Visible

About a month ago, I turned 30.

My birthday was nothing more than a tale of voodoo and mischief and it had been a long while since I'd laughed that hard. It was a very special surprise to have so many people in attendance.

We ambushed my regular birthday joint, Royal Bangledesh, with 20 folks (the early headcount and reservation number), however, they weren't prepapared for us......and their other innumerable Friday night parties. We had to make some guerilla-style endeavors just to get menus, but we managed to fill our bellies and have a fabulous time. And as the festivities grew, and the wine (and whiskey!) were flowing, so did the people. After the restaurant take-over,(and after wine bottles were opened on the front stoop) the party drama parade commenced at a nearby bar, where we got our late night party on. It is apparent that the need for decadence was urgent for most of us that evening. Delicious.

Again my laughter was almost overwhelming (still laughing) and I am warmly and eternally grateful to EVERYONE in attendance.

I am fortunate to have so many special and loving people in my life.

Since then, I have experienced several revelations. Intense identity crises, deep love for myself, and also deep examination of my previous thirty years. It's been tough for me to realize that I have even lived 30 years and also simultaneously humbling. I hope I can remember it all. I probably don't. Somehow I feel responsible for every second within my past three decades. But because certain experiences are over, does not mean that they did not happen and I will not remember them. History does not require history books, it just requires repetition. And after the last 30 years, I think it's safe to say that I am willing to learn from my history. Learning by provoking change instead of repetition. Learning by stepping forward. Learning by speaking up. My life has been comprised of interesting, amazing, harmful, exciting, and liberating people, experiences, and LIVES. And I think that I am within my 13th. Life, that is. The Lucky Number. My rebel heart has brought upon most of the risks, happiness...and suffering...and I wouldn't change a thing. And as outspoken as I am, or claim to be, the truth is, I have been the author of my own silence for 30 years. My tiny hand is on the volume button and hopefully my voice will crescendo louder into all of your ears.

One day, you will hear me. Unless you already have. My voice has a tendency to shout before I can adjust the sound.

Or maybe you will even read what I have to say. Like now.

Nonetheless, I am finding myself at some level of one. This oneness should be almost divorced of a feminist lense, if you will. This exploration is provoking me to explore a separate existence. A concept of oneness that is simultaneously a belief in sisterhood, but also coupled with individuality.

And....suddenly, there was ONE.

These thoughts have led me face to face with Frida. One of her self portraits. Singular Frida. In a suit, surrounded by clippings of her own hair. Self Portrait with Cropped Hair. A piece filled with pain, transition, love, confusion, release, and HAIR. These words I use are thoughts, and also based on my presumptions. Here is another word. Joyful. This should be included.

If I could change the title of this self portrait, I would call it,
Talking to Myself.

drawings and scribbles, scribbles and drawings

Below are my delayed thoughts on Beyond Visibility, feminism, and otra brain matter. Most of which was written a few months prior, therefore pure and exceptionally honest. Please be gentle when examining my axis. Ah, that's what she said.

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BEYOND VISIBILITY HAPPENED!!!

Honestly, I glow as I write this and immediately begin to recollect. I spent the afternoon truly humbled by the femme presence. I am so grateful for the opportunity to facilitate. It returned me (fearfully!) to ownership via community organizing and DAMNIT, I liked it. I am ready for more.

We called it "Aligning and Illuminating Femmes"...and it sure did. I felt re-acquainted with a community I didn't realize I needed so much. And could also be so incredibly triggered by. And I LOVED that. My wheels were turning for dayz...

Topics surrounding working class, intersectionality, survivors...

I found that as much as we all wanted to "kick it" in solidarity, there were still some feelings. Processing needed to happen. And of course, may not have been fulfilled in one afternoon. As an individual that "passes", whether I want to or like it, found myself stunned by the feeling of being on display as a facilitator and just being OUT. As queer, as black, as femme-identified. It was powerful. And full disclosure, I boundaried myself and my Erica emotions by not reading my work that afternoon. I had an essay that I had been fine-tuning and was dying to share, but found myself handling my self in enormous ounces that I knew that I would feel diminished post the experience...with minimal opportunity to release or relaxe. I am not sure if this was my objective, but I am able to recognize my own red flags and decided to wave them. In solidarity.

The power in not just identity, but identifying...is incredible. And audacious. Both things that I enjoy staring directly into. The Abyss of understanding, perhaps? Methinks that connection at that point was too connected.

Three of my femme identified youth came and blessed the Femmes of Color Caucus with their brilliance and positivity.

"This is A LOT." Nefertiti Martin


I quote her because I fel that she said so simply what everyone felt. It WAS a lot. And that's okay. I hope we can begin from here.

When I had to dip out for nourishment, Aisha (my AMAZING Women's Task Force intern), coordinated the Caucus by asking femmes to define what makes them "femme" in one word. The feeling of the room changed considerably as I re-entered to give a time check after disappearing for a bit. Perhaps because my hungry melodrama had exited, or more appropriately because we let the youth take the lead.

I am ready for more events like this. I think we can all agree that it was one entire day of 4 events: skillshare/brunch; fishbowl/breakout groups; caucauces; literay salon; and caberet/party. Whew! So femme, so spectacular. I look forward to a weekend of similar programming!

accidental feminist thoughts

I have found myself consistently invoking the musings of my previous sisters leaving me to contemplate educating our brown girls. Such a wanton outcry (a la bell hooks' yearning!), from the youth I work with, but also within myself. Call it over-identifying or just call it detectingtheneedforaDETECTIVE. The fearful feminist is in search of some answers. My outcry for sisterhood grows stronger and my desire to redefine feminism is overwhelming. A movement IS upon us...and now it's up to US to get it poppin.

Elizabeth Catlett Mora (April 15, 1915 – April 2, 2012)

More specifically, I am seeking the deconstruction of the myth and the truth of the "strong black woman". Been wondering how many black women, girls, trans women and girls, and other gender non-conforming black woman identified folks can relate to its mythical quality. Duty and presumption continue to astound, confuse, and infuriate me. This is a current project. And like most projects, it found me. Mostly because it IS ME.

grad school plans

I have offically begun the doctorate crawl. Officially, as in, I have plugged in some names of schools into my search engine and made some lists. As usual, the omnivore is having trouble deciding. And my search engine consists of google, but also the genuis minds of my colleagues, pals, party goers, acquaintances and new strangers. So, if you you've got any suggestions for a decidedly disoriented artist/thinker interested in anthropology, gender, sociology, education, and ART ART ART....then hit me up.

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Joie Lee, She's Gotta Have It

I complete this post with a pictures of folks that make up my Femme Root Equation. After much processing ...and over-processing...my equation consists of this:

Clorinda Bradford + Denise Huxtable + Annie Hall
Divided by Brandon Boyd,
And multiplied by Sesame Street's own Abby Cadabby.
All equalling good old E DAWGS.

Enjoy friends.
Until...when?
Then.

Queer? Yes. Femme? Perhaps. On the femme spectrum? DEFINITELY. Then this event is for YOU.

Beyond Visibility is happening...this Sunday. Info is below. Please pass on!

*A Message from my hard-workin' Organizers:

Please keep in mind that this an event created to give space to queer femme folks. As some have asked, this event is not primarily feminist or woman-identified, but for queer femme individuals to develop community, congregate, and share. ALL and we look forward to celebrating and dancing at our evening's programming.

Allies are welcome to the multidisciplinary event, Illuminate: A Femme Salon, at 7pm, as well as to the Cabaret/Dance Party curated by my sweet sista, Heather Acs, at Public Assembly immediately after!

..................................................................................................................................................

Website - http://beyondvisibility.femme2012.com/

FB event is here: http://www.facebook.com/events/143595372417669/?ref=ts


Beyond Visibility January 15, 2012: Illuminating and Aligning Queer Femmes in NYC

Beyond Visibility: Illuminating and Aligning Femmes in NYC is a day-long event for LGBTQQI2 folks on self-identified femme/inine spectrums to come together in conversation, coalition, and celebration of *all* the parts of ourselves and our many communities. Events are taking place in NYC, Toronto, Philadelphia, San Francisco, London, Los Angeles, and beyond.

The NYC extravaganza celebrating femme/inine queer accomplishment includes a Brunch Skillshare Salon, a Community Discussion with Breakout groups, and a Literary event at Judson Memorial Church [all-ages, Assembly Hall at 239 Thompson Street, NY, NY]. In the evening there is a Cabaret and Dance party at Public Assembly [21+, 70 N 6th St Brooklyn, NY]. Both locations are wheelchair accessible. Daytime events are only for self-identified femme-spectrum people of all ages, genders, and abilities.

The Literary event and Cabaret/Dance Party is open to everyone, allies strongly encouraged to attend.

More information is below including details on the events, Vision and Schedule ofthe Day. Please feel free to contact organizers with any questions and forward widely!

Heather M. Acs and Damien Luxe
Organizers of Beyond Visibility
www.beyondvisibility.femme2012.com/
http://www.facebook.com/beyondvisibility

Fab organizer, Damien, during our recent planning meeting.

Description of Events:

On Sunday January 15 from Noon-2p, femme/inine folks are invited to enjoy aBrunch and Skillshare Salon. At 2:30p join a Community Discussionmoved along via transformative facilitation, where everyone will have theopportunity to contribute their needs, desires, and celebrations. This will be followed by break-out groups to continue engaging in intersectional topics such as Safety, Pride & Shame, Truth-telling, Health and more. From 5-6:30p, take a dinner break and participate in documentation including a zine table, blogging station and photo booth!

Because Beyond Visibility aims to create and hold femme/inine queer space to ally with and learn from each other, and to discuss ways to align organizing and organizations to ensure that femme communities grow as intersectional sites of gender justice, the brunch, discussion and break-out groups are free, intentionally safer-spaces, and for only femme-spectrum people of all ages, genders, and abilities.

An additional function of Beyond Visibility is to illuminate the cultural, political and artistic work of participating individuals and groups, and so all are welcomed to the two cultural events taking place. At 7pm at Judson Church, join us for a Literary Salon including Kate Bornstein, Trina Rose, Cristy Road, Nath Ann Carrera, Dondrie Burnham, Alejandro Rodriguez and more. This event is $2-$10.

Starting at 10pm, head over to Brooklyn and the Cabaret/Dance Party where Hana Malia & Glenn Marla bring biting performance art, Serpentina of theConey Island Side Show makes sparks fly, musical stylings from Jazzmen Lee-Johnson & new work by Sassafras Lowery! DJ's Shomi Noise and Nolita spin fierce femme tunes all night! Allies welcome to attend & dance the night away with us! This event is $5-$12.

This event is co-produced by 20 local organizers and is partnered with the bi-annual Femme Conference [www.femme2012.com/]. Beyond Visibility takes place the day the Conference releases its 2012 call for performers and workshops, and aims to generate conversations that grow local community as well as resonate into the Conference, which is taking place in Baltimore August 17-19, 2012. Co-sponsoring organization include the Heels on Wheels Roadshow [www.heelsonwheelsroadshow.com], NYC’s own glittery performance art queer femme tour, Feminist Press [www.feministpress.org/], and QUORUM Forum [http://quorumnyc.org/].

For more information on the NYC event, please visit: www.beyondvisibility.femme2012.com/
Or find the event on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/beyondvisibility

A toolkit of ideas for femmes in other towns to hostess their own femme gatherings are here:

www.heelsonwheelsroadshow.com/toolkit/

Vision:

Beyond Visibility: Illuminating and Aligning Femmes in NYC will be a day-long event for queer folks on a self-identified femme/inine spectrum to come together in conversation, coalition, and celebration of *all* the parts of ourselves and our many communities. We aim to illuminate the cultural, political and artistic work of all participating individuals and groups; to create and hold space to ally with and learn from each other; and discuss ways to align organizing to ensure that femme communities grow as generative, intersectional sites of gender justice.

Schedule for the Day:

12-2p – Skillshare Snack Salon!
Show off your skills! Bring some delicious snacks and learn about changing a bike tire, tiny nail art, create Intersectionality Mural, and much more!

2:30-4 -- Roundtable Discussion
Participate in a co-facilitated community “temperature check” where we reflect onthe resources we have and create action for moving forward.

4-5p -- Break-Out Groups
Continue engaging in self-selected smaller groups based on topics such as Safety, Pride & Shame, Truth-telling, Health and others TBA.

5-6--Caucuses- Femmes of Color, Trans-Femmes

6-7pm Dinner Break
Grab some food or bring your own and visit the documentation table for zine making, photo shoots, and blogging!

7p -- Illuminate: A Femme Salon
Join us for an incredible line-up of performers in an all-ages, sober-friendly space.

Performers:

Kate Borenstein
Alejandro Rodriguez
Dondrie Burnham
Cristy Road
Nath Ann Carrera
Trina Rose
Kirya Traber
MB Dance
Erica Cardwell

10p -- Cabaret & Dance Party
Celebrate gender justice with a wild revue of femme/inine performers and DJs as we dance the night away!

greenery

I have five plants--Harissa, Medusa, Glory, Nessa, and Pete. All are women and extremely youthful. I am terrible at knowing the species of each plant and of most wildlife and botany. Some would like to think that, "you are where you came from," but you also are where you are. Nessa was gifted to me via one plucked leaf from Jessa and Nathaniel's plant life in Brooklyn many moons ago. She grew almost immediately...I would like to believe that she began to grow within the paper towel I transported her in back to my apartment in Queens. She gets her name from a combo of Jessa and Nathaniel's names...mostly favoring Jessa, of course.

Harissa, Medusa, and Glory have lived with me for one year this month. They were amongst four plants sent to me in a condolence package when my godfather passed away. They were the trio of survivors and appear to be in it for the long haul. Harissa is named for her one bright leaf that she hides which I think makes her secretly sassy. Medusa was named for her random long leaves that monopolized our dish drain this summer from her spot at our kitchen window, causing my roommate Luca to name her Medusa out of irritation. And Glory is glorious with her leaves consistently in "testimony", reaching upward to Heaven.

I found Pete at the Union Square farmer's market this summer. I exited the subway intending to purchase some tomatoes but took a disoriented stop in front of a plant seller and decided to go for it. She boasts two new long leaves in the center of her pot. She is the most colorful of the five. Her name just tumbled out of my mouth about a week after I bought her, I can't recall my intention. Maybe because she seems like the little one, the little sister.

There is a new plant in my house. She's not that tall but her branches are long and appear ancient but sturdy. She is youthful like the rest. And there are some tiny green buds sprouting on her branch tips that can be observed if one decides to lean in and look closer. Like the rest, I am unsure of her species, but something tells me that it's new. Perhaps a hybrid of the spider plant, based on her spirit of possessing numerous and entangled arms reaching out to feel the layers of life and of previous lives that exist within the air. She is also extremely thirsty. And her country of origin doesn't exist. She is "where she came from", but not anymore, at least. And she seems content knowing this, and is ready to grow in her new homeland. Perhaps I miscounted. There are six plants in my house.

The sixth one is named Erica. Please water her.

CHOSEN ONES

Check out my review of Pariah on Ikons Magazine site, here.

YEARS by Sylvia Plath

They enter as animals from the outer
Space of holly where spikes
Are not thoughts I turn on, like a Yogi,
But greenness, darkness so pure
They freeze and are.

O God, I am not like you
In your vacuous black,
Stars stuck all over, bright stupid confetti.
Eternity bores me,
I never wanted it.

What I love is
The piston in motion ----
My soul dies before it.
And the hooves of the horses,
There merciless churn.

And you, great Stasis ----
What is so great in that!
Is it a tiger this year, this roar at the door?
It is a Christus,
The awful

God-bit in him
Dying to fly and be done with it?
The blood berries are themselves, they are very still.

The hooves will not have it,
In blue distance the pistons hiss.

treasure

I have been losing a lot of things lately. This doesn’t normally happen to me. I am in the habit of temporarily misplacing things, but they are usually found in my pocket or underneath papers, clothing, etc. Most recently it was my mother’s gold wristband that I wear every day. It disappeared somewhere between my apartment and the train ride home to Pennsylvania for Easter. There were tears as I resigned to it being unfound. When I returned from PA, I realized that I couldn’t remember where'd left an important photograph of my parents. Still looking.

I lost something else recently, but I can’t even remember what it is.

On separate trips to Paris, I lost both earrings given to my mother when my parents first began dating. They were tiny little flower buds with sparkling gemstones in the center. One disappeared in the shower of my Parisienne lover's flat and the other, well, I am not sure. Also, a diamond earring went missing somewhere in Europe. It appears that that country owns me at the rate of jewelry that has been collected at my expense. In any event, I have left a dainty mark in a strange state of zero awareness. This is particularly curious for me because I don't believe in accidents and can usually recall where my footsteps have taken me.

Many years ago, a tiny teacher wallet photo of my mother slipped into the vast thought jungle of my desk. The photograph will most likely be uncovered when I finally exit my Astoria house. That’s a memory that I try to forget…

It appears that my subconscious is allowing certain imagery to disappear-- provoking me to remember--not the object, but the participant. My mother. Divine woman, my founder. It appears that I am shedding. Vacated skin can be found in nature—all natural waste, excess. Perhaps the various founders of my “skin” will take ownership of the life I have unknowingly allowed myself to exit.

Larvae live and develop inside of a cocoon and eventually emerge.
Moths, butterflies…winged bugs.

Le poisson du changement.

Happy Mother’s Day, Willarena.

She's GAGA over HMI!

Lady Gaga, Robin Hood Foundation, and Hetrick-Martin


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REWIND

10/31/10

Riddled by insanity
And coupled with guilt
I lean towards the past
To influence my tilt
Towards something…
Other than the empty
I see
Therefore plaguing me
With questions unanswered
Floating around
Provoking me to curse the ground
That God made.
The spirit that I believe
Allows me to stand
Up and through
the great new YOU
I would like to create
However I am limited by fate
Or thought,
That’s what I thought.
Until the endings were presented.
I am aware of my mind’s theories represented
I inspect forethought with painful shores
Brought here to not RE-create
Recreate, play,
I see the clean day
Where I will determine my family.
Standing firm while listening, readily,
And free
To feel and experience the ill
Beauty denied
Before our decline.
Please be kind.
Remind me to rewind.

costumes

I think about love all the time.

Perhaps, I was born with a forlorn heart. As a child, I can remember hugging myself tightly at bedtime, longing for something I had never experienced. Intimately, the breath of another is an almost primal satiation and I have observed nuanced reactions from the affection I give, certainly unaware of my own strength. Bodies recoil from my touch, as if reacting to a tangible blessing. Or a curse. My cordial moments of acquaintance contact are mistaken, accused, and refused out of fear and assumption of distorted intention. It is a reflection of my previous life. My mother used to tell me that I "had been here before". Now after HER life, I am living within reaction.

A POST-life, sometimes not my own.

I am other wordly. Life on this soil is an infinite discovery--of how to love myself and to truly receive my spirit.

Reverie

The moment where I am able to become the recipient of my own divine love--respectful of its purity--will be the climax. I predict this as my glorified and ultimate quest. Like Lancelot, I have traveled long, far, and broken paths in search of my dragon. While continuing to ignore the only dangerous and beautiful fire that actually threatened me-- the one searing me from the inside. I was determined to survive on other soil. To experience a grand victory and have answers unlocked--like dramatically piercing the dragon with Lancelot's Excalibur. And since, I feel like a hero, I needed to replicate the story of one. The realization lied in the acceptance of myself as the author of this story. My characters laughed and indulged loudly and openly, but loved with an enormous fear. Fortunately, this was not destined to exist as a narrative rerun, it was an original reality. I was in charge of the ending, therefore I could create the love story.

foreshadowing

Italian art jovialist, perhaps?
This will surely be a future look...just need some Mediterranean sun on the regular.
Amen, to the leopard flats.
For more FAB street fashion, go to the The Sartorialist.
delicious.