“How did I get so lucky, to find this love?” He was half-asleep, naked except for his chonies again, his hair so messy and beautiful. “Oh, you have ocd and narcolepsy. You were in the bargain bin!” I looked at his smiling mouth and closed eyes. We were laughing. I imagined the bargain bin at… Read More »
“Want some?” Ming asked. He was eating a poke bowl. I made a weird facial expression. “No thank you,” I said. “For me, that’s worse than starvation food. I would eat lichen before I ate that.” He found this answer amusing. So I asked if I could take his picture. He obliged kindly, kneeling by… Read More »
“Listen to me! You seem to think you’re 35 years old, in good health, and with it. But you’re a senior or better, in so so health, and losing your mind!” I was talking to Ming about his morning journey. It was an act of love. His plan included taking the bus to a fasting… Read More »
I made a new ecstatic dance video. A friend asked me how I can dance in public, so I made this video to answer her question. Felt great to talk about some of my favorite topics: choosing my values, dance ministry, creating the world I want to live in, shedding shame, fat validity, being a… Read More »
I embroidered a mantis on a white teeshirt for Ming. He likes it. That was the nickname I had for Ming, long ago, when we were young. I called him Freaky Mantis. He was very thin and angular. I could see his ribs. He would forget to eat. Medication changes and birthdays later, Ming is… Read More »
Hey, I go through phases where I listen to a lot of Joanna Newsom. She is powerful medicine for me, as well as a freakin genius. I can pick it up but have to put it back down again. I want to listen to Milk-Eyed Mender over and over. It can be very stabilizing for… Read More »
Hey, how are you doing? Ming and I came home. I like home, but I get overwhelmed. Too much to do! So much mail to read! Buy fruit, ride trike, dance a jig. Theorize how capitalism needs racism. This morning I was thinking about how capitalism needs racism to function. I was lying in bed… Read More »
“Is your cereal good?” I asked Ming. He nodded, his eyes closed, half-asleep. “Talking to you is like talking to a three year old, sometimes,” I said. “Trying to get a little kid to talk. Do you like those blocks? I like those blocks! Do you like the blue one? Which one is your favorite?”… Read More »