Archive for March, 2008
… that Sinclair is single again, and dating. Spring is hovering just around the corner, and New York as a whole can feel it. The girls are already pulling out their swishy skirts, bouncy hair, strappy sandals. I notice. Man, do I notice. I try not to stare.
All that cliche shit is true about spring – fertility, rebirth, lust. The newness of those baby-green leaves are raw and luscious enough that sometimes I just want to bite them right off the tree. Destroy them with my mouth. Mmm.
At the last minute, I’m going to the Body Electric workshop that starts tomorrow (in fact, I need to leave in about four hours). I have some very particular intentions going into it, especially about the things that I’m holding on to. I want to let go. Leave it all be. Wipe the slate clean. (Et cetera, et cetera, ad infinitum.) I want to decline politely to the world’s human messes, to learn to say ‘no, thank you.’
My other intention is to bring the masculine butch boyishness again. It was a huge revelation for me last time, especially in a womyn-goddess-yoni kind of sacred sexuality space. But I learned so much. I need to take that with me again.
This is brief, I know; unfortunately, my schedule is only looking to be more packed in the near future. I will do my best to keep updating. Meanwhile, got any more butch eye candy to send me? I’m nearly out. C’mon, you/your girlfriend/your wife/your best friend/your lover/your favorite crush wants to be some Sugarbutch eye candy, I know you do.
Regular Sugarbutch writings will resume on Monday.
I saw a girl on the subway this morning so beautiful that I have considered writing a Missed Connections ad on Craigslist:
Red bag, paper cup of coffee, black tank-top, silver necklace, boots with two rows of big buttons marching up the front. Tossing your slightly feathered hair, talking to your friend, then when she got off, you pulled out your compact and began applying face powder, lipgloss. It was such an intimate act, and something about it felt so familiar, like I could see you at your mirror in the morning, getting ready for the day, me pulling my tie through the knot, slipping on my jacket, sipping coffee, pretending to read the paper, legs crossed, at the kitchen table, when really I’m watching you in the reflection of the mirror in the hallway while you’re in the bathroom. And, though perhaps I don’t want to admit it, I felt a little crackle in my chest when I watched you.
Probably it was just my being half-asleep on my commute that gave more meaning to this girl than I would otherwise attach. But this is not the first time this has happened to me lately – I see sudden, recognizable familiarity in a femme and think, maybe that’s her.
I’ve been sleeping awfully this week. Every night, I’m having restless dreams, vivid and sometimes lucid, often full of imagery and messages.
Tuesday night, I dreamt I was stuck in my family’s crypt, a small mosoleum of some sort, which was above ground, walls covered in stained-glass colored mosaic windows. I couldn’t leave this crypt, though there seemed to be some sorts of tours going on, with people in small groups of twos and threes coming in and out. Some of my family was there, my maternal grandmother and her mother, I specifically remember – and things somehow began to turn horrific, and the crypt tourists were zombies, or dripping blood, or other horrible things. I had some sort of perch in a corner, somehow removed, they couldn’t see me, but I was terrified.
I woke myself up at this point, and lulled myself back to sleep only to re-enter right into the same dream, the same crypt. This time, my mother was there, talking to me through the gated door, saying that it was my responsibility, my job, to stay there, that I inhereted this, that it was passed down through generations and all culminated in me.
I awoke feeling that I had remembered something, rather than dreamed something.
Two personal asides: in my astrological chart, I have many planets – Venus, Mars, and Mercury – in the 12th house, and also in the sign of Pisces, which is the 12th house’s natural ruler. The 12th house is often spoken of as the unconscious, and also baggage. In fact, it’s specifically related to family in many ways:
The 12th house may also likely have connections with “family life issues” or “gifts” that our parents (and perhaps our parents’ parents) were given… but they refused or were emotionally unable to give expression to and/or resolve these “family life issues” during their own lifetime. And now it’s been left up to the child (you) to experience and resolve these energies for the parents. (source)
Second aside: I am the fourth generation of first-born daughters. My mother, her mother, and her mother were all the eldest child in their families, and there’s actually a word for that (which I can’t remember or find) and some sort of significance of, again, inheritance.
I spoke with a friend the other day about this, and she said, “The thing is, you don’t have to “inherit” it. You can politely decline the ancestral karmic stuff. It’s not your baggage. You can honor it and honor your ancestors, but it doesn’t have to define your life now. You don’t have to live in a tomb of their making.”
Right. If only I could remember that lesson – and, clearly, it is a big one for me. I don’t have to take on everything from everyone, I don’t have to save the world.
I do, however, have to save myself.
That’s my kind of afternoon: a cigar & bourbon. Love it.
- Libertine – Libertine has come to mean one devoid of any restraints, especially one who ignores or even spurns religious norms, accepted morals, and forms of behaviour sanctioned by the larger society. The philosophy gained new-found adherents in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, particularly in France and Britain. Notable among these were John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, the Marquis de Sade, and Aleister Crowley. “Libertine”, like many words, is an evolving one, defined today as “a dissolute person; usually a person who is morally unrestrained”. In modern times, libertinism has been associated with sado-masochism, nihilism, and free love.
- Rake – A rake is defined as a man habituated to immoral conduct. Rakes are frequently stock characters in novels. Often a rake is a man who wastes his (usually inherited) fortune on wine, women and song, incurring lavish debts in the process. The rake is also frequently a cad: a man who seduces a young woman and impregnates her before leaving, often to her social or financial ruin. To call the character a rake calls attention to his promiscuity and wild spending of money; to call the character a cad implies a callous seducer who coldly breaks his victim’s heart. These men are also known as heels. A bounder is an ‘ill-bred, unscrupulous man’, the social inferior of the cad.
- Chivalry – Chivalry is a term related to the medieval institution of knighthood. It is usually associated with ideals of knightly virtues, honor and courtly love. The word is derived from the French word chevalier, indicating one who rides a horse (Fr. cheval). Today, the terms chivalry and chivalrous are used to describe courteous behavior, especially that of men towards women.
- Lothario - a character in Nicholas Rowe’s 1703 play The Fair Penitent. He seduces and betrays the female lead. The name has come to mean any handsome seducer, generally male.
- Don Juan (or Don Giovanni) is a legendary fictional libertine, whose story has been told many times by different authors. Don Juan is an unrepentant womanizer who seduces women either by disguising himself as their lovers or by promising marriage. He leaves a trail of broken hearts, angry husbands, and outraged fathers.In the legend, Don Juan is a roguish libertine who takes great pleasure in seducing women and (in most versions) enjoys fighting their champions. The main force of the legend revolves around his either raping or seducing a young woman of noble family, and killing her father. Later, he encounters a statue of the father in a cemetery and impiously invites it home to dine with him, an invitation the statue gladly accepts. The ghost of the father arrives for dinner and in turn invites Don Juan to dine with him in the cemetery. Don Juan accepts and goes to the grave where the statue asks to shake Don Juan’s hand. When he extends his arm, the statue grabs him and drags him away to Hell.
- Casanova – So famous a womanizer was the Italian-born libertine Giacomo Casanova that, a full two centuries after his death, his name remains synonymous with the art of seduction. Still called “the world’s greatest lover.” In 1740 Casanova was back in Venice where he started his clerical law career in the church as an abbé. By now he had become something of a dandy — tall and dark, his long hair powdered, scented, and elaborately curled. He quickly ingratiated himself (something he was to do all his life) with a 76-year old Venetian senator, Alvise Gasparo Malipiero, the owner of Palazzo Malipiero. Malipiero moved in the best circles and taught young Casanova a great deal about good food and wine and how to behave in society. He never spent much time on his church career, due to his restless nature and preoccupation with sex.Judith Summers’ biography of Casanova paints a different picture of him than the traditional one. She describes how he was attracted to strong minded women who presented him with an intellectual as well as a romantic challenge. He did not pursue sex for its own sake and if he had nothing to say to a woman, rarely wanted to sleep with her. She also puts forward the theory that among his 200 plus lovers were many women who took advantage of his kindness, generosity, and vulnerability.
- Sinclair Sexsmith – ???
You asked for it: The Closet Musician has a new name, and is now writing over at just like jesse james.
After the hoopla about the angry, anonymous girl, jesse james’s response, and running into a particularly nasty post on Dooce which examined a bunch of hate mail, jesse james takes on the anonymous hate that gets spewed on the internet and poses her own theories and ideas about it all.
jesse james is one of my dearest & best friends … I’m trying to encourage her, so she’ll keep writing. Just wait until she gets going about the queer community, her own faggy boi gender, her international long-distance relationship turned LTR, wanting a puppy, her own (distant past) slut phase, gardening, or her deep appreciation for Cher.
The video for “I stole your wishes” features Abby and Amanda, the lesbian couple who make up the Ditty Bops – and I’ve never seen Amanda looking more butch! She’s sporting a tux here, with Abby in a sweet white dress. I usually would put them in the lesbian twins category as far as gender goes, they tend to be quite similarly dressed.
I don’t have the new album Summer Rains yet, but I hear the album packaging is fantastic, and features Amanda – nude – in the lyrics book. That might entice us to actually go out and buy it, instead of downloading, eh?
I love heels. Stilettos, kitten heels, boots, even wedge heels. I love how they enhance the S-shape of a woman’s body.
Growing up in a feminist household, it was ingrained in me early on that high heels are bad for women’s feet and hips, that they cause shinsplints and hip problems and weak knees and all sorts of things. It took me a long time to come to my own acceptance of liking high heels on femmes … even having a bit of a strappy sandal fetish, I might say.
Diana Cage and I were talking last night on her radio show about my turn-ons, and I mentioned heels, though not without the caveat of the feminist knowledge of how damaging they can be to a woman’s body.
But, Diana told me about a recent study where wearing high heels actually improves the muscles on a woman’s pelvic floor, thus making her, you know, tighter.
I looked it up. From the BBC – High heels “may improve sex life”: An Italian urologist and “lover of the sexy shoe” did a recent study which showed that women who wore a 2″ heel or higher had as good posture as those who wore flat shoes, and also showed “less electrical activity” in their pelvic muscles, which are not just useful in the organs of the body (like the bladder) but also in increased sexual satisfaction and performance. “This suggested the muscles were at an optimum position, which could well improve their strength and ability to contract. The pelvic floor muscles are an essential component of the female body.”
Probably most of us have heard of PC muscle exercises, “Kegels,” as they’re called, to strengthen the pelvic floor – same idea. It makes sense that heels would improve these muscles, when I think about it … and I think it’s another subconscious way that heels sexualize a woman’s body.
This also reminds me of an exercise we did in the Body Electric Celebrating the Body Erotic workshop last fall, the mulabhanda pelvic lock, or root lock, in which you keep your pelvic muscles tightened and breathe in a particular pattern. It was surprisingly difficult and incredibly hot.
I’m sure it’s still possible to damage your body by wearing heels constantly, this can’t undo all the other potential damage. But I’m also glad to know that there is some physical good that comes from wearing heels.
… and Ivan E. Coyote does too.
From ivanecoyote.com: Ivan Coyote was born and raised in Whitehorse Yukon and is the son of a welder and the daughter of a government worker. Ivan is the author of three collections of short stories, a monthly columnist for Xtra West, and a CBC lovechild. Ivan’s work has also appeared in the National Post, the Georgia Straight, Geist, Shared Vision, Nerve, and Curve Magazines. Ivan’s first and truest love is live storytelling, and over the last ten years she has become an audience favourite at music, poetry, spoken word and writer’s festivals from Anchorage to New York City.
I came across Ivan in the queer spoken word circuits of the Northwest, Seattle and Vancouver primarily, and have seen her perform in various places, devouring every book of hers I can find. Ivan grew up in Canada not far from where I grew up in Alaska, and much of the landscape of his stories are familiar and very home-like to me, with which I really connect.
He goes by either she or he pronouns – “whatever you’re comfortable with,” I’ve heard him say – and is an incredible storyteller, the best I’ve ever seen. I highly recommend the CD You’re a Nation that she made with Richard Spencer. Download a few mp3s of Ivan’s stories from the CBC’s website.
And, in case you can’t tell by the video, he’s quite handsome.
(Thanks to Kim for the link to the youtube video.)