i did my going out of town laundry today. when i was hanging the clothes on the line i found myself pondering the many contraptions i've used to hold up smoosh down strap in and contain my breasts. I realized that in so many days i'll no longer need them. i won't miss them.
Then remembered and mourned a moment the well crafted leather pervyslut halter top i've yet to have the occasion to wear.wondering if i can sell it on ebay or craigslist...how much...
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
scraping life together in the face of this (could contain triggers)
First I want mention how shitty i think this reporting is.then i want to mention how these murders spotlight the vulnerability at the intersection of poor and trans and first nations. or should i say classism, trans-phobia and racism. they also spotlight how much fucking work there is to do and the urgency of it all. its not just theory, or a good poem, or a workshop.
heavy on my heart, and a screaming need to change this.
Looking at whats on my agenda, consider my fortress. why its there. why i need it, why i need to leave it and find others.
fuck.i used to live in a shitty apt. on the 500 block of maple SE.
Another Cross-Dresser Found Dead
By T.J. Wilham
Journal Staff Writer
Three cross-dressers have been found beaten to death on the city's Southeast side in the past four years.
Two of the men were found in the past month.
All the victims were apparently American Indian, and their bodies were lying in the middle of streets or alleys.
But police said Monday that they have no information to lead them to believe the three homicides are related. Investigators said two victims were prostitutes. The latest deaths occurred in a neighborhood just east of Presbyterian Hospital, three blocks from each other.
"At this point, it is still very early in the investigation to determine if there is a correlation between these homicides," Albuquerque police spokeswoman Nadine Hamby said. "As this investigation continues, we will see if there is a link. Because they were all dressed as women doesn't mean they were all related, but we can't rule that out, either."
The latest killing occurred Saturday when police found Teri Benally, 42, beaten to death shortly after 1 a.m. in the 500 block of Maple SE. Investigators said they do not have a motive in the killing, but believe Benally was meeting someone he met online.
Benally was found three blocks from where Fredrick Watson, 32, was killed June 9. Watson was dressed in women's clothing. Investigators are looking into the possibility that Watson was killed by a customer. According to court records, Watson had four prior prostitution arrests.
Ryan Shey Hoskie, 23, had three prior prostitution arrests when he was found beaten to death in January 2005 in the 1600 block of Ridgecrest SE. Hoskie was partially clothed in women's attire.
Janice Devereaux of Transgender New Mexico Support Group said many transgender prostitutes become victims when they don't make their sexuality clear and their customers "don't realize what they are getting into" and retaliate.
heavy on my heart, and a screaming need to change this.
Looking at whats on my agenda, consider my fortress. why its there. why i need it, why i need to leave it and find others.
fuck.i used to live in a shitty apt. on the 500 block of maple SE.
Another Cross-Dresser Found Dead
By T.J. Wilham
Journal Staff Writer
Three cross-dressers have been found beaten to death on the city's Southeast side in the past four years.
Two of the men were found in the past month.
All the victims were apparently American Indian, and their bodies were lying in the middle of streets or alleys.
But police said Monday that they have no information to lead them to believe the three homicides are related. Investigators said two victims were prostitutes. The latest deaths occurred in a neighborhood just east of Presbyterian Hospital, three blocks from each other.
"At this point, it is still very early in the investigation to determine if there is a correlation between these homicides," Albuquerque police spokeswoman Nadine Hamby said. "As this investigation continues, we will see if there is a link. Because they were all dressed as women doesn't mean they were all related, but we can't rule that out, either."
The latest killing occurred Saturday when police found Teri Benally, 42, beaten to death shortly after 1 a.m. in the 500 block of Maple SE. Investigators said they do not have a motive in the killing, but believe Benally was meeting someone he met online.
Benally was found three blocks from where Fredrick Watson, 32, was killed June 9. Watson was dressed in women's clothing. Investigators are looking into the possibility that Watson was killed by a customer. According to court records, Watson had four prior prostitution arrests.
Ryan Shey Hoskie, 23, had three prior prostitution arrests when he was found beaten to death in January 2005 in the 1600 block of Ridgecrest SE. Hoskie was partially clothed in women's attire.
Janice Devereaux of Transgender New Mexico Support Group said many transgender prostitutes become victims when they don't make their sexuality clear and their customers "don't realize what they are getting into" and retaliate.
Monday, July 6, 2009
more new mexico poetry...
I'm passing on a video of local poet Hakim Bellamy. I've had the privilege of seeing him perform many times over the years here and when i stumbled upon this video i thought i'd share it w/ y'all...enjoy!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
femme2fag pt1: finding home in the hungry body
life sometimes seems to be about a series of unveiling's, peeling away of layers. discovering whats there. sunlight hitting the newest skin. whether i'm ready or not.
in july i'm having chest surgery. the breasts go. gone. fantastic...and frightening...but mostly fantastic.
i think the biggest head fuck over this is the money. I'm on a fixed income, 8k a year, lucky to have a roof over my head. i try to make ends meet by not eating as much food as i likely need to, i go a little bit hungry every day. i live on thin ice. so...who the fuck am i to get an 8 thousand dollar body modification? who the fuck am i to do anything other than sit tight and try not to cost anything? or, how happy am i gonna be with my new chest when i'm sleeping in my fucking car?
since i sold my little home in chacon i've been looking for a new home to buy. but here i am almost 2 years later, the money steadily dwindling, and i haven't found it. i can't get a mortgage so i'm limited to owner financing. and in order for payments to be reasonable for me the property has to 50k or less. you don't get crap for 50k or less in new mexico unless i wanna go waaaaay back out to the middle of nowhere and once again live w/out running water and electricity.The cost of rent is beyond my income. section 8 lists are miles long.
so in the meantime theres been the surgery. this is likely my only opportunity for such a privileged procedure. its attainable w/ the money i have left. if i don't do something the money will disappear into car repairs and dog food. at least with the surgery, it can't be taken away. can't be lost to poverty.
its mine. its my body. its my sense of self. its who i am.
bizarre is how i'm making all the last minutes details come together for this huge journey and surgery while in between those tasks and thoughts i'm a deer in the headlights. my brain desperately trying to find a way out of what feels inevitable. inevitable instability. It feels like when i was a little kid and i was standing at the edge of the shallow end in a pool when i began to slide. slide. slide into the deep end. under i went and i could see the light at the top of the water. and the murky unknown darkness at the deepest point of the pool.
planning surgery is easy. its a straight(hardly)forward task made up of little tasks like emails and list making and research. keeps my head above the murky waters of where the hell am i going to live and make ends meet and not be isolated...and, god forbid, do some work for myself and this fucked up world.
i think i'm harboring some sort of dangerous idea that after surgery something will shift. that the skin shedding will free something up. that the new skin will beam with light.
that i'll start swimming.
in july i'm having chest surgery. the breasts go. gone. fantastic...and frightening...but mostly fantastic.
i think the biggest head fuck over this is the money. I'm on a fixed income, 8k a year, lucky to have a roof over my head. i try to make ends meet by not eating as much food as i likely need to, i go a little bit hungry every day. i live on thin ice. so...who the fuck am i to get an 8 thousand dollar body modification? who the fuck am i to do anything other than sit tight and try not to cost anything? or, how happy am i gonna be with my new chest when i'm sleeping in my fucking car?
since i sold my little home in chacon i've been looking for a new home to buy. but here i am almost 2 years later, the money steadily dwindling, and i haven't found it. i can't get a mortgage so i'm limited to owner financing. and in order for payments to be reasonable for me the property has to 50k or less. you don't get crap for 50k or less in new mexico unless i wanna go waaaaay back out to the middle of nowhere and once again live w/out running water and electricity.The cost of rent is beyond my income. section 8 lists are miles long.
so in the meantime theres been the surgery. this is likely my only opportunity for such a privileged procedure. its attainable w/ the money i have left. if i don't do something the money will disappear into car repairs and dog food. at least with the surgery, it can't be taken away. can't be lost to poverty.
its mine. its my body. its my sense of self. its who i am.
bizarre is how i'm making all the last minutes details come together for this huge journey and surgery while in between those tasks and thoughts i'm a deer in the headlights. my brain desperately trying to find a way out of what feels inevitable. inevitable instability. It feels like when i was a little kid and i was standing at the edge of the shallow end in a pool when i began to slide. slide. slide into the deep end. under i went and i could see the light at the top of the water. and the murky unknown darkness at the deepest point of the pool.
planning surgery is easy. its a straight(hardly)forward task made up of little tasks like emails and list making and research. keeps my head above the murky waters of where the hell am i going to live and make ends meet and not be isolated...and, god forbid, do some work for myself and this fucked up world.
i think i'm harboring some sort of dangerous idea that after surgery something will shift. that the skin shedding will free something up. that the new skin will beam with light.
that i'll start swimming.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
catching the storm
there’s a fury nesting in my chest
its all beating wings
and high winds
it roosts there w/ a keen eye for the clouding skies
since I collided
with her feet
then I collided
with her fists
and shes my mirror
she’s my wretched
warrior
she flails about me
reflecting I have
shoved back
kicked away
screamed at
begged to
thrashed and cried
thrown glass
slammed doors
so do I seek them out?
the feet and the fists
and the words like sling shot
into the mirror
into the beaten debris
laid bare for all the world to see
i’m no stranger to those rushed lightning acts of rage
I’ve been the adrenaline warrior flailing the fury
the storm
enacting revenge
or acting the bulls eye
laid bare
for the open stare
her
and I ache where her fury
collided into my
disconnect
where my disbelief turned to face her storm
where i pushed back
wielding a mirror image
that’s so plain
to see
there’s this fury in my chest
its wings are beating on my rib cage
crashing up against my lungs deepest breath
and I understand now
the anatomy of a storm
the travel patterns of lightning
as it rolls thru building tension
it envelopes everything in its path
leaves everything changed
everything bruised and left to heal
seems i’m forever healing exhaling the slowest relief
seems i’m forever on my knees in the slightest light
my chest closed tight
i look around and everywhere
everywhere
is the debris of me.
*i began writing this poem years ago. i'm finally happy enough w/ a draft to share. as usual, i think its better performed.
its all beating wings
and high winds
it roosts there w/ a keen eye for the clouding skies
since I collided
with her feet
then I collided
with her fists
and shes my mirror
she’s my wretched
warrior
she flails about me
reflecting I have
shoved back
kicked away
screamed at
begged to
thrashed and cried
thrown glass
slammed doors
so do I seek them out?
the feet and the fists
and the words like sling shot
into the mirror
into the beaten debris
laid bare for all the world to see
i’m no stranger to those rushed lightning acts of rage
I’ve been the adrenaline warrior flailing the fury
the storm
enacting revenge
or acting the bulls eye
laid bare
for the open stare
her
and I ache where her fury
collided into my
disconnect
where my disbelief turned to face her storm
where i pushed back
wielding a mirror image
that’s so plain
to see
there’s this fury in my chest
its wings are beating on my rib cage
crashing up against my lungs deepest breath
and I understand now
the anatomy of a storm
the travel patterns of lightning
as it rolls thru building tension
it envelopes everything in its path
leaves everything changed
everything bruised and left to heal
seems i’m forever healing exhaling the slowest relief
seems i’m forever on my knees in the slightest light
my chest closed tight
i look around and everywhere
everywhere
is the debris of me.
*i began writing this poem years ago. i'm finally happy enough w/ a draft to share. as usual, i think its better performed.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
the sun rises on fabulous
Beyonce's Single Ladies dance performed by Darius Crenshaw, Grasan Kingsberry, and Brian Brooks with bonus choreography.
this took my mind off all my troubles this morning...for a few minutes. so so yummy.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
is this not
the gayest flower ever? well, second to daffodils anyway...
i just had to buy these at the nursery cuz the little tab stuck in the dirt said "daddy's mix"
heh.
i just had to buy these at the nursery cuz the little tab stuck in the dirt said "daddy's mix"
heh.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
how to resist dissappearing.
its intense. all the changes. the long term effects of isolation. esp. the last 6 years of rural living on my own. and the loss, still digesting all the loss. my home, my little mt. life , my sheep. and living here in this tiny apt. i can't really afford, or weave in. in a town where i know 2 accessible people, and they don't really get on w/ each other.
(but hey, don't think for moment i don't appreciate the plumbing, the fridge, the endless hot hot water and electricity that doesn't cut out for a day here and there....its fantastic)
I'm only beginning to grasp the depth to which being so isolated has changed me.
this in town thing....it means i deal w/ random people everyday. every frikkin' day, in some capacity. and ya know, i'm ok w/ cashiers...i can hold a minute long chatty inane convo no problem. but oh my if i'm presented w/ a social situation whereby i have to have a convo longer than a minute, where there is implied relating going on, i swear i can't see straight, don't know what to do w/ my hands and often i can't remember what i've said afterward.
i'm always checking in w/ a friend after any social thing happens to see if i "did ok".
I do fine w/ one on one relating w/ someone i know well, thats not a problem.i enjoy the intimacy. its socializing i can't seem to handle, my brain just blows a fuse.
I have no idea how to go about getting to know someone new. no idea. i'm so used to peopele not being accessible, or worth the effort to gain access, or even being an option.
its so deeply ingrained in me to self-sustain, to not need anyone. to put on a smile and a quick laugh but to protect myself from people, no...to protect myself from needing people.
so i'm pushing. i'm pushing through.
I'm not always successful.
i'm resisting the urge, which is really a habit now, to stay one step ahead of the seemingly inevitable inaccessibility, marginalization and confusion by just staying home, staying out of it. i'm pushing through the dizzy nausea that comes up when i think about attending a social gathering. honestly, just the loud roar of everyones many agendas makes me want hole up in bed after a hot hot shower...never mind the perfumes, detergents and hair products.
i'm not quite convinced that humans are worth it. still feeling that where i belong is on a green grassy hillside conversing telepathically w/ my sheep...not navigating my way through traffic, spending cash i don't have and chit chatting w/ city folk in a cloud of pollution.
but...i'm here...my mt. home is gone, that place was a dream 10 years in the making and 5 years of living and its gone. systematically dismantled by poverty and disability. i chose to leave in order to survive.
and i'm here now, a little lost.always contemplating my next move. focused on surviving, on not dissapearing.
i'm not yet brave enough to dream.
(but hey, don't think for moment i don't appreciate the plumbing, the fridge, the endless hot hot water and electricity that doesn't cut out for a day here and there....its fantastic)
I'm only beginning to grasp the depth to which being so isolated has changed me.
this in town thing....it means i deal w/ random people everyday. every frikkin' day, in some capacity. and ya know, i'm ok w/ cashiers...i can hold a minute long chatty inane convo no problem. but oh my if i'm presented w/ a social situation whereby i have to have a convo longer than a minute, where there is implied relating going on, i swear i can't see straight, don't know what to do w/ my hands and often i can't remember what i've said afterward.
i'm always checking in w/ a friend after any social thing happens to see if i "did ok".
I do fine w/ one on one relating w/ someone i know well, thats not a problem.i enjoy the intimacy. its socializing i can't seem to handle, my brain just blows a fuse.
I have no idea how to go about getting to know someone new. no idea. i'm so used to peopele not being accessible, or worth the effort to gain access, or even being an option.
its so deeply ingrained in me to self-sustain, to not need anyone. to put on a smile and a quick laugh but to protect myself from people, no...to protect myself from needing people.
so i'm pushing. i'm pushing through.
I'm not always successful.
i'm resisting the urge, which is really a habit now, to stay one step ahead of the seemingly inevitable inaccessibility, marginalization and confusion by just staying home, staying out of it. i'm pushing through the dizzy nausea that comes up when i think about attending a social gathering. honestly, just the loud roar of everyones many agendas makes me want hole up in bed after a hot hot shower...never mind the perfumes, detergents and hair products.
i'm not quite convinced that humans are worth it. still feeling that where i belong is on a green grassy hillside conversing telepathically w/ my sheep...not navigating my way through traffic, spending cash i don't have and chit chatting w/ city folk in a cloud of pollution.
but...i'm here...my mt. home is gone, that place was a dream 10 years in the making and 5 years of living and its gone. systematically dismantled by poverty and disability. i chose to leave in order to survive.
and i'm here now, a little lost.always contemplating my next move. focused on surviving, on not dissapearing.
i'm not yet brave enough to dream.
Monday, May 18, 2009
"There is enough love and good will in our movement to give energy to our struggle and still have plenty left over to break down and change the climate of hate and fear around us."-Cesar Chavez
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
home again home again jiggedy jig....
i went home to ny for a week...it wasn't enough time. partly i was on an information collecting mission.it cost me a friggin' fortune.
santa fe is wearing on me. i only want to stay here in this weird town if theres a way to build in my friends yard, where i would have affordable housing and a working class queer refuge in a gentrified landscape...otherwise, i gotsta go.
so, once again i headed home to try and get a feel. realistically what i should do is visit there in january eh?
i looked at a house for sale on linden st. right near south ave. walk to everything kinda location...it was great. i had a huge crush...it sold like the next day. i think it was forsale for 2 days.it was a dirt cheap freddie mac foreclosure.
bck out where my mom lives, i managed to find some sheep!
what was nice about going in may is that the summer people hadn't infested the fingerlakes yet so i had keuka lake to myself. there weren't even any boats on th water, very nice.
ok, i've been in the desert so long now that i take pictures of grass...its true. it fascinates me. draws me like a siren.
and, for those of you who read my "free ketchup" post, this is a follow up. here we having living proof that the ketchup bottles rightful place is on the table...for free.
santa fe is wearing on me. i only want to stay here in this weird town if theres a way to build in my friends yard, where i would have affordable housing and a working class queer refuge in a gentrified landscape...otherwise, i gotsta go.
so, once again i headed home to try and get a feel. realistically what i should do is visit there in january eh?
i looked at a house for sale on linden st. right near south ave. walk to everything kinda location...it was great. i had a huge crush...it sold like the next day. i think it was forsale for 2 days.it was a dirt cheap freddie mac foreclosure.
bck out where my mom lives, i managed to find some sheep!
what was nice about going in may is that the summer people hadn't infested the fingerlakes yet so i had keuka lake to myself. there weren't even any boats on th water, very nice.
ok, i've been in the desert so long now that i take pictures of grass...its true. it fascinates me. draws me like a siren.and, for those of you who read my "free ketchup" post, this is a follow up. here we having living proof that the ketchup bottles rightful place is on the table...for free.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
how to stay here
and pliable not brittle full of little
cracks
the days im like a ghost wandering through crowds
brittle creeps up
bitter creeps up to break me.
i keep my hands in my pockets.
i keep smiling.
my teeth ache from holding on
brittle full of little cracks
deep inside my pockets i clutch my keys
spare change
and bits of paper say i'm here
i'm fucking here
stomachs bitter creeping says
for what?
for the chance
to feel something
for the something i haven't thought of yet
for a supple bellowing laugh
to drown the bitter in sweet
cracks
the days im like a ghost wandering through crowds
brittle creeps up
bitter creeps up to break me.
i keep my hands in my pockets.
i keep smiling.
my teeth ache from holding on
brittle full of little cracks
deep inside my pockets i clutch my keys
spare change
and bits of paper say i'm here
i'm fucking here
stomachs bitter creeping says
for what?
for the chance
to feel something
for the something i haven't thought of yet
for a supple bellowing laugh
to drown the bitter in sweet
Friday, April 10, 2009
¡abejas!
they're here they're here!
here i'm seeing if the queen is alive before i put her in the hive.she comes in a little box w/ a candy door and has to basically eat her way out,this take a some time and meanwhile her presence orients all the workers to stick around and get to work.
now i'm literally pouring thousands of them out of this box into the hive. i was mesmerized by it...
so now i just let them get started on doin' what they do and check back in a week...
here i'm seeing if the queen is alive before i put her in the hive.she comes in a little box w/ a candy door and has to basically eat her way out,this take a some time and meanwhile her presence orients all the workers to stick around and get to work.
now i'm literally pouring thousands of them out of this box into the hive. i was mesmerized by it...
so now i just let them get started on doin' what they do and check back in a week...
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