Born At Age 40.

 

Luna Dulcinea Photography 2017

If I were to be locked up for at least three months, I’d like to read the autobiographies of Sonia Sotomayor, Angela Davis, and Condoleeza Rice, then, A Farewell To Arms, the works of Heidegger regarding being-in-the-world in a technological age, and the Baghavad-Gita. That’d help construct a conceptual framework towards crafting an idea. I don’t want to say ideology, because that assumes I am interested in the delivery and execution of said idea. No. Just for now, I’d like to craft a well though out idea.

In a confined space, in the time between the “mandatories” – wash, medications, meals, exercise – I could dedicate my mind to deep thought. Deep thought is hard to do when you’re able to move, because you want to avail yourself to any activity that doesn’t restrict your freedoms. Confinement is alluring in that, knowing that you cannot entertain liberties, you are tasked to attend to the “urgencies,” the struggles of everyday society and politic.

We’re so feverish with mundane engagements, we gloss over the burgeoning disparities which contain our shared oppressions. Due to collective cognitive dissonance, it is easy to forget, even deny, that there is a pulsating monster living within our midsts. We are one/ but we’re not the same, as Bono sings. Should we continue to punish each other for lack of sameness (which is not equality)? Why do we adhere steadfastly to the cubbyholes of which desperate societies of the past have built? Why should we fortify past pains and sufferings as opposed to fortifying past achievements and successes? Could we not be more solution-oriented when talking about past horrors? When does the who-had-it-worse pissing contest officially end? We’re out of pee and yet, the contest continues.

As I contribute information on gender identity and cultural sensitivity for the next NAMI guide, I realize I do not have the lived experience of someone who identifies beyond static gender and sex assignments. This makes me revisit my knowledge of sex and gender assignments. I realize that these are particular cubbyholes which I’ve gotten accustomed to, even steadfastly adhere to. As someone who presents herself as open-minded and socially engaged, I’m kinda embarrassed for myself right now. I’ve gone through the exasperations of both gender and sexual identity, and it is indeed that, an exhaustion. To prove what, exactly? That I have a sexual identity? That I have a gender preference? Do I really need to secure such labels at this point in my life? I’d like to think not, but gender and sex assignment are feverish topics that the overarching society rabidly kicks about. I’d like to think in my human development I have accomplished an important thing and that is, I am a sexual person. Anything beyond that seems like fluff. Why? The satisfaction of my genitals and the method of delivery of such satisfaction are irrelevant to the overarching struggle.

As Johnny Saucedo puts it, “What does my fuck game have to do with anything?”

Luna Dulcinea Photography 2017


In my final act of suffering before Contentment, I am destined to live out my life as a petite, intelligent, woman born into a servant class. However, I can relate to the “male experience” because I have lived many roles which are typically designated male in our society – car mechanic, household provider, security guard, and others. I can’t deny my masculinity; however, I am genetically capable of producing offspring, a role designated to those assigned female of our species. Have I generated spawn? No. Have I engaged in activity that could merit procreation? Sure. Have I the want to be a mother? Not at all. So, if I only acknowledge my biology, and not my heritage in the omniversal sense, then I can successfully acknowledge that my gender assignment matches my biological propensities.
Does this make me a female? Societally, yes. Does this make me a woman? Well, I don’t know. My gender expression parallels my social engagement. For example, If I’m with the testosterone-dominant, I freely curse and talk about hard-ons, not only because it’s fun, but because it makes sense in that environment. I don’t feel compelled to emphasize the social meaning of my female form. Again, the stimulation of my genitals is irrelevant, in terms of the overarching struggle.

Luna Dulcinea Photography 2017


When I’m around the estrogen-dominant, I get a sense of camaraderie. My shoulders lower. Only because I feel more accepted by women. My entire lifetime, I’ve been intimately rejected by the testosterone-dominant, largely trying to deny me the “female experience,” which I acknowledge I enjoy. Thus, I find comfort in my sisters moreso than my brothers. It is a bitter pill to swallow, but I assure you, I’m working on tolerance.

As much as I try to neutralize the need to declare a -ness or -hood, people are simply too attached to the -ness or -hood. I’m not an -ist, or up to celebrating a -ness, or interested in promoting a -hood. Too may portholes to have to look through just to admire the same water! These types of conversations are beneath me, and way too often than not, it is people who tattoo their identities to their reproductive organs who force me to mute my intuition. The declaration of -ist, -ness or -hood allows the easily persuadable to exert the one other inherited trait of all biological species on this planet. I’m talking of course about the need for power.

While we are the most sophisticated as far as intelligent rigging, we certainly are feral when it comes to associations. In a social setting where the priority is to be about something, the best we could accomplish as a species so far is asserting our dominion over the whole Earth biome. Where do you go when you’ve reached the apex of the mountain? Start over? Decimate all, start clean? Shall we grow intellectually, as to be able to achieve all the visions we have, played out in science fiction cinema and books? Can we make our technological dreams a reality, or is the war over gender purposefulness – purposing? – so damn important that we place our intellectual development on hold? Why encourage a dialogue of global community enhancements when someone giving birth to octuplets can dominate the world discussion? I can’t say how many times I’ve yelled out, who the fuck cares?? after reading an article on the inane behavior of a cubbyhole celebrator! These cubbyholes, these socially-cast definitions and/or assignments, we wear like an iron mask. We find comfort in the ability to communally suffer in the pattern of, who-had-it-worse.

Oh, how celebratory it would be, to live knowing that one’s unique experience with genitals has nothing to do with the meaning of being ALIVE. I’d like to think we have sophisticated enough to crack out of the cubbyholes and enmesh ourselves in the spherical, pulsating, hexagonal field of light which welcomes species advancement. I’d like to think that, but then the image of people grasping their genitals floods my vision of the future. Let go of this need for genital stimulation and instead, launch ourselves in the direction of contentment. Sophisticate ourselves in a manner that goes against biological constructs? – gasp!

Luna Dulcinea Photography 2017


I can’t dedicate myself to protecting your cubbyhole. What I can commit to is a solution-oriented, transcendental purposing towards advancing humankind into the next natural stage of intelligent development by joining our relatives and neighbors operating at that level of sophistication. Leave the bleeps and blorps concept behind, and leap forward into our technological destiny: an existence worthy of our cosmic heritage, learned by our time-space delivery of achievements, bound to the concept of wholeness. I worry about calling this “divinity” because of its many contexts, but it is the best word for that which serves all intelligent forms of life. So if I run around extolling the virtues of “embracing your divinity,” I would, without a doubt, stimulate the fortification of existing cubbyholes. Instead, I shall exert, “You are greater than what you allow yourself to be.” IF you can’t take charge of that, if you can’t own that knowing, then I don’t know how else to serve except empathize with your unique lived experience. I can’t grab my vagina, I can’t devote myself to rituals, and I certainly cannot climb down this ladder to stop and wipe frightened noses. I’m not designed to go backward on the time-space continuum and I’m out of breath for apologizing for it! These insights amalgamated over decades of living in the Miseries, the rigid grid of cubbyholes, taking up precious space, like a wall full of inboxes which only get filled, never checked.

I suppose I’ve been struggling with defining a purpose, but I’m just only now sorting out that I have many purposes yet only one opportunity. That opportunity is ascension. Not in the Biblical context at all, but the natural process of intellectual development and acculturation in its most benevolent sense. I can be purposeful towards Ascension.

My other purposings are merely to satisfy my life expectancy. Other than committing suicide (which I’ve proved three times already I’m bad at) I could simply fill in the gaps between cubbyholes within the context of unity. Peacefully discharge my learned behaviors and social conditioning in a manner that encourages the concept of Ascension as a purposeful reality instead of its dark thick glass bottle called Hope.

I have faith that our particular biome will naturally progress in this manner. I am saddened that I won’t experience it in this lifetime, but gladdened I have actualized this as my truth before the tender marking of Time at 40. May we all be so lucky as to believe in Contentment.

P.S. Please add to my book list The Stranger by Albert Camus and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Thank you.

                • IMES
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Sisters Delphi

Sisters Delphi round their backs at the table

called here time and again in seasons of woe

Clarity their mastery, despite clouded eyes.

Here we seat again

A time of great despair and ruin

Not since the fall of Rome in the hands of Nero have we witnessed such disgrace!

My third eye weeps at the pools of Red

of Fire

bubbling at the mouth of Plato’s Cave.

The three-headed dog sounds a growl to

Brigid, Hecate and Persephone.

“Sisters, sisters!” they chirp

as they rush about the barque:

“The Skeleton Woman

RIses!

“Who will bear her weight?”

Ella se dice:

Dame los huezos.

Kali joins Ix Chel on the collection.

Temple doors shatter against Black Obsidian.

3.29.17..4.9.17

 

 

2017: Unleash The Warrior

When Maeve shows up in your spread, you freakin’ pay attention! From The Goddess Oracle Deck, curated by Amy Sophia Marashinsky and illustrated by Hrana Janto, here’s a poem featured for the goddess Queen. Take heed warriors:

I am a Warrioress

a Warrioress of the Heart

I am Queen

of the domain of myself

I am able to respond

in all situations

from the knowledge of who I am

My actions are who I am

My beliefs are who I am

All I do is who I am

That which is outside of me

stays outside of me

That which I choose to let in

I own and acknowledge

How can you be responsible

if you do not own all aspects of yourself?

How can you be accountable

without being Queen over your own domain?

How can you serve your consort, your children, your community

if you are unwilling to acknowledge and answer for yourself?

 

The Living Goddess Exhibit (Video)

Thank you to everyone who supported this personal, transcendental endeavor of mine. The show was a hit! We wanted everyone to experience the magic of the Goddesses, so here’s a full YouTube link of the show, filmed entirely on smartphone. Like and share with everyone you love.

Broadcasting the Divine Feminine in Sarasota

I was four years old, standing onstage with my dance mates at the Fort Hood Family Recreation Center, wearing a white frilly top with red satin inlay and matching red velour skirt. White opaque tights and shiny patent leather Mary Janes completed my outfit. My hair, curls freshly unfurled from pink sponge curlers, served as a mane. Mom had painted whiskers across my cheeks. While the costume was more holiday, the performance was animal. I was cast as a lion amongst lambs in a story about Jesus Christ’s birth. My dance was simple – a crouched position, a turn to the left, a turn to the right, then a full circle. Repeat. It was my first stage performance. After the applause and raising of the house lights, I knew it wouldn’t be my last.

Flash forward to the eve of 40. I sit across from show director Luke Rosebaro in the WSRQ Sarasota talk radio station at microphone #4. Andy Garrett sits to my left, and Frances Roberts-Reilly sits to my right. The three of us are promoting The Living Goddess Exhibit, a production I developed early 2016 that was showcased on November 11th. For Luke and his listening audience, we share poems featured in the exhibit as well as other sacred creations.

This was my first radio performance, and I delighted to share at a microphone that wasn’t propped on a stand on a stage in front of a live audience. Although I faced Luke, I knew my purpose for being there was to reach out to the listening audience – what message do I want to convey? All our poems were formed around the Dark Goddess in our daily living. What does she have to say?

To invoke goddess energy into my delivery, I took my favorite scarf – a gray sheer fabric adorned with black skulls – and draped it over my head and shoulders. Immediately I felt a tingle in the crown of my head, more to the right side. A sensation like an electrical current flowing between two points repeated across the area. I was tuned in.

Photos: Frances Roberts-Reilly

From my collection, I offered ArcAngel, Lady of Blazing Dominion, and Reed-Girl. The beautiful poetess Nidia Del Mar, who embodied Kali for The Living Goddess Exhibit, let me perform her two poems from the show. The Dark Goddess infused me, allowing the words to flow with a lion’s strength and a warrior’s passion.

I felt good sharing with Luke and his audience. I felt empowered, able to perform without the ego getting in the way. After a successful day sharing our art, we touched a bit on opportunities in the region before heading to Simon’s Coffee House for lunch. Our contributions will be aired on Saturday, December 24th and will be available online here.

Our visit to WSRQ was an opportunity to promote POP! The Poet Outreach Program I began to develop this year. The purpose of POP is to bring together artists of all styles, all levels of experience, to collaborate on unique projects and deliver community events across Tampa Bay. This grass-roots level approach embraces literary arts as a catalyst towards increased creativity in communities were artistic exposure may be lacking. Since we were in Sarasota I encouraged the listening audience to consider supporting POP! locally, and to contact our organization for networking opportunities across the Skyway Bridge.

Andy, Frances, and the rest of The Living Goddess Exhibit cast are eager to reprise our show on a local stage or setting in 2017. We hope our visit to WSRQ will stoke interest and draw supporters. Currently, we’re in need of funding to cover exhibit costs. Your generous, tax deductible donations to POP! can be made via PayPal to vsenterprisesfl@gmail.com.

The Monday After

I took the flower bouquets I received Friday night and consolidated them into one mongo bouquet on the kitchen island. The vase it rests in is the same one from the exhibit, a gift from lady Brigid, the Bringer of Light. I wanted to depict onstage a woman’s womb and its power to birth beauty, thus the addition of the bouquet to the dais. Real flowers this time in the vase; they make me smile widely.

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Gifts from a successful evening, a plethora of flowers and a nice bottle of merlot

It is a strange morning. What had consumed my time, energy and effort these past few months is done, gone. I woke up thinking, what to do now? I took the healthy route and scaled down my interests just so I could concentrate fully on developing this creative piece. In doing so, I freed myself of unnecessary worry. But it’s done now, and I feel a bit…naked.

Let’s reflect on the exhibit itself. By the time I had horns on my head, I was ready to go. I had complete faith in each performer, on the attending crowd, and the spiritual energy in the theater. I smiled big the whole night. When I performed, I gave myself to the stage. I honestly can’t recall doing my poetic recitations, but I know they happened. I remember looking into the crowd, finding the faces of my friends. I remember feeling the heat of the lamps pointed center stage. I remember feeling empowered, thinking, “I am good at this!” as I laughed into my next recitation. I gave myself lines and not one, but two sets of poems to recite. I did not mess up. I am proud of me!

The first poem I recited is an actual poem written by Enheduanna, the high priestess of Ur and first poet of recorded history. It’s actually the invocation portion of an epic poem, Inanna and Ebih, In-Nin-Me-Huš-A, which means “Lady of Blazing Dominion.” You know what I use as a mnemonic? Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory.” I play the chorus in my head, then I launch into the whole poem.

The second poem is an original I wrote earlier this year. It’s a poem about self-discovery and taking chances. It was a story I wanted to tell about me in the search for footing in a 21st century world. I figured it fit with the story of Enheduanna’s difficulty in pleasing the world, leaving her unfulfilled. Until the goddesses hear her desperation, Enheduanna suffers the part. This is so common, especially with modern women. We sit there and stew in our troubles instead of reaching out. Yours truly is a culprit of this activity. Thus, I turn around and encourage the high priestess to reach beyond and find her potential amongst the cosmos. If you can’t find inspiration in this world, be inspired by the worlds beyond.

Today I feel like I released a bird to the sky letting it fly and be part of nature. The exhibit belongs to the artistic ethos now, out of my hands, existing as its own pulsating thing. Today I should allow myself to breathe. Friday was a fantastic night. Today should be a quiet day.

 

Empowered By The Goddesses

Last night can’t be undone.

Magic happened to this scraping-by artist. Months of anxious planning and preparation, interrupted by life and health events, and here it was: my poetry exhibit. Performed beautifully by goddesses of their own caliber, embodying influential archetypes much needed in this post-election week. We gathered to share, we’re not scared. When challenged we have the greatest weapon – our divine sisterhood.

I hand picked artists of diverse creative influences with one common thread: a genuine respect for the power of goddess energy. Allowing them the freedom to choose their artistic interpretation made the project a communal experience. Everyone provided me input as to how they envisioned their deity within the story, based on the loose script I had provided. By the time I met with each woman, got to know her at her craft and on a personal level, and scripted her part, I had the complete story. Using a community-oriented approach to playwriting was a great experience.

And then, showtime. I was not nervous at all. My faith was so strong in these actors I knew I had nothing to worry about. Healthwise, my body had reacted well to new medication, so I didn’t have to concern myself with erratic movement or confusion. Mind, body and soul clear, I took to the stage like I take to my bed at night; cozily and comfortably! You know what? I felt redeemed. After a shitty Wednesday morning feeling tense and scared about my future, I have this moment of success that can’t be taken away. I achieved this, in America, as a disabled person, as a woman of color.  It took incredible fortitude to get here, and I championed that. I’ve arrived at the station I’m meant to visit.

My art has elevated my mood once again. I’m wrapped in the embrace of creativity, considering how to replicate the show for a wider audience. Or, shall I write another performance poetry exhibit? I love mashing music and poetry together, maybe a joint exhibit with live musicians, like how we incorporated a drummer into Pomba Gira’s performance? Wait, wait…let’s bask in the glow of success that was last night. We can do all of that battle planning later, Inanna 😉

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Me dressed as the warrior goddess Inanna
The Show:
 

Last night, the beautiful high priestess Enheduanna, troubled by her Moon Temple followers, found relief in the love, compassion, and commitment of her beloved goddesses. First, Persephone, Maiden of the Underworld, arrived as soon as Enheduanna begged for Death. She brought forward the Matron of the Crossroads, Pomba Gira, who offered the high priestess quite a wake-up call! Upon Pomba Gira’s departure, the Bringer of Light, Brigid, softly stepped into the high priestess’ chamber and blessed it with a light-welcoming poem. 

 
She brought forward Hecate, Great Crone, to call the powers of the four directions to Enheduanna. Her poetry reminds us of her all-knowing power. Relieved, Enheduanna takes a moment to relax, but is quickly interrupted by the powerful Kali, Governess of Time. The intimidating mother reminds the high priestess of her natural divinity and urges her to use it. Glamoured into a sleep state, the goddess Ix Chel visits Enheduanna’s dream. Her poem forecasts necessary change from disillusionment. 
 
When Enheduanna wakes, she is reverent, washed over in love and appreciation. To enhance those wonderful feelings, Yemoya emerges from the water to the high priestess, and they share a dance of divine feminine love. Finally, Enheduanna is entreated to the presence of her personal goddess, Inanna, who shares knowledge of the high priestess’ own written words. Inanna passes on her pure lance to the worthy high priestess, then sends her back to the moon ceremony with a poem of spiritual encouragement.

 

A Creative Place

Here we are, the first week of November. It’s still in the 80s here in Florida, with a tease of a cold front moving in this weekend. The Living Goddess Exhibit is turning into an exquisite piece of art, thanks to the collaborative effort of all artists involved. I’m really proud of this event, and proud of myself for sticking to it, as I was challenged by a medicine change a few weeks back.

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Check out the curls! Hanging out at The Complete Sweet Shoppe on a lovely Friday afternoon

It is quite a challenge to stay in an artistic flow when you’re experiencing every drug-related side effect indicated. I’m sensitive that way, didn’t realize how much until this recent run through. But I fought through, head butting through the collapses and the shakes and the confusion. I fixed my face and attitude so that I can have successful interactions with those involved in the exhibit. I continue to be nervous, more for the closeness of the performance date than the side effects.

What I’m most appreciative of is the quality of support I’ve received from my inner circle, growing greater as I venture out artistically. Sometimes I just need to curl into a ball on a friend’s couch for a few minutes, just to get aligned, grounded. Then I burst back into creativity, going through the logistics of the show, or working on the details of my props. It feels good to be genuinely nurtured through the process.

The show hasn’t commenced yet but I’m already thinking about after the fact. Where are my energies going to be directed? What is my focus for the next few months? Earlier in October I ventured out into a project that I realized was bigger than I can handle, and it left me in a depressive state, realizing my limitations. But I’m a try-er, and I can at least pride myself in giving it a go. That’s the artist life. Some things stick, some things slide through. I’ve gotten over the discouragement.

My hope is that the Living Goddess Exhibit goes without a hitch. I’ve got wonderful artists involved, full of positivity and talent, so there’s no denying things are gonna work out. Afterwards, I’ll allow myself a little break so that I can healthfully pursue my next project.

That’s my check in. Have a wonderful weekend!

 

The Living Goddess Exhibit

It’s here! The magic of goddess energy comes to life November 11th in the lovely city of Gulfport. Come see Persephone, Pomba Gira, Brigid, Hecate, Kali, Ix Chel, and Inanna amuse the crowd with their vivacity! $6 at the door. Exhibit begins at 8pm.

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It’s Dress Up Time!

inanna
Source: deviantart

Busy, busy, like a queen honeybee, pumping out ideas, designs, and information with little breaks in between to breathe. Ask for help will I? Why? Everything’s under control, yep…everything is errythang.

Whew. Who am I kidding??

These last two years, I had been producing works for publication and sale. After joining the band, I was compelled back into performance art. So, getting my Vaclav Havel on, I’ve designed an exhibit of empowered, proactive women sharing words of wisdom in the form of goddesses. Fun, right? The exhibit came from a place of concern, that pit in the gut where you feel something needs to be expressed, something especially important for humankind. This is what Art does for us, yes? Get those expressions out into the open.

I wanted to express my disappointment in humanity, specifically, in the way women refuse to support each other when it comes to social cues and laws defining our roles in society. But I didn’t want to be a nag about it either. Instead, I took a comic view. What is it that women typically deal with that we can all agree we deserve a break from? And so, I’ve developed The Living Goddess Exhibit.

The girls are here to tell it like it is.

Me, I’m going to perform as Inanna, my all-time favorite deity. I’ve blogged about her too many times to not support my obsession. Inanna is perfect! If I lived in the time of her worship, I would be her best high priestess. Why? She does what I do all the time: explore people’s dualities. I *love* to exploit either-or people (in a gentle way) in order to get them to see the world’s challenges as not which team one prefers but rather, what the global community could embrace if they considered both options. It’s easy to follow the herd, but ultimately, someone needs to shepherd. Inanna is that deity.

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Inanna, Goddess of Love and War

More details on the exhibit to come, but know this: I am in a place of deep creativity and also of calm. Things are moving at tornado speed around me but the inner cone is silent. I’m glad I’ve gotten to a point in life where I can manage the outer and inner worlds as a whole. Wish me luck in these next coming weeks!