a trap
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: letter to bruce

The Bush parody? I could only skim through this thing---Dr. Weil's
health plan advises against listening to news. Bad news at least--it
lessens stress.

Just had a skirmish with saja--I started it in front of our friends.
Then everybody left...good. A person can't think with all that noise.

I am going to go to the river--I've only been once without Ashy--and
get a picture of some baby cows for you. Then you could write a
screenplay about giant cows that nuzzle the whole world with their bristly lips
and velvet pink tongues. There's a dog near there that looks like a
fox; it lives with a lazy beagle and two small goats. For real Bruce--its
truly fantastic. You should see it.
So--that settled me down a little.
I hate fighting with saja--I never win--so then I think "why bother"
and then I think "I have to--she's my daughter and she's not holding up
her end of the bargain."

Geez...give me some advice, would you? I have to ask my friend Jules,
who was here, what she thought. She seemed aghast--and rushed to Saja's
aid. So I guess I need to lighten up. Or just send her away for her own
good--if I'm really that bad of a mother...

I don't want to continually play these same games over and over again.
I just switch onto automatic, and everyone feels comfortable, I guess.
The anger fuels them. It exhausts me and makes me weep.

Sometimes a beautiful day is just a trap.

Thanks for listening--love mar

snail
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: snail living
> Hi Bruce--how are you doing these days? I am ok--if
> you don't count the ongoing Saja drama. Yesterday I
> thought she had left with her ne'er do well
> boyfriend for California, but she was in her bed
> this morning and I was so relieved. She said she
> took them as far as Portland.
I took some pics of the snail we got
> to clean the
> fish tank--it was fully unfurled the other day, and
> while it is kind of gross, it is also strangely
> fascinating.
> talk to you soon--mar




Bruce wrote:
"My Dream is of a snail crawling along the edge of ...
a strait razor, and yet living."

-Colonel Kurtz / Apocalypse Now

First Friday Artwalk
Mood:  chatty
Topic: Transgender portraits

Tonight I ventured out to the First Friday Artwalk. Here's how it happened: I was getting some salmon dip at the meat counter at Fred Meyer, and the guy behind the counter asked me how was my day. I told him I had just awakened at 2 pm after 12 hours of sleep, so ask me later...
He said he'd love to have 12 hours of sleep; he was getting three a night. I asked why. He said he was mounting a photography show at Gallery 423; it was photos of transgendered people. Well-- I said that I would continue to let my beard grow, and show up. A glib rationale.
But, as usual, there was so much more to it.
A few months ago I went to a showing of the film Soldier's Girl at CWU. The film is a true life account of a transgendered woman and her lover, a soldier who was murdered in some kind of hate crime. The crux of the motive behind the murder was another soldier's, or two other soldiers', conflicted feelings about their own sexual identities, and the inflicted shame around it.
The woman who lived this experience, Calpernia Addams, came to our campus to talk about the movie. What a lovely, graceful woman--but of course, there was the fascination surrounding her female identity inside of a body that had been born and identified as male. I came home from the movie and set about researching her on the internet, discovering her fascinating website.
http://www.calpernia.com
I am not versed in the vocabulary of this issue, and so I hope I am representing it correctly. Because, in hearing these special people tell about their experiences, I am aware that there are complex sub-strata to the gay, lesbian and transgendered community that take some time to understand. And transgendered people want to bring awareness to their particular group as separate from "gay" issues.
I guess part of my fascination is my own gender identity. I have often been mistaken for a boy and a man throughout my life, although I am born and bred a woman. Being large and physically active as a younger person, I gave up on feminine shoes and clothes, and since it was the seventies, it was easy for me to wear boots and work shirts and old man's wool pants in cold weather. But I also wore a lot of skirts in the hot weather. I have been a feminist all my adult life, and at 53, am more hirsuit than is comfortable. I have been the recipient of tentative and uncertain looks from people uncomfortable because they could not pigeonhole my gender identity. I walked and sat like a man, unapoligetically. But as I explained to one person who identified herself as a lay mental health advocate, I strongly identify with these people who have persevered within conflicting biological and social mandates, found a supportive community, and sorted through their unique and/ or disparate issues.
This woman was one of the subjects of the photo exhibit. She is pictured in her home with one of her birds. These photos are remarkable in many ways. I admired the rich quality of the photos. I observed the surroundings in which each was pictured. I observed the clothing and other trappings that individuals chose for themselves. Many of the transgendered subjects wore very casual clothing and hairstyles; others were glammed to the nines. But central to all this, for me, were the expressions in the eyes; above all, these are people who have made very specific choices about the realization and expression of gender.
So with each word I spoke came an awareness of my naivete': at one moment it was a matter of persona, choice of mannerisms and such, but my new soft-spoken friend explained, and exemplified, an attitude free of gender-identified mannerisms. She was just herself, a person. This was eye-opening to myself, letting me realize how much energy I devote to displaying a socially identifiable or acceptable persona. And so to generalize, it seemed that the transgendered individuals, choosing the trappings of gendered identity, each had a very individual vision of how it was realized.
Now I am getting abstract.
My point is that I came away with new insights and new questions about my own assumptions. I said to one of the photo subjects that these pictures represented Mother Nature's variety, but this woman asserted that what it represented was in fact society and how society dictates identity. As I write, I am mindful that there are more and more layers to this than I could verbalize at this point.
I wish I had listened more, and had felt less the need to put on a mask. Painfully shy for the first half of my life, I have spent far too much time trying to actualize what I conceive to be an acceptable social persona. So perhaps it is this that attracts me to this special group of people.
I came home with the typical self-recrimination that accompanies my social anxiety; did I make a fool of myself again? Was I insnsitive and glib?
How brave I find these beautiful transgendered souls who are finding long-overdo pride about their special and priveledged places in the world. Apparently, shamans in the indiginous populations were often hermaphroditic sorts, people who were endowed with special spiritual insights and gifts. And so it is in this special community. I am very grateful for this experience tonight.
And the snacks were also good.

some dubya humor
Mood:  mischievious

At the river
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: A family of geese
The weather was clear and sunny; it was hot, actually hot. Ashy and I both got in the river. I dunked my hair, but it was too chilly for the head. I sat there awhile in the bright glow of sunlight from everywhere--above me in a blue sky, and at eye level in a rippling, sparkling green river.

A family of geese floated in a little nook in the river. The pair was ever vigilant of it's brood--must have been at least ten fuzzy moss-colored younguns. I hated to think how mny of these would not make it to maturity. But mom and dad will keep them all safe. They were wary of ashy, that he might get over the river to them. Then they nestled into a grassy mound for awhile. Two long necks and beaks ever

periscoping the environs. Bless us one and all, Mother Nature.

Silent vigil for peace
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: vigil for peace
Wednesday I made it to the vigil for peace in front of the post office. About 7 or 8 of us--some coming late and/or leaving early.
One woman drove by us in her blue sedan with the windows rolled up tight against a most lovely spring day. She looked over at us grimacing and shaking her head...no...Now who in the world would have such an adamant reaction to a small group of people standing on the sidewalk advocating peace? Beyond me...
Another man walked by with a smug grin on his face. He said, "I don't think the world is ready for peace." OK--that seems reasonable. Then he says, "why don't you people go over to Iraq and do this...with Osama." Still the grin. Now of course, that is supremely unreasonable. Excuse me sir--Osama does not live in Iraq. It's that simple, sir: Check your facts?! You vote, and you are that ignorant?

But the UPS man gave us a wave going west, and later a thumbs up going east. And a man appeared before me with his hand out. "Fred ________," he said, "Vietnam 1969." And he shook all our hands and thanked us. He said he was going to The U in Seattle that night to a meeting about allowing recruiters on campus. Thank-you for stopping sir.

Mother's Day
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: humanity
Happy Mother's Day to you...
....and to all those Mother's nearby you.
love, A (one who has been birthed, previously)

meow zora wrote:
Thanks A--
I thought of you today. I was out at the suspension bridge at Uptaneum for the Shrub-Steppe event. I bravely ventured out amidst the people...
I took Ashy on the lead, and he was good. Then I brought him all the way back to the car and...fatal mistake...took the lead off him BEFORE he got in the car. He took off, running straight to the river under the bridge.
Well, all the peoples and their little kinder were there, and a flood of them came pouring over the bridge, because ashy had swum across and was doing his stick thing. I tried to go across the bridge. I asked a few passerby if they could help me, but the people just passed by me and stared at me. I took two steps...vertigo. I turned back to look at a woman who was kind, and burst into tears. I was so frustrated. But she said, here, give me the rope; I will get him for you. So I sat on the rail crying my eyes out.
One of the women I asked for help looked at her watch, saying," I don't have time; we have to go to basketball now. But I feel sorry for you." And I said, "I feel sorry for you." At her quizzical look I added, "because you won't help." A bunch of people stood around looking at me while I cried, but no one came up to me or said anything. Then the nice woman brought ashy across the bridge. I don't know if you remember, but ashy doesn't like the suspension bridge either, so he came very slowly, trembling and straddling the planks.
. I told the nice woman about the time Ashy went running in town and Red Elk met up with him at the Seven Eleven. Red Elk told me he asked Ashy if he wanted to go on an adventure, and Ashy answered "yes." So then Red Elk asked Ashy his name, and Ashy answered. "Blackjack, Roger Blackjack." So now, when Ashy is in river mode, we just call him Roger Blackjack. The kind lady laughed. I wiped my tears and left, humiliated.
All of this is true. Thanks for hearing my story.
thank-you for remembering me on mother's day. Love, Mar
greetings to Roger Blackjack and Family....
....once I was sitting in an Anthropology Lab studying genetics,,,but I was confused and frustrated with the material. The instructor mocked me openly and I began to tear up.
I was turned off from the material by this incident.
Nevertheless, it's an interesting memory.
...happy spring and good job wading out into the sea of humanity, regardless of the adventures of Roger Blackjack!!!
-A

that's it
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: now what?
Um... third entry and...um...well...I'm out of material. Oh well.
Actually, I have many topics I could rant and rave about, but it's late, and I hate to ruin a relatively smoothly-flowing day. So--peace on earth and goodwill toward men--I'm talkin' to you, Dubya!!

Hemp
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: industrial hemp
I have strong feelings about hemp! Why? Because US laws are antiquated and blind when it comes to separating industrial (non-stoning) hemp from marijuana containing enough chemicals to get someone stoned.
I am a crafter. I made some hemp necklaces, and listed them on ebay today. While at ebay, I found more than 450 such necklaces for sale!
I found this little blurb about the benefits of using industrial hemp, and want to share it.

Hemp Facts Everyone Should Know


Hemp has been around for thousands of years. The U.S. Constitution, the Bill of Rights and many laws were written on hemp paper. The first pair of 501 jeans and the first U.S. flag were made from hemp.

Hemp is considered by many to be the world's most versatile and valuable resource. It provides the raw material for more products (over 50,000) than any other plant. The stems are used to produce fabric, fuel, paper and other commercial products.

The hemp seed is used to produce nutritional oils, lubricants and fuels. Hemp seeds are also an excellent source of protein.

Hemp foliage has also been promoted for its medicinal value in easing pain, relieving stress and treating illnesses from glaucoma to nausea in AIDS and cancer patients. Hemp roots even play an important role by anchoring and invigorating the soil, providing erosion control and preventing mud slides.

Hemp is the only plant that grows up to 20 feet throughout the United States. One acre of hemp can replace five acres of cotton used for material; over 50% of the pesticides applied in the U.S. are used on cotton crops less than 3% kills the insects, the rest goes into the ground water (what a concept!) Hemps abundant yeild can add over a trillion dollars to the U.S. economy and assure us prosperity, plenty and economic stability. These facts are substantial and make the argument for legalization of the hemp industry in the United States... a critical one. Just think, if we grow enough hemp and save enough trees, global warming could be a thing of the past, not to mention the national debt. Hemp can save the planet!

Bun Yom's Book: My Story
Mood:  blue

I made a page for Bun's book today at angelfire--
Bun's Story
--we wanna get some books out there to the people!! I emailed Oprah's website in the hope that they might be interested in Bun's incredible story.
My mom says that Oprah has gotten "uppity", a term I don't really appreciate in that context, except that it's true--she is just too damn rich and uptown to relate to ordinary people. All the same, we will keep trying to reach her because it is Bun's dream.