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



I.

wide open windows
wild dreams
a kind of sleeplessness
II.

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


rain
coffee
nightmares
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
being,
tamed


& 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)


incense
windows open
clear, clean sun
my home full of new
energy
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
incarnate


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
III.

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


2am
thursday
kissing until my lips were bruised


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


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