Category Archives: activism

liberal, ftw! (or: let’s see which i can abuse more- the hyphen or the parenthesis)

Did y’all see this on Salon? It’s a great article about the leftifying of America and is full of excellent information that makes me feel positive and proud of my bleedy heart: Relax, Liberals, You’ve Already Won.

I also discovered, or was involved in co-discovery with, Lynn Alexander’s The Essential Industry. Lynn has a fascinating and smart blog she runs from Pittsburgh, my own Pet Big City. (I am sooo urban and hip because I lived in a gigantic city of wild burghiness for a whole ten months. Did you know?) Lynn has an insightful post about health care and the pure, unmitigated bullshit that is mandatory purchased health insurance.

I’m really enamored with the concept of her blog, i.e. that creative human enterprises are the only true essential industry. I love that the home of said blog is the steel-and-smoke-stained-stone scape of Pittsburgh. I love this, and (I’m reading so many incredible blogs based out of there) the idea that there is this change of the guard happening between evil, polluting, capitalist, eat-everything-in-it’s-path industry and hand-made/fair-trade/sustainable goods.  It  has obviously not reached the tipping point yet but  you can kinda feel the energy rising, y’know?

Somewhere while I was drinking in Lynn’s blog with my coffee this morning, I saw an allusion to the sort of apologetic or closeted stance liberals sometimes take. (Gak- can’t find it now.) But that along with the Salon article sort of buoyed my spirits. I felt like churning out a trillion liberal slogan teeshirts and wearing them everywhere or getting a tattoo on my forehead of a peace sign with a rainbow triangle and a pentagram and a venus symbol with a fist:)

I also Publicly Apologize for the terrific injustice I have done to you by forgetting to show link love to Thomai of MetaHara. Check out her video montage of her production projects- below- and read her journal.

mommy propaganda?

I was invited to participate in another benefit show (this one is for Artists Against AIDS later this summer.) The theme is propaganda art, which should be stunningly retro-hip and witty. I’m thinking peace will be an overriding motif, and wonderfully so. I think I should go my own specific little crunchy way and do something about mothering or breastfeeding or something. I’m thinking maybe about how we sexualize babies’ food sources, i.e. boobs are not primary sexual organs. Or, I may go the “feminist isn’t a dirty word” route and vent some rage against young girls’ squeamish hesitance to use that word.

badd: blog against disablism day

Synchronicity swirling around me again, I am having the Week of Addressing Disabilities. My supervisor recruited me to speak about the clinic at a middle school for a diversity workshop they held yesterday. I decided to integrate some talk about myself too, and it worked beautifully. I was able to start with my arm and then use that to talk about visible versus invisible disabilities, and then segued into what we do at the clinic. [Sorry, but I gotta leave some vagueness about work intact for Secret Identity Purposes to protect my beloved work place from being associated with a Radical and Highly Controversial Blogger and Purveyor of Subversive Ideas. *snort* Read: Mommyblogger with delusions of awesomeness who is so undersexed she thinks lists of hot chick crushes is somehow revolutionary;)]

I had dreaded the speaking part, but it was groovy. The kids had insightful, intelligent questions and there were a handful of kids with special needs throughout the day and that plus me equaled a successful discussion of various abilities and disorders that pretty much completely avoided “other-ness” language.

So, I survived my uneasiness with public speaking, which is not terrible, really. Just butterflies and a dry mouth. Then this morning I sat down with my cup of coffee at my neglected computer to read my poor ignored feed reader and saw that my beautiful Soul Sistah Lexie had written a BADD post. Having a bit of extra time this morning, I decided to write a post. Which, it now seems, has been quite overtaken by its own introduction. So quickly, let me repost, again, my sexy self portrait that was my own personal One Armed Sexy Witch Mama coming out party.

Only, wow. I do not have one arm. I completely negate my right arm all the freaking time! I have two arms, and two hands even. Meh… is it just shorthand? Because I could spend all day explaining myself into circles. Seven fingers, one long arm, one short.

And without further rambling, I give you my actual post:

Here is the state of my consciousness regarding my birth defect about a year ago:

It was seriously, asskickingly empowering to create and post this piece. I love that it ended up so sexy. It really was only revealing skin to show my arm off better but yeah. Owning my own image and really synthesizing my arm with its strange look and the sexual side of me was kind of huge. I’ve always had “sexual being” and “mutant arm chick” as wholly different selves in my brain, until that self portrait. In fact, I think mutant arm self had its very own tightly guarded box that was separate from everything, actually. You can see the entire original post here.

So forgive the indulgent reposting of the portrait, but I offer it in celebration of BADD and badass mutant hot people everywhere.

april, rain(n)

it’s nearly the end of april
rain keeps calling: dig deep,
go within, and rediscover
that serpent coiled and sleeping
too soundly, a knot
at the base of my spine.

it’s got me on a kick
painting in binary code
blasting tori, screaming
all off key and laughing

(the names of our daughters
are pins in a map
to find this:

who are we now?

motherswomen)

where is my sex, in
banshee wails and curtains
of rain and the temperature
in wild flux?
cocooning in quilts that
smell of the dog and
baby’s bath and
our last sweat?

is it there, bled out of me
with the moon and just too tired?
or leaking out slowly with
a mother’s tears and milk?

are you there, still, in the painting of red and blue? these colors

you used to show me in tantric visions
when i was a gateway and
atheist lips called me goddess
while strong hands washed my feet

snakes used to writhe so hard they stung and bit
and now their slumber is a lullaby
of heartbeats and exhausted sighs
did we lull it to sleep
with our familiarity?

have i known you too long?
(and now you’ve seen inside me)
and emptied of secrets
and wearied of shared worries
can we find the madness
that pulled us in to it?

can we spark and spin
and wake the snakes wound
tight in sleep inside us?
can some art or artifice reimagine
and rework the passion
and heat that slumbers?

can i build new secrets
to draw you back
and shimmer again like
a careless thing still
smoking and glowing
in the shadows?

can you cry out
and wake it and can i
let go what sent the thing to
sleep and just watch

the fires rise again and twist?

More Kundalini musing…still blogging for RAINN, still chasing my tail, still writing poems about snakes and moons. (Morrison… Doors… Blake…) I invoked William Blake in ritual when we were calling our ancestors. Seemed strange to never have thought of calling to him in circle. Wonder what his mystic Christian soul thought of this, a funky witch in fake ivy and nose ring invoking his presence all uninvited?

________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.

let me take a lesbian moment

…and tell you who is so smoking hot. Tina Fey is. And Gillian Anderson, zOMG she is in Maxim* and it is So. Damn. Yummy. And so is Maggie and Olivia Wilde and Jewel Staite and Brooke Wassername from Idol. These are my current girl crushes, just so we’re current. And Alyson Hannigan, you know, she’s up there with Mags. Love.

My current and persistent heterosexual relationship (hi, we call that a marriage in the nice, simple real world outside my head) does not sully my lovely balanced Kinsey scale rating because my fantasies are so queer. I like that Dr. Kinsey realized that our fantasies and such are an important part of the holistic picture of our sexuality. Good on him.

And her is a LOLMaggie, which is a thing I invented just now:


* How many post-‘s do I need if I say I’m the kind of feminist who really likes Maxim?

(OK, so if the les-bi-rifficness is all too much for you, I made a very cute mommy blog post at Wabi Sabi Mamas today, and you can listen to my very first podcast there too if you like.)

_________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.

(Yeah, I totally thought it was over, but turns out it’s not yet. So go donate and read the other amazing posts.)

yoni!

One more burst of sexual energy for the Sexography GBBMCMMCGVBVC… whatever campaign :p I spent some of my birthday money on a frame for the new piece, and after the printing costs I’m going to donate what’s left to RAINN. It’s not a lot but it adds up. Throw in a few bucks with me? Mistress Daisy says give til it hurts feels good.

So, yeah. Behold: vagina art! Just like the good old art school days. You should have seen my Grandma trying to be polite about big, messy red Goddess paintings with giant boobs and bulgy vulvas.

::clicky::

The thing with creativity is, once you start that little wheel going, and I refer here in my own WiccaDu way to the chakra, that baby just starts churning of its own momentum.

And, being the rooty deep core of all yumminess that it is, dear and delicious muladhara is the center of both sex and creativity. And I seem to have awoken mine, and so it goes that as the baby naps I create Sacred Pussy Art and am crushed when Bu tells me we will have company tonight. He was so getting laid. Perhaps if he had known he would have declined his Beer, Steak, & Testosterone Night. *shrug*

_________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.

my toy is a top, pun in 10 did

The sexiness is just growing over the cute little mommy blog like rampant ivy or kudzu now. It’s unsettling me- who reads this that I don’t know reads this? But on the tails of that thought: is it really surprising or shocking to read that an adult woman has had sex and masturbates? (And then, how wrong is it that I am more comfortable blogging about serious primitive rage than my own pleasure?)

I know my Grandma doesn’t read it, and I know Souster does. And my souster bought me my beloved retired vibrator, Sprout. He was small and green and simple. If he was solar powered he would have been a crunchy vibe. ZOMG do they make solar ones? If not, someone start marketing this to crunchy ladies right now!

So, my new vibe is named Trinity but is a boy-aura-having machine. First it was called Neo but the three little metal round bits made me realize he is Trinity, although his original gender stays. The thing has a Matrix name because it is called a TechnoVibe and is black with silver and has ten settings. 10! It’s brilliant. Most of the rhythms it has are very, very teasing to an evil extent that caused me to tell Bu that I was being topped by a sex toy.

I learned that if I endow a vibe with a Matrix theme, I should stop shy of telling Bu that if it runs out of batteries we’ll just find a human and stick some energy suction tubes in its spine. Bu was afraid of me. But anyway: using toys with my husband? Genius, genius, genius. Why have we not upgraded to electronic sex before?

Oh hia, Edit. Forgot to put the Sexography info. Quell dumbass. So busy freaking out about participating in the project I forgot to y’know, participate in the project. Right:

_________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.