womanness is a/an:

visual exploration
poetic investigation
personal practice
erotic expression
performance of self-authorship
visual-verbal love song1
pursuit of a new archetype
living metaphor
nocturnal poem2
archive of female overflow
map of intuition
experiment in open research
question of feminine writing3

1Mann, Sally. Hold Still, Little Brown and Company, 2015, pp. 208. 2Paz, Octavio. “The Kingdoms of Pan.” Translated by Helen Lane. The Double Flame: Love and Eroticism, Harcourt, Inc., 1995, pp. 18. 3Woolf, Virginia. Un lieu à soi. Translated by Marie Darrieussecq, Denoël, 2016, pp. 176.

waning year/remarriage/wilding
a topography in fifteen chapters

tantric currents
Theater of Love
self study 1-21

Consider an axis of values that emphasizes:

  • Becoming over outcome
  • Human over product
  • Free and open sharing of ideas and creations
  • A process of ongoing revision and evolution
  • Exploration with intention but without fixed destination

tantric currents, daily nothing


wide open windows
wild dreams
a kind of sleeplessness

praying to the full moon
but now
for what
I can’t even remember

up at 2am

a dream of eating
watermelon, an enormous
mouthful, almost more
than I could swallow

after weeks,
soft months,
of a shifting reality
I’m aware of a
habitual lilting
back into an old
groove, a long-
accepted way of

& I’m trying to maintain an honest record

love from 109 at the islander
mid/early afternoon
portrait of Simonetta Vespucci
afternoon coffee
to be up all night
relishing in letting
my precious schedule
go to shit

(confined to myself, I am
breaking further out of myself
than I have in years)

windows open
clear, clean sun
my home full of new
strange, benevolent insomnia
up before the sun
body so sore but
from what I’m not sure

back & forth b/w
damn & blonde
to catch the mood

underwear & big earrings

neither attractive nor innate
but colors alive/dormant
within me

I have been such a good
student of the patriarchy
that I’ve kept nearly every
inch of my sexuality hidden
& most of all from myself

all the things I thought
belonged to someone else like
to be a hungry slut seductress
fuckable doll goddess to
let all of those energies
just run through my body

trying to erase the
line between
in here/
out there

a manifesto of womanness
in multitudes

driving home sandy
salty sun soaked
& feeling like sex

birdsong & bright sun
finally woke me,
sore eyes

shunga photos
peaches & plums

always the heat, the
open air, the dirt &
dust the hand of
nature on my body, in
my hair

on the floor
as the sun goes down

tantric current / pink

higher & higher
frequencies of destiny

the high priestess of voltage

this morning I thought:
am I somehow missing a true documentation of this time disrespecting the magic of these new-middle years?

a thought too: in what ways have I been solely & secretly shouldering the weight of my womanness instead of asking the culture (or even just (my community)) to carry it with me, equally?

questions of the nighttime!

my scorpio home
kiki smith
a primer for forgetting
plants & art

pre-election deep
anxiety trying to
meditate but mostly
getting high
a glass of wine before
bed overwhelming
neck pain music
all the time

hell of a life

kissing until my lips were bruised

I felt suddenly the
the trust or perhaps
the submission to
this strange, solitary passage--

It feels like the whole country is holding their breath. Getting high, watching bond films, glasses of wine still on my nightstand come morning. Hoping, praying. Work just a brief distraction. All my old routines have vanished in this new space. I still don’t know what tethers me here. Warm baths? Opening those giants windows to the morning sky? My bedroom a hedonist nest. Overcast heat.

remembering the game of love
something in me feeling urgent, changeable