Category: misc

Vanessa German: The Barber’s Chair

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REBLOG: Vanessa German: The Barber’s Chair

Vox Populi's avatarVox Populi

got the Sunday morning haircut at the neighborhood barber shop.talkin pittsburgh.weather.where you from and are your kids ok.the barber man speaks to the atmosphere of my heart and my eyelashes.he says.you’ve got a warm heart.i don’t know you,but i kin feel it. (i have been in this shop every month for my haircuts.) later.long lashes he says.looks nice.he gives an artful haircut.we hug as i leave.and then.he fckin bites.my.ear.tha fck.and keep yo mouth off of me! and what makes you think.that even if you want to.you should.that it iz right.welcome.or.how have you gone through 6 decades of life and not come to know.where your rights begin and end.i put hand sanitizer on my ear.i think about alla the girls and women i know who hold their tongues like anchors hold yachts.i think about alla the girls and women i know who never say the thing out loud.they take it into…

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The Invisible Woman

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Reblog! How we silence others, even when we believe we’re “doing good”; invisibility of others’ voices and our part in it; a lesson in restraint.

mzwolf1965's avatarTo Be a Better Butch!

It was my thirteenth year when my father realized he did not actually have three sons, but two sons and a daughter. I think he woke up and was like  ” oh shit,  I have a daughter!” And that scared the hell of of him. Not so much because he did not know how to contend with a girl child but because his daughter would one day be an adult woman and he knew what my life could easily look like. From that point on my life lessons became more about independence from men.

My father had an eighth grade education. He was in so many ways a product of the 30’s &  40’s’ but in other ways he was a man beyond his times. He new that as an adult woman I was more likely to be abused or controlled by a man than not. And much like preparing…

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And so it was done, my small part in this collective working against Boko Haram

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I arose about a half hour prior to the moon going void of course. I had prepped the space the night before. Candles had been dressed with deity oil blends per Their request, and rolled in a helpful herb. Sigils and words handwritten on rice paper, incense blended. I cast, and called, and Throngs showed up. I felt empowered and deeply humbled.

This morning’s work was interesting and powerful. Lots of chatter, lots of Folks and folks. Two of the dressed candles burned quickly down with the burning of the sigil paper, but not the candle dressed with Odin oil blend. That one was slower. After thrice reading the poem, I burnt those papers and the final candle slipped to a puddle in the sand, burning for a few more minutes. I set the loose incense to smoke until the end of the moon’s VOC and then I released it to the wind. I cleaned up the space, and crawled back into bed to warm back up and sleep. For those who read spell remnants, the photo below is the oil print from the wax and the paper’s ashes.

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Poseidon requested a tall fresh taper, dressed in His oil blend, on His altar. Other altars have candles burning and will continue, until they are done.

May cracks become crevices become chasms become broken pieces of what once was a band of heartless zealots. May peace and healing be found in the wake of their demise. And as We will, it shall be so.

Guys! Hey, Guys!!!The Boko Haram Working is mentioned in The Wild Hunt!

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)2 Comments

You can read the write-up HERE on The Wild Hunt, and full details in my previous blog post about the co-created event I am a part of.

AND, serendipity alert – there was a call put out earlier this month by Chiefs from the Eastern regions of Cameroon!! Details of that are in the Wild Hunt piece, so pop on over and take a read, and please boost our working if you are so called!

!! (insert a wee squee for TWH) !!

Silence is Never Consent

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REBLOG Silence can be complicity would be an improvement, but the word “can” must be emphasized to not go down the same bullshit road that “silence is consent” does.

Camilla Laurentine's avatarFoxglove & Firmitas

We have to be careful about the rhetoric we use, especially in a forum that relies completely on written word.  I saw this this morning, and I decided not to address it on Patheos, because I don’t want to derail the conversation on racism that is happening.  At the same time, I am not okay with this:

A Quote from a Patheos blog reading, "Thank you for all your support in this discussion, but especially for this. It explains in great detail exactly why I wrote what I wrote. Silence is consent, and I do not consent to racism in my community." The identity of the quoted has been blurred out. Identity withheld due to my assumption that the person quoted simply didn’t think this through before saying it since their chances of being raped are statistically less than mine.

By all means, draw lines when you feel they are needed.  Tell me what you don’t consent to even, because that’s really, really important. But silence?  Silence is never consent.  Ever.

I’m not unaware of the necessity for white people speaking out against other white people’s racist BS.  I will even agree that our silence when it comes to issues of white supremacy allows it…

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Love can break you open, if you let it

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Anyone who doesn’t believe Love is an actual Force, and can be a catalyst for swift change hasn’t been paying attention. For me, I started a long lonely climb out of the place I had been with the turn of the new year. It felt like an ascent in mud. Then the despair in me broke open. It happened shortly before this past weekend and it occurred via Love. For you-know-who-you-are, I am grateful.

This is the me I always am in my head. I haven’t been the me in my head on the outside of me recently, either in dress, or in what I let loose to the world. Today I returned to dressing the part – the part called Me. Today I let loose the new-old me again. These fabulous pants (I ordered 5 different pair recently from http://www.harempants.com/ ) are so comfortable!

(I tell myself someday I’ll master the Art of Selfie™ w/o a mirror. Some lies are okay to believe.)

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Let Love break you open!

For A Veteran, For “KISS”, For Yellow Funereal Ribbons

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Reblogging for Labrys

Labrys's avatarSub-Rosa

2014-12-03 Day 46 Flame and Shadows2As I said on my more (ever slightly) active blogs at Herlander Walking and Steel Kachinas….I have a grim week ahead. I am even being forced into flying for the first time in over a decade.

A veteran as dear to me as my sons, Lincoln Marston, is dying at Duke University Medical School. Just after New Year’s he suffered the rupture of an aneurysm in his brain and almost a dozen catastrophic strokes. His wife, Amy, also an Air Force veteran who served with him in Afghanistan has no income whatsoever at this time.  They have two young children who are just becoming terrified they will have to say farewell to their father.

It is time to support the troops, any of you who call me friend!  There is a site to help raise money….for everything from medical bills to funeral costs.  I take flight this weekend, with my…

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