too big. The danger looms large. I too become discouraged and spend time hiding myself. Then I remember that it's with one breath. For my sanity I need to break it down to the smallest of steps. Change transpires with the inhale and exhale. In that, I find my next step.

Saturday, July 22, 2006


How about a little music for a hot summer morning?


A little whining -
It hit 97 yesterday.
at 11pm last night it was 81 degrees. I don't remember a night that hot in Seattle.
at 7 am this morning it was 75.

Right now, with the fan in the window it is fairly comfortable. If I can sufficiently wake up (after only sleeping a restless 4 hours due to heat) I want to work more drawings.

I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate the heat, heat, heat, heat, heat. My body loathes it. My head gets dizzy. I get seriously cranky.
I'm a temperate climate kind of person. Give me our 40 - 80 and I'm thoroughly happy, although 80 IS pushing it.

Today's good point - cloudy skies.
Overall - no humidity. Another good thing.

Yes, I admit it. I am a big baby when it comes to heat.


Last night, Auxugen and I went to see The Devil Wears Prada. Very fun.
My favorite line: "I'm one stomach flu away from my goal weight."

Anne Hathaway is gorgeous. I am a sucker for full lips. On men and women. As long as they aren't collagen-infused.


Afterward we ended up near my house for dinner. We went to a little bistro on 15th and sat at a table on the sidewalk where I enjoyed a couple glasses of Montelpulciano and ended the meal sharing a couple scoops of gelato. One, a cappucino flavor with a small ball of dark chocolate in the middle. The other, was chocolate surrounding a rum core. Very nice.

The air was warm but more comfortable. It was 9pm and people were slowly coming out of their apartments and heading for dinner. I looked down Harrison headed west and caught the remnants of what was a glorious sunset. Perfect summer night.


When I woke at 5 this morning, I opened my eyes and saw red. Momentarily confused, I thought the sky was on fire but I didn't smell smoke. Then I realized it was the sunrise.

It was the color of watermelon.


Call me not up on the times, but I recently discovered that Project Runway is on dvd. I don't have cable and I've been quite curious about the show. I finally put it on reserve and it's supposed to be in today.


I've left the ugly painting and the photo I'm working from angled up against the wall so it can be studied. I keep forgetting that when I give myself the time to sit back and really see the subject, new ideas flood in. I have to kill the idea that if I'm not moving my body then I'm not working.


Friday, July 21, 2006


...when the medium isn't cooperating the way one likes it to, it leads to much frustration.

With enough frustration, the ugly begins to show its face.
This piece is truly fugly. I am pleased.
Now to keep it up.

But not tonight. I'm off for an evening of air conditioning...with movies and dinner.
Breaking in to say...

....when it's a sweltering 90 degrees in the apartment (in Seattle no less and good thing there's no humidity), your washes dry much too fast to even go in and make a further fun mess with charcoal or pencil. I barely pick up my brush and the paper is dry.

It's a whole new way of working. I don't like not being able to mush marks around.

That is all.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

I am home today.

After being called up for jury selection, I went down to the courthouse this morning, the appointed date. For some reason, I had a nasty headache, sneezing that wouldn't stop and woke me at 4am, and chills. When I checked in at the courthouse, I was informed that I was excluded from jury duty back at the end of June. Didn't even know about it, until this morning.

So I slowly walked 8 blocks to catch another bus, taking in the coolness of the morning and the strong salt smell from the Sound, all while sweating profusely. After trudging up the stairs to my apartment I contacted work, letting them know I was taking a sick day to blow this whatever out of my system. I've taken some cold stuff and it seems to be helping. Therapy in a couple hours, and then later a 7pm meeting that is long overdue. Can't cancel that one. Other than that...I'm crashing.

I am drawing in my head.
Ugly art.

I've been looking at my work recently. What I've done over the last 3 weeks. In periodically laying a bunch out, I've been studying them.

On one hand, they are the best things I've done to date. There is a richness to them and energy, each a little different. I am enjoying the exploration. An attempt to dig something out of me.

Now, the other side of the coin. It's about that digging. Even though I look for the down and dirty, the gritty, the raw, I have a tendency to prettify it. These drawings are tame. I'm not pleased with that aspect. I want to let myself go enough to make an ugly work of art. I'm not speaking of doing a bad drawing but a really ugly drawing. There is a difference. I'm not too fearful of doing a bad drawing. Bad work happens most of the time. It's a given.

Can I rip out the ugly in myself and place it on paper, on canvas? Dare I show that to myself, let alone others?

What would happen if the shadow Beast I'm learning to fuck would shoot all over the page? The mean, the nasty, the black. Do I have the courage?

It's a question I ask because I do try. While working I'll have whole conversations with myself. Arguments, really. Trying to push the darkness out of me in a natural manner. Yet I censor myself. This is not acceptable.

There is a ton of pretty art out there. I don't want to be relegated into the masses and only do sweet, ready to hang stuff. I can wholebody appreciate beautiful work. It will evoke emotion from me. At times, powerful and profound. I need this as well. But I want more.

My ego is large. Why can't I put that on paper and have it scream out at people? I want my work to rape the viewer and leave them shaken, inside and out. I want to see erections and dripping pussies from contact with the work, regardless of subject.

Maybe I shouldn't care so much. Maybe it's too much to ask. Maybe it's missing the point of living in the moment and letting go of attachments. But that's where I feel the artist differs from the buddhist. I refuse to lose my edge. I don't want to be calm all the time. Maybe it's about balance. But I can't think about that right now. It all feels too big and I just want to be able to concentrate on this. One step at a time.

Yet right now, my personal challenge is to provoke the ugliness within to rampage the paper. I am going to continue with the same subject and I AM going to break through. Otherwise, how can my work retain any sense of integrity if I can't reveal all of me?

I will do it.
I have to do it.

If I am too afraid to bring you the ugly in my soul, then I am not only a coward, I am a liar.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Although I don't like to attend meetings, I do enjoy meetings.
Other people's, that is.

Because we feed people at meetings. There are always leftovers for us, but this time, a certain breakfast meeting scored big.

Mighty 0 Donuts!!!

These seriously rock. They do not taste like crunchy granola cardboard food. Actually, they are as good as Top Pot donuts, or better, because they don't carry the extra grease.

And yes, although I'm watching what I eat, I refuse to deprive myself fully, so I opted for three quarters of a donut.
A wonderful story of hope~

Unlikely allies join to fight hate
Full story:

By Anna Gorman
Los Angeles Times

LOS ANGELES -- Theirs is an unlikely friendship.

Timothy Zaal is a former neo-Nazi skinhead who served time behind bars after being convicted of a hate crime in an assault on an Iranian couple.

Matthew Boger is a gay man Zaal once beat unconscious on a street corner in Hollywood.

More than two decades later, Zaal, 42, and Boger, 39, were brought together by their work at the Museum of Tolerance to fight hatred.

After their initial shock, the two men have become friends, even turning to each other for advice and consolation. On Sunday, they sat next to each other on a museum stage and shared their story of reconciliation.

Zaal turned to Boger during the program and apologized for what he had done when they were teenagers. Boger smiled awkwardly and responded, "But you are a good guy -- now."

That night in 1981, Boger was hanging out with a few friends at a hamburger stand when a group of skinheads ran toward them shouting obscenities. He remembers trying to flee to an alley, where Boger said he was trampled, punched and kicked.

"I came to, and all I saw was blood," Boger said.

After the attack, Boger decided not to call the police or go to a hospital because he was homeless and a teenage runaway.

"I healed eventually, over time, physically," Boger said of the assault. "But emotionally and in every other way, it took much longer."

Boger eventually went to trade school and became a hair colorist but said he still struggled with his own prejudices against anyone who was not gay. To deal with those feelings, Boger said, he began volunteering as a docent at the museum two years ago. He was later hired as the floor manager, responsible for the day-to-day operations of the museum.

For his part, Zaal grew up in a "wholesome" suburban neighborhood in the San Gabriel Valley and said he learned racism early in life from his parents. Then his brother was shot and wounded by a black person, and Zaal became a leader in the neo-Nazi movement.

"I breathed, I ate, slept, drank white power," he said.

Zaal remembers beating up Boger and his friends, describing it as "very, very brutal." He felt a rush that night, as he often did when he and his friends got into fights.

"Violent confrontations made me feel good about myself," he said.

In 1990, he was sentenced to time in Los Angeles County jail for his involvement in the attack on the Iranian couple, whom he mistakenly believed to be Jewish.

The former skinhead said his transformation began after he had a son. One day, Zaal said, he was at a grocery when his son called a black man "the n-word" and several customers looked at him with disgust.

Zaal said that was one of the moments that led him to realize that he was "poisoning" his child, not teaching him. Over time, he began separating himself from his neo-Nazi friends and beliefs.

After his relationship with his son's mother ended, Zaal married a Jewish woman.

"I'm not proud of a lot of the things I have done," Zaal said. "I lived a very nasty, vile, mean lifestyle for many, many years."

About four years ago, Zaal began speaking about his past at the museum, often to students.

Even though Zaal and Boger were both at the museum regularly, their paths did not cross until May 2005. Boger was preparing to meet with a group of students whom teachers believed -- mistakenly as it turns out -- wanted to start a white-power group. Unsure how to deal with the students, Boger approached a fellow docent, who suggested he seek advice from a colleague who had experience with such groups: Zaal.

Still having no idea that their pasts were connected, the men met for coffee and began discussing what brought them to the museum. Their conversation soon turned to the hamburger stand where both spent time as teenagers. Within minutes, they recognized one another.

"Looking in his eyes was how I recognized him," Boger said. "The eyes were what I remembered from that night."

The two men didn't speak for a few weeks. Zaal said he thought Boger wouldn't want anything to do with him.

But then, Boger said, he realized the only way to move forward was to begin forgiving Zaal.

They had lunch and started to get to know one another. Then, Boger joked, he decided to put Zaal to the test by inviting him to a barbecue at his home with 60 other gay men.

Zaal went and had a good time.

"That's when it really began to become a solid, rewarding friendship," Boger said.

The men first told their story at the museum in January and have spoken four more times since.

Both said they still feel uncomfortable facing their past, but they know how important it is to do so.

"We did not get here overnight," Zaal said. "It was many, many years of pain, and anguish, and growth."

I'm running a tad late so this is short and sweet for now with Rob Brezsny's Freewill Astrology and Mark Morford column, Bush Gropes, Planet Cringes.
Today's list.

~early morning procrastination

~wrote an entry after promising myself I wouldn't

~2 back to back meetings that ran a total of 3 1/2 hours (and you all know how much I love that)

~jumped into this week's gift processing

~walked home the very longgggg roundabout way so I could make a bank deposit for work and grab a smoothie for dinner

~2 loads of laundry

~threw out trash

~spray fixed my drawings

~sized down tissue paper to place between them and pop in in my portfolio (straightening up)

~picked up clutter

~did a sinkful of dishes

~cleaned carpet

~worked out

~now chilling and noting that life is good.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Okay, an hour before my first meeting and I really can't concentrate.
What's going on?

I feel…

…I want to be in love. There. I've said it.
I hate that fact. I really don't want to. I don't want to be so ruled by my emotions that reason shoots right out the window. I don't want to be connected to anyone if it means I lose sight of who I am. I don't want to be stupid in love.

And yet…I want those butterflies. I want the hunger that comes with missing someone. I want to feel a solid body pressed up behind me knowing it is more than an instant, short term fuck. And I want that person to be accepting of my freedom and piggishness, solid in their own individuality and esteem.

I want a place where both of us can uniquely stand in our strength, not needing another to define us. And I detest that it is the couple thing. It's so damned traditional it makes me puke.

I hate that I'm conflicted and I hate that I want this.

Is it fact that opening to myself means opening to the potential of such love? Heh. I first wrote "suck love". Now that's one helluva Freudian slip.

Almost more than I want this love, I want a studio space. I want a room where I can get messy and splatter paint. I want walls big enough to put up all the work in progress. I need space that allows me to really step away from my easel so I can see what's going on. I need the physical environment that grants me creative freedom. I need the privacy to work.

This space would also accommodate eyebolts and morph into my play space. It would be a consecrated sex space for art, s/m, and fabulous meals that we would haul in.

I can taste this desire. So much so that it hurts.


I wonder if my need for a soulmate or love and the hunger for a studio space are really one in the same.
Almost 4 years ago, I asked my shrink:

"What causes the butterflies in your belly when you're attracted to someone?"
"You are seeing in them what is already in you. That connection with self creates the butterflies."

At the time, I detested that answer. Crankiness would set in with the idea that all our outward wants really come back to us. I hated the way it means personal responsibility. I mourned the way it extinguishes fantasy - the Cinderella story that we are all very attached to, no matter the gender, orientation or kink ratio. Someone to save us.

And now I see it makes sense.
And it frustrates the hell out of me.
And...I'm thrilled through my cunt and down to my toes for all these new realizations.

Sometimes I feel like a toddler who is learning to walk all over again.
It's late.
Just got home. I'm so tired. And content.

I went out with the Bear and bunny for a second screening of Leonard Cohen - I'm Your Man. It's a very good documentary, with a sense of lusciousness. It was their first viewing and I wanted to see it with them because they had introduced me to Cohen's music. If you enjoy his work, try to check out the film. There are some brilliant performances including Antony, Rufus Wainwright, Jarvis Cocker and more.

Just listening to Cohen's ideas and views of the world is delicious. And watching him sing Tower of Song is...heaven.

Afterwards it was out for Ethiopian food which is always good stuff. It's comfort food. And then a lazy half hour in Everyday Music where I glued myself to the listening stations and went on new, eclectic music discovery. No purchases this time.

Very long day. I arrived home to find a note on my door. The 90 year old owner is in town and he's decided that he wants to inspect about 35 apartments. On Wednesday. Ugh. My living room is filled with drawings all over the floor. Butt masturbation drawings, a couple cage drawings...

...I detest "straightening" up.

Granted, I leave my penis paintings out, and the 3x4 foot self portrait in suspension bondage stays. But my new ones are too new. I can't just expose them to the world yet. And it means ditching my timing belt flogger and dildo.

I hate this. Now I know what I'm doing after work on Tuesday. Cleaning....

Here I am holding the icky and happy in the same hand.
Part of life, eh?

Monday, July 17, 2006

New/old routine

I'm not very disciplined, unless I'm in a space where I'm REALLY self-disciplined. I have to gear myself up for it….and IF I can get over the hurdle of doing it every day for a week or two…then I'm golden. Until I come crashing again.

Back east, I was cooking for myself all the time. I ate really well and healthy. There was never a sense of denial or deprivation because I craved the veggies, the fruit, the grapenuts, the spinach. And yes, my diet also consisted of chocolate and ice cream. And lots of tequila. I was leading a very physical life (warehouse work, toting art supplies all over the place, and walking all the time) so my metabolism was cranked up. There was much energy to be had. Almost an overabundance of energy. It was fabulous.

Well over the last 3 or 4 years my energy has gone down the tubes. Lots of good reasons (and a few excuses), including how I was using the bulk of my energy to deal with my inner life and therapy work. The lack of energy led to eating out all the time (too tired to cook). The few times a large shopping was done meant a wonderful dinner for that night and then all the rest of the food would rot in my fridge because either I'd forget there was food in there or didn't have the oomph the next day to create with cooking.

Now that I've been feeling better inside, I'm trying to grab hold of this energy stuff. I know that if I eat better (less processed and less going out) not only will I have an abundance of energy but also cash.

I began about a month ago with breakfast. I've become fairly successful getting back to my daily grapenuts (with bananas or strawberries), nuked for a minute so my teeth don't break. That's an important one.

I've been working out at home. Not quite every day yet, but manage 3 to 4 times a week. Simple things for now - lunges and crunches. Tried pushups but it messed up my left shoulder again. Tripled my walking as well. Found a place down the hill that offers great veggie and fruit smoothies without the frozen yogurt or ice cream or any artificial sugars. So I've been doing that a few times for dinner.

This week (once again) I'm trying to do healthy for lunch. We have a good size kitchen at work - with fullsize refrigerator, microwave, toaster over, french press, espresso machine and regular coffee pot. Yes, we are Seattlites. So I picked up a week's worth of sandwich fixin's - brown bread, turkey, tomatoes, lettuce, etc. Hopefully I can keep it up next week as well.

Dinners right now are tougher. But, if I kick it in gear with the breakfast, lunch and exercise, at some point I'll have the capacity to do home dinners again. It's really very important to me. I know that nutrition and exercise factor directly into in my creativity and overall emotional as well as physical well-being. I crave to get back to a more fit me because then I can take on the whole world again. Not that I have lofty goals....

Unique Outdoor Artist Leaves No Stone Unturned

I haven't been to Myrtle Edwards Park in a couple years. But I remember seeing a few of the balancing pieces then. It made for a joyous walk along the Sound.

For non-Seattlers, part of the Seattle Art Museum's expansion plans include Olympic Sculpture Park located next to Myrtle Edwards Park.
Click here and here for photos.

Here is some of the art to be showcased including a yet to be completed and controversial piece, Father and Son by Louise Bourgeois.

Although I can see the Calder sculpture, Eagle fitting well in the park, I'm also sad to see it leave its current home, in from of the Seattle Asian Art Museum, a few blocks from my house.

Myrtle Edwards is one of my favorite parks because it follows the water. I need to begin going again, more often. And I thoroughly look forward to accessing art and water at the same time.
It gets me off.
Big time.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Isolation and acceptance.
Surrender and power.

So much has happened over the last month. I haven't really written about it. Moment after moment was captured in a be sorted, and today you will get what remains. What I keep, is the overall sense that something has moved. Transformation.

Speaking with a friend this week I put my finger on it.
"I'm not struggling."

Not that life doesn't get challenging. But the deep soul struggle seems to have dissipated for now. Inside, the child frolics with glee or soaks up the sunshine while napping in the long grass on a warm summer day, surrounded by gentle breezes and the slow buzzing of flies.

I couldn't write about it because it was delicate. Precarious. So new. It was all mine. In holding it in my hand, while not white-fisted, I could share with others.

Looking back, I wondered and tried to find if it was one specific moment where the change happened. It's a strange question, similar to my former Teacher's continual question "when does the scene really begin?" If each step and breath is a bridge to the next, it takes all of the past to arrive at where we are now.

Keeping that in mind, what I did need to arrive at and accept is the idea of alone. The weekend I fought and cried and struggled, having worked so long and hard to keep the black aloneness at bay...feeling the pain and isolation, and from there realize I am alone is where my earth shifted in a dramatic move. The day I surrendered, finally, to the fact that no matter who I love, or loves me, I was alone and the only thing I could hang onto was myself and my art...this was my pivotal moment.

The next step came a few weeks later while speaking with a friend. Words tumbled off my lips and in that very moment I felt a new truth. The period appeared at the end of the phrase and I caught a deep breath inside because of the profoundness of this particular light.
We were speaking about suicide.

"I don't understand how they could do it. The few I knew each had everything going for them. They were all successful."

"Success according to whom? You're speaking of a superficial idea of success. You have no idea what was happening in their hearts." I continued, "for the first time in my life, I have an idea. The difference between me and them is their isolation was so great, the bleakness so deep."

He responded "but with therapy, your isolation will go away. With time, dissolve."

"No it won't. It never goes away. I'll learn to live with it. We all have that inside. And most of us have found ways of covering it up so as not to feel the blackness. It never goes away."


"It never goes away."

In relaying the conversation to my shrink a couple days later, he said "in that sentence is the turning point."

That is the demon monster I've fought. Instead of slaying this particular beast, to thrive I am required to befriend it. It needs to become my ally. In doing so, the weight will not overwhelm.
No more running. I needed to learn to embrace my shadow. Embrace it and fuck it.
If I open my ass and let its thick, engorged dick slip in, we can rock together. Then who is really fucking who? Where is the balance of power? Shift the control so my muscles dictate the moves. In surrender to this beast, I can take control.

Within this time, there have been many changes. Potential disasters that, in remaining calm, have been averted. There are new explorations with my art and my sex. This seems to be a time where I am consciously taking risks in vulnerability, getting scared, stepping back a half step and then regroup to plow through, manifesting in an ongoing sexual buzz.

Change is the only constant. I haven't roped the beast of Alone permanently but with this awareness, the battle has shifted. The light is different. The energy richer.

I am in awe.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Guess what day it is?

Happy Birthday Hoss!!!

This man, from the first time I met him, has been a godsend in so many ways. He in his matter-of-fact substantial way has been a solid friend. A few years ago, he informed me that if I were ever sick, he'd be there. He was, in the last few years, the quiet angel that would push me back into my art. He'd rearrange my apartment for it to be not only functional, but showcase some of my work that I was hiding.

Many times, a need or strong want would pop in mind in the morning, and although I wouldn't share it with anyone, within 24 hours, he'd come forth and either hand it to me, or assist me with acquiring it. We had an enjoyable few weeks last year, painting together (when schedules worked out).

He was the first one to pretty much come out and let me know that there were those who loved me but I couldn't even see it, let alone open myself to it. Because of him, I consciously worked on acceptance of love.

Through him, others have come into my life and my heart. He introduced me to Qnetter and his partner for which I'll be forever grateful.

The guy is sexy as hell. His unabashed sex and freedom is a joy to behold. Generous.
He has created and surrounded himself with family. Loving, sexy intelligent people.

Tonight, that family will be gathered around a large table...sharing food, drink and immersion in each other and Hoss.

Happy Birthday.
Thank you.
Love you man.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Director Lian Lunson on musicians, poets, singers as spiritual warriors:

"So many great men have walked the earth. Women too. But I made a film about one of these men, so I'm going to stick with them for now-the searchers, the vastly complex and eternally wandering spiritual warriors. Musicians, poets, singers, artists, those who have been kind enough to take us with them on their journeys. But first they must venture ahead, through the dark night of the soul, through the bleakness of love, the contemplation of suffering, the search for God, for truth.

On and on they journey through the desert. After a while they return and tell us, the ones waiting in the safety of our own confines, what it's like out there. They talk of their encounters and how they have suffered and triumphed over temptation. These men are brave, brave warriors. They venture far off into these lands. They find God, they lose Him again, they go hungry, they thirst, but all the while they keep searching. They've gone ahead through sacrifice and turmoil to make the way easier for the more weak of heart.

These are the men I'm interested in."

Read the whole thing here

I've been seriously hankering to see this film and it opens today. Tomorrow, tomorrow!
I have very few plans this weekend and am excited about that. It's snippets of things...and I think Sunday is fully open. Breaks like that allow for good drawing time.

Still struggling to get the sleep from my eyes. If I didn't have a car appt at 9am, I would have stayed in bed. After the car, I'm free until happy hour with the bunny. We'll walk down to Utrecht, so I can replenish my paper and then tapas at Tangos.

Today's column from Morford:

"That's it, baby," Windows coos, stroking your calves, working its way up to your hard drive. "Just relax, don't worry about a thing." Then come the magic words, the line Windows knows you secretly want to hear, the one guaranteed to send you into OS orbit: "Baby, I'll do it so good you'll think you're using a new MacBook Pro in a wireless cafe in Paris."

Ummm...a warning. If you're a hardcord Windows user, you probably would be better off not reading Windows Gives No Tongue
Doubt? Fear?

It's been a day.
I popped in my headphones, listened pretty much non-stop to some nasty music, kept my sexual groove, and got a buttload of work done. Swiftly and efficiently. It made for a good day.

Taking a lot of risks lately. It's a really strange feeling putting yourself out on a limb while trying to keep listening to your deepest voice.

Just got back from dinner with a friend. I'm not going to out him because he was confiding in me. We were talking about some of his current struggles. He's not sure about a big decision that he may have to make at some point. Part of him sees it as his passion coming to fruition and the other know all the doubts we have.

Some choices we must make. The big question - Are we running toward something or running from something?

Sound familiar?

We all go through it at various times.

I mentioned (which I need to keep reminding myself of) that there is doubt and there is fear. I'm sure the two could coexist. But the wisdom comes in discerning the difference. From the time I was little, I remember hearing "when in doubt, don't." Short, sweet and much truth. If there is doubt, you're better off staying put. That's not true with fear. It could be a step, large or small, which may carry a ton of fear. Fear doesn't mean no. Fear is just fear.

How to tell the difference between doubt and fear?
I know it when immersed in it. My body reacts in a very specific way to doubt. Unfortunately, although it does speak to me, it is a quiet voice. It doesn't scream loud until after I take the step I shouldn't. Then, I can backtrack, step back, or do over.
For me, doubt shows itself in a specific frenetic anxiety that settles in my heart. Fear is felt in my heart as well, but it's another kind of fluttering. Deeper pounding.

Fear doesn't leave until after I've taken the step. Then it falls away in the calmest most beautiful way, leaving an open space where I can take the deepest breaths.

Thing is, no one but ourselves can really tell if it's doubt stopping us or fear.
Life is so strange sometimes.

I'm bushed tonight...and off to bed.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Prix Fixe

Last year I was involved in a performance art piece at the Seattle Erotic Art Festival 2005. Although I tried, I couldn't write about it at the time. Recently there have been discussions about food play. It prompted me to finish my piece.

The premise:

Prix Fixe

From DC McGlothlen, the creator of Prix Fixe:

"About 20 years ago, some friends and I were on our way home to Bellevue from clubbing in Seattle. For reasons that escape me now, we stopped at the Mercer Island Denny’s.

We were seated in a booth against the back wall. In the center of the dining room were a large, even huge man and a slender, even skeletal woman.

The man had a voluptuousness that only a dedication to eating can bring about. The woman had a sensual nature that, it seemed, did not encompass allowing food to pass her lips.

The man ordered plate after plate of food, one at a time. He ordered side-dishes, mainly, and things that, at Denny’s, passed for appetizers.

He took a lovely pleasure in his eating. He paced himself but focused on the task at hand. He was unhurried.

His dinner companion did not eat at all. She never touched her place-setting. She never touched her water glass. She directed her energy to watching her friend eat.

There was a shivery luxury in the way she watched him eat. And a shy happiness in the way the man appreciated her watching him.

And they did not speak to each other at all. Not once. He spoke only to his waitress and then only to order more food or to thank her for food delivered.

His dinner companion mostly smiled. But there was longing in her bony face. And her longing was exultant, transcendent.

They shared a dynamic relationship with his food and with each other. Their experience of the Mercer Island Denny’s seemed to contain only these three elements.

It was like the experience you might have had of kissing a lover with such focus that the rest of the universe collapses down to enfold your impossibly proximal faces.

We left before they did. I’ve never been back. They might still be there.

Prix Fixe is not an attempt to recreate this event but to offer three informal variations upon the theme."

The three variations involved three couples. Each couple, one after the next, would take part in a two hour scene for a total 6 hours. The first were two women, then two men, then DCM and myself. The pairing was mindful, based on body size, one very heavy and one quite thin. That is, except for me. I'm not skinny.


It was a small black stage, highlighting a white linen covered table and two chairs. Two elegant place settings. Flowers.
The Bear and I took our seats. We each had menus. The waiter, clad in his white coat, approached the table to take our order and fill water glasses.
Or...should I say, water glass.

Mine remained empty.

Glancing at the menu, I saw about 20 different selections...and I knew some of them well.
Reading the names, I could taste them on my tongue. They are my friends.

And yet, they are not.

One wine glass received a delicious deep red...
I could smell the grapes.

I watched as the Bear made his first selection.
Bread and a saucer of oil/vinegar was brought.

The feasting began.

Except for periodic glances to his plate or his glass, my eyes remained on his.

As he tasted, savoured the first course, I felt a swelling in my belly.
My thighs began to shake...

The Bear has a penetrating stare. He looks into your eyes and his gaze drives him right into your soul. If he wasn’t looking at his food, he was studying me.

The orgasm began. One of those full body releases that escapes every pore and hole. It came again. And again.

I became nervous because I knew our scene had just begun. If I was cumming now, what would the next 2 hours be like? Anxiety and apprehension took over. I needed to calm myself.

The waiter returned, and the Bear ordered another plate. A groan escaped my lips. I know this food. I crave this food. Watching him enjoy and savor every bite, every crumb, began to leave me wanting. How dare he delight in such bounty in front of me! Envy flooded up and turned to rage. I want this too!

I shook with fury.

Time passed. Plate after plate after plate. One glass of wine and then another. More bread.

My hands were on each side of my chair, gripping to keep control between the anger and the sexual tension.

He was getting full. I could see it and feel it. How could he continue to eat? What if his heart stopped from over indulgence? I know this man very well. I know some of his history.

Then memories. I remembered my problems with food. In my early 20’s I spent a few years with anorexic symptoms. Having been overweight in highschool, reaching 200 lbs, I worked hard to take it off.

The first time my heart was broken it was no longer a challenge. Even the idea of eating left me with a lump in my throat. It took all my energy to bite into a pear.

I decided I could only be loved if thin. My 200 lbs dropped to 125. People would stare and whisper I was too skinny.

Fat never felt good on me. Skinny didn’t either. Food is loaded.

In the last few years I’ve learned to love food and be mindful of moderation. Good, fantastic food, when sharing it with people I love became sex. I wanted his food. I needed to dance in his mouth.

I watched him eat.

Near the end I couldn’t take it anymore. My discomfort was great as I worried for his health. He saw my conflict. Tears sprang to my eyes as I expressed my terror with a look and then a slow tear down the right side of my face. A long, caring look. He saw and returned it, his face filled with love. I’ll never forget it.

The full two hours were spent in silence. Other than the moan that would escape from my lips the only sound was sounds of cooking or the Bear engaging with his meal.

To this day I think about that scene. Each time I attempted to write, my words always felt inadequate. Even now. Still.

My body betrays me as I try to share this with you. It is shaking. Prix Fixe was a quilt, pieced together with varied textures and colors - smells, tastes, emotions, memories, sexual pleasure.
Good morning.

I'm running a little behind today. No time to gather thoughts. Maybe later.

But here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

For Seattle folks, Rob Brezsny is in town today. He is doing a book reading at Elliott Bay Books tonight at 6pm. Or you can tune in to a radio interview today at 2:30 on KUOW. They have livestream.

Great quote from the Brezsny weekly email:

"In teaching my students, I try to figure out what questions I can ask that have no right answer. I seek to frame paradoxes, to force students to develop original thought." -Meg Gorman, Waldorf teacher

Morford writes about listening parties:

"You do not bring, say, Nickelback. You do not bring Green Day. Celine Dion will get you shot after the first bar. Someone once played Blink-182 and he has since been happily and relentlessly taunted and shall never live it down. You may very well bring "Stairway to Heaven," but only if it is "Stairway to Heaven" as performed by an all-lesbian country-punk band from Norway who recorded it on a four-track at some obscure festival just before their singer died from an aneurysm bungee jumping from her Harley.

In other words, you bring something interesting, unexpected. It can be a mainstream band, but the song should be sonically fascinating, well recorded, somehow unique, not something you will hear much on KROQ or that you can find all that easily on iTMS. Yes, there is a certain clunky snobbishness to it all. We do not care. It's our party. You may, of course, set your own parameters. Besides, after two drinks and a smoke, it all sounds really, really good."

Click here to read the whole thing.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

'Bounty' For Killing Gays At World Pride
by Newscenter Staff

July 11, 2006 - 11:00 am ET

"(Jerusalem) Hundreds of leaflets distributed to homes in Jerusalem's ultra-Orthodox area and other parts of the city overnight offer 20,000 Israeli new shekels or about $4,500 US to anyone who kills gays marching in next month's World Pride in Jerusalem."

Entire article here.
Did it.

I sent out a few emails to see if folks were free...and all have responded. Wheeee!
So, I just booked my flight.

Both flights are nonstop. I arrive at JFK on Wednesday, Sept 20 at 5:30 pm.
And I leave JFK on Wednesday, the 27th at 6pm.
Total: $243.60 with fees and taxes.

We have a few months, so can work out details later on.

This very much rocks.
Well, well, well~

a Travelocity Farewatchers just came through my email.
Seattle to JFK, roundtrip, for $223.

I am tempted.
Draw instead of shoot.

Thanks to Angie Garner, she shares an article about her mom. How one person captures memories from their

Check out Fetching Sketching.

From the article:

"It slows you down -- and you see things in a different way," she said. "These drawings bring back memories in a very different way than all of those digital pictures."

I took a trip where I did this once. Normally, I carry my little sketchbook, or grab the back of an envelope and just move my hand. But about 20 years ago, on a trip to Disney World in Florida, with my sister and her kids, I purchased one of the Disney autograph books - the small ones that children buy to get autographs by the Disney characters. While waiting in all the lines for all the rides...I'd draw what I saw. The book was full by the end of the trip. I cherished that little book, but apparently not enough. Although it comes to mind periodically, I have no idea what happened to it. Disappeared with life.

This article is a good prod. Maybe I can push myself even further with my small sketches, but balance it out. I don't want to get hung up on creating good work all the time. But, I love my neighborhood. What's stopping me from sketching it...and sharing that with family and friends?


Monday, July 10, 2006

I really, really wish...

...I weren't so tired.

You see, I want to dig into another drawing. I only captured about 4 hours of sleep last night, waking at 4:30 this morning. And it was a busy weekend. Yesterday was a fabulous day with everyone. I've decided that all my New Yorkers ought to move to Seattle. Better weather. ;-)

It's hard saying goodbye. It was also difficult in April as well, when I was leaving NYC.

Anyway, I'm trying hard to be mindful of my downtime, and not "should" or guilt myself into drawing. The spirit is definitely willing. Other than dinner plans with Michael on Wednesday, I want to be selfish with some alone time. Hungry to get messy with charcoal. It's as if I can't get enough of it and need to touch it each day, but that hasn't been possible. This is a new change that I'm definitely enjoying.

Yesterday, while going around with rogueboi, his Papabear, and Qnetter, we stumbled upon the last performance by Paper Trail Productions. It seems, for the last few years, they perform Shakespeare on the Fremont Troll. This year it was Romeo and Juliet. We caught the balcony scene. Juliet was literally on the troll's head, and Romeo down near his left hand. A lot of fun.

Maybe if I ask nicely, Rogueboi will post some pix once he's recovered from his trip.

We ended the day around the big ass table at Hoss's. An amazing dinner with great food and even more great people flew by too fast, and then it was time to make a trip to the airport.

Life is good. And tonight will be an early night.
Oh my gosh~

Remember the One Red Paperclip guy that I linked to a while back? He wondered if he could get a house by trading. He began with one red paperclip on July 12, 2005, and in June...he got his house!!! He will take possession of it on July 12, 2006, exactly a year from when he began.

On the right side of his blog it lists the progression of the trades. Click on each image to reveal the blog entry.

Dude, you rock!
I am so blessed...

....because I have the best chosen family in the whole entire world.

That is all.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Today...and this past week.

Got up slow.
Did a load of laundry.
TV surfed for a bit.

It was a slow and easy day. I thought, because I kept a quiet day on Thursday, that today would possibly have more energy.
It did. But not as much as I had hoped. It is what it is.

I considered hitting the bar tonight. There's some leather contest and it would have been fun to see a bunch of the guys. But I realized I wasn't up to socializing, mad flirting and some playing. So, I grabbed a friend and we went to a movie. It is an indy film, locally shot. The filmmaker is a Seattle guy. It's screened at many film fests, and Landmark Theaters seems to be doing the distribution on this one. The director, Rick Stevenson, was there tonight and so we enjoyed a Q & A afterward. Nice, very nice guy. I was impressed with him...

The movie is a sweet film. Dark comedy. Expiration Date.
Killer milk trucks and a narcoleptic dog.

I hoped to be able to do more drawings today, but really didn't have the strength.
I hoped to be able to write today as well.
This is the only writing that happened.

My shrink once told me that as I continue to heal, I will regain more energy. Yes, being an introvert, I need the alone to regroup...because big groups are draining, but he keeps reassuring me that it won't be as extreme as it's been and is.

What I have noticed since I've begun art again is that I need lots of down time away from people to collect the energy to create. Maybe that will balance out as well.

A lot of magic has happened this week. Some I want to share, and some I'm keeping more private.
There's been some letting go, which has manifested itself in a drawing.
Grieving and mourning in a different way than the past.
I promise. I will write about that soon.

Awareness of a big truth that came to light this week...regarding isolation.

Greater connection with myself.
Quieter mind...very little angst.
Many emotions.
Watching new friendships unfold in a deeper way.
Some warm fuzzies, butterflies and hot lusty thoughts.
Actually, most of the week has been spent in an aroused state.

I feel stronger.
Much stronger.

I also feel so incredibly blessed that my art seems to have returned. Not that it went anywhere. Guess it's more that I am learning to be vulnerable to myself.
I want to write about that in more depth as well.

Trust me, this is still all scary stuff. But there seems to be a determination that is larger than the fear.

Tomorrow is a full day, from picking Kerry and Michael up at the cruise boat in the morning, to showing them Seattle, dim sum with the Seattle crew, more sightseeing...ending with a dinner at Hoss's...and then a trip to the airport.
So...Time for bed.

Friday, July 07, 2006

"...pass the scotch."

"It is like some sort of virus. It is like some sort of weird and painful rash on your face that makes you embarrassed to walk out the door and so you sit there day after day, waiting for it to go away, slathering on ointment and Bactine and scotch. And yet still it lingers.

Some days the pain is so searing and hot you want to cut off your own head with a nail file. Other days it is numb and pain-free and seemingly OK, to the point where you think it might finally be all gone and you allow yourself a hint of a whisper of a positive feeling, right up until you look in the mirror, and scream.

George W. Bush is just like that."

Those are the opening paragraphs of today's column by Mark Morford.

There is more to write about but it will have to wait. I'm headed out the door to pick up my coworker, and then catch a boat.

I will say that in the quiet, yesterday was incredibly powerful. Some additional healing that even led to a new drawing. It was subject matter that I struggled with for 5 years...painted over and over.

Yesterday. Short. Quick. Intense.
Still immersed in sexual energy.

There it was.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Self care~

Tomorrow we are having an all day staff retreat.

I know these are important. From seeing the agenda, we'll be delving into some pretty needed stuff. A donor loaned us his vacation home across the bay, so not only will we ferry over but I'll have water views for the day. I love my coworkers.


...meetings and retreats not only do not feed but suck all the energy out of me.

So how to prep?

I've made plans with the only other introvert in the office. Instead of carpooling with the others, he and I are going together. At least the before and after won't be filled with incessant chatter.
Seeing I'm taking today off because I'm normally off on Fridays, I've opted for quiet day.

In addition to going for a long walk, doing some cleaning, pulling out a piece of writing that I've struggled with in the past...I'm going to catch a matinee in my favorite theater of a movie I've wanted to see. Today is the last day at the Harvard Exit for Peaceful Warrior. I like the during the week matinees at the Harvard because normally there's only a handful of people.

While googling for the movie site I found this. It lists the characteristics of a peaceful warrior, right in tune with buddhist philosophy. The idea of a peaceful warrior, in our space in time, seems paradoxical. But it's not. I can actually envision what our world would be like if we all encompassed the idea of peaceful warrior. So much so it makes me cry.

Today will also be a drawing day. It excites me.

Last night, I worked a few pieces. A surprise email ignited my body. Raging sexual desire dripped from every pore. Instead of wanking off in the traditional sense, I opted to channel it in my art. In doing so, it extended and expanded the energy. Not only did I go to bed in a hot state but was carried through the night into morning. I woke with fantasies and then opted for physical release.

Regardless of whether the final pieces are good or not, combining fiery sexual energy into the act of painting makes me very, very happy. Those are the times I feel most complete and Artist. To flow between my cunt, my belly, my hand and my eye using paper, brushes, charcoal, cocks, toys...whatever...

...that is the life I seek to continually immerse myself in.

It quiets the intellect and the analyst in myself and rips open the door for the Beast.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Today is…

…one of those days where I just want to stay tucked away from the world, under ALL my covers.

For me, our world is a very uncomfortable place to be. I need to feel really strong and brave to step into it. When I'm feeling all discombobbled inside, like seems near impossible to be out there.
Good morning.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Morford writes about the death of the newspaper. Or not.

"Like anyone who works in or around or underneath an ink 'n' grit newspaper these days, I get asked this all the time: Is the newspaper dead? Aren't all the nation's print rags suffering a horrible hemorrhaging of money and readership and cred? How much longer can dead-tree news possibly last in the age of blogs and cell phones and ADD media? Why are you naked? Does this look overly tumescent to you? And so on.

And the answer to most of those questions is, of course, yes. And no. And sort of. And maybe you should quit touching that."

The whole column here.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006


It's almost noon and I've yet to have breakfast. Why?
I slept in until 10. Majorly rare occurrence. Solid 8 hours, then when then sun hit my eyes, I used a pillow to shield me from the rays and it seems I fell back to sleep. Yes!


While walking back with coffee in hand, I sat in the courtyard and enjoyed the morning. The sun disappeared, and it's a great grey day. I took in the quiet of the neighborhood.

Then, sounds of life.

The rhythmic footsteps of runners as they approached my block. A dog began barking and wouldn't stop for a while. Someone across the street began playing the piano. And a woman somewhere was having amazing sex. Orgasm after orgasm. Nice...


Didn't make it to Superman at IMAX yesterday. All sold out. But, walked around Seattle Center for a while, sat near the big fountain and watched the children play in the water. Every once in a while the fountain would stop spraying. Children, like little bugs, would tentatively approach...and then...BAM! Much squealing and laughter.

Picked up tickets for another IMAX film - Greece: Secrets of the Past. Then home to have a bunch of sex. It was impulsive and perfect.


Needed food afterward, and so we ended up at Cafe Septieme. Yes, you heard that right.

For the last 3 weeks, I've struggled with the idea of returning to the cafe. What prompted my angst was bumping into one of the waitstaff at that time. They mentioned that they were hoping the regulars who had disappeared would return. They missed us. After much thought and a few shrink sessions, it felt like the right time to return. I personally don't care what others do. It's an individual choice. Do what is right for you.

Last night, I sat at the sidewalk table and one waiter, who I hadn't see in almost a few months, came up behind me and put his arms around me:

"M...what are you doing here?"
"Well a little bird told me that some of you wanted the regulars back. Is that correct?"
"Yes. We're really glad to see you."

While sitting there, a couple of friends walked past, and after speaking with them a bit, they decided to return as well, so popped in and grabbed a table.


I think I mentioned a while back that I was being heavily recruited to be part of a certain leather organization here in town. My energy is limited, and I detest meetings, committees and drama. For me, it's a massive energy suck. If one reason isn't enough, I have a list of them. It just doesn't feel like a good move. But, something is nagging at me, and we haven't formally I am willing to take the time, do a face to face and talk. I'm trying to remain open and not use old behaviors or ideas to limit my world.

It seems they want my ideas (so they've explained). I kept saying, via email or in passing that they are not going to like my opinions. Recently, I've been included in a group email for a certain idea. Because I developed a very strong opinion and was cc'd, I jumped in. The idea was good, but I was adverse to how it would be achieved. Again, it confirmed to me the fact that I wasn't the right person to be a part of this organization. I am going to say things that folks don't want to hear.

Last night I bumped into the president and another member. They mentioned they really appreciated my thoughts and that is the very reason they want me, in whatever capacity I can tolerate. As little or as much. Pres said "I need someone who is going to tell us like it is wiithout worrying about kissing my ass. I have too many 'yes men' right now."


At work, I know I'm seen as the gloom and doom guy because I bring up questions that haven't been looked at. Not that I shoot down ideas normally, but offer potential scenarios. It's more along the lines of "have you thought of this.." or "what if this happens?" or "we can't do it in that way because of audit requirements".

Not that every question needs to be answered, but if questions arise, don't play ostrich and live in a limited fantasy space. At least look at it.

Here is a group that is looking for that very thing from me. Huh.
I'm not quite sure what to do with that. I still have my priorities which are work, therapy and painting. I still don't want to expend energy in a group grope that is disguised as using the "seattle queer leather community" as its beneficiary when I believe our activism is best served when we work outside of the "community".

Don't get me wrong. Group gropes are needed, and important. But be honest about it. Don't use philanthropy as the reason for mutual masturbation.

S/M and Leather really are a luxury. People who struggle for survival (in whatever capacity) can't indulge in workshops, conferences, bar scenes, titles, new hide. I have no desire to spend time catering to a large group when my excess time would be better served one on one, or working for a small organization that is struggling to keep its doors open while offering an invaluable service, such as homeless queer youth, or HIV/AIDS services, etc.

My two cents.


Now my belly is screaming for food.
Time to eat.