Art, Bodies, Confidence

I Wanted To Take A Bath

So I took off my clothes and started filling the tub.

I set out a few candles around the bathroom; the sink, the window ledge, the toilet tank. I turned off the overhead and lit a match, moving from one candle to the next enjoying the rushing sound of the filling bath.

I turned my back to the sink with its three evenly spaced candles to pick some music for my soak and my gaze was met by curves descending like vines from the ceiling. When I moved they moved. My body, my hourglass, my S curves in triplicate, projected larger than life onto gleaming white tile.

I threw on something slow and watched my body in kaleidoscope. Twisting and turning, one curve turning into another, coming to a point, revealing itself to be a shoulder, a nipple, a hip.

I moved around the room and saw myself on all walls. Here, looking like three backup singers in impressive synchronicity. There, looking like one body as seen by a drunk three-eyed observer, gently rolling in and out of focus with herself.

A non-strip non-tease for an audience of herself plus water and fire. A sister goddess indeed.


The Role of The Artist in Society

My dad had a story he liked to tell over dinner.

He was seeing a show and at a certain part everyone was yelling over each other. It was supposed to be some sort of a press conference and then one person would shout his question.

“What is the role of the artist in society?”

And the other actor gave an answer but dad couldn’t remember it.

So every time he told the story you got to answer it anew.

What is the role of the artist in society?

What makes someone an artist?

Maybe it’s when you seek out the deepest part of yourself and turn it into something that taps into the same deep part of someone else.

Art, Menstruation

More rupi Love

And let me not forget to mention that the talented and graceful rupi is also the artist behind this

wonderful display of femininity and courage to “demystify the period and make something that is innate ‘normal’ again.”

I will not apologise for not feeding the ego and pride of misogynist society that will have my body in an underwear but not be ok with a small leak when your pages are filled with countless photos/accounts where women (so many who are underage) are objectified, pornified, and treated less than human.

Role model.

Art, Bodies, Confidence

Nothing Makes Me Feel More Beautiful Than Paintings Of Women Lounging

Women in repose.

I think it reminds me that the artist found this sight beautiful enough to paint. And generations of people found it captivating.

And not only did the artist find her beautiful, but the artist found her as beautiful as the blue that is the shadow of her knee.

It’s a lovely blue that was chosen to express the loveliness of that knee. And an equally lovely pink to express the loveliness of her calf.

How lovely to remember that I can look at women every day and remember that they’re as lovely as my favorite shade of purple.

Maybe that’s the artist’s gift to society. To remind us that the things we don’t always look at are still beautiful.

Art, Self-Care

The Art Assignment

The Art Assignment is a YouTube series I’ve really enjoyed watching, and not just because I love John Green.

I like feeling like I’m a part of a community.

I’m chatty. I’m good at “Networking.” I’m a huge extrovert. But the real point of all those things is that I desire community. I crave it. Nerdfighteria provides that.

Vlogbrothers reminds me I’m a part of a community that decreases world-suck and The Art Assignment reminds me I’m a part of a community that increases beauty and joy in the world. So if you have a free moment and you feel that same urge then call the number in the video. Be a part of something greater than yourself. And watch a few videos of people making fools of themselves in the name of art. I promise it’ll feel good.

Art, Man Meat


A few years ago now a family friend introduced me to a webcomic. is one of the strangest things I’ve ever been turned on by. It’s a series of comics, most with some sort of sexual undertone although some are “Safe.” I’d certainly put them under my NSFW tab if I had one.

They range from vaguely involving something sexual in a funny way.

To not really involving sex at all.

To make you blush-worthy.

I’ve taken a particular liking to the goddess. She just always makes me giggle.




Art, Bodies

Shantell Martin Drawing On Everything

I’m obsessed with this series of images from Shantell Martin’s exhibit at MoCADA.

I love the idea of being drawn on.

I don’t have any tattoo’s and I don’t have a real desire for one. I’m more attracted to the idea of my body being a slate that can be marked and wiped clean like an etch a sketch.

I love the way bodies can be scraped and scab and heal and scar, it’s like watching a microcosm of evolution on your own knee. And it always reminds me that I’m just as alive as the plants that grow and die and grow again.

Markers will mark, be wiped off, leave a tint, be wiped again, and eventually (sadly) be gone without a trace. But that just means that you can draw a new story on your skin. A new story for the new day.

It also makes me think of how makeup and selfies and fashion allow us to decide for ourselves how we want the world to see us. What we want to be today, what we want our bodies to say today.

Allowing someone else to draw on you is a bond, “I allow you to write my story today.” I trust you.

And both the art and the trust are so beautiful.

Art, Bodies, Confidence, Gender

Objects Can’t Bruise Themselves

Unpopular opinion: It makes me really mad when men are upset by my bruises.

I do a pretty physical job and I’m also pretty clumsy. I drop heavy equipment on my legs, bruise my knees crawling under stages and cut my hands open on aircraft cable. I get hurt using my body to do damn cool things.

And on a number of occasions men have approached me telling me how their biggest pet peeve is seeing a woman bruised or scarred, offering me tips about arnica and whatever other herbal remedies.

It’s not like I don’t know why they do it, they’re bragging about their protective capabilities. They’re anti-domestic violence. Well good on them. Way to clear a VERY LOW BAR.

This has always annoyed me. I get really proud of my injuries. They’re mine. Ask me about them. I’ll tell you the story of how I got them because I’m really cool and I got them doing really cool things.

I take pride in my bruises and scrapes so why should some guy get to have opinions about them? I realized the other day why these comments offend me so much.

If I meet a guy with scars and bruises I’m not going to assume it’s from a domestic spat with his wife. I’m going to assume it’s from something he actively did, snowboarding, dropping a leko on his head, misfiring a staple gun. But when that bouncer sees a bruise on me he also makes the assumption that it’s something done by a man. Because men do the doing.

This bouncer who daily commented on how upset my (well earned) bruises made him even saw me doing my job. He knew it was physical, that I was running around bumping into stuff and yet he still looked at me and thought “A lady shouldn’t be bruised.”

Once again I’m all for men who are anti-domestic violence, but I’m not getting in domestics with my boyfriends, I’m living my life in a world full of inconveniently placed coffee tables. There’s a difference, and apparently some men can’t imagine that.

Art, Sexuality, Theater

Sleep No More, Club Sesso, and Voyeurism

Tonight I finally got to see Sleep No More at the McKittrick Hotel.

Let’s talk about voyeurism.

According to


 [vwah-yur-iz-uhm, voi-, voiuh-riz-]


The practice of obtaining sexual gratification by looking at sexual objects or acts, especially secretively.

Not to give away anything for those who haven’t seen the show yet but the action plays out on various floors and in various rooms of an “abandoned hotel” and you follow (or don’t) the performers around to follow (or not) the story. While wearing a full face mask.

So you’re watching people have very intense moments, in various states of dress, while wearing a mask, surrounded by other people wearing masks. If you’re someone who thinks about voyerism in general it can be an exceptionally meta experience. Watching the show; watching other people watch the show; watching other people watch you watch the show; it just goes on.

It’s sort of like if every time you clicked on a link a little bubble popped up that told you all the other people in the world who were clicking on it at the same time as you.

It reminded me very much of this NSFW website which shows terms being searched on porn sites in real time. Watching other people watching.

It also reminded me of a section of Oh Joy Sex Toy’s review of Club Sesso where she describes the private rooms at the club and how the people involved use the architecture to convey how much exposure they want. In the show there were sections where you had to be invited behind a door- exclusive, sections in large open halls- public and sections in small rooms or hallways- don’t get too close. And then there was the roaming which you were invited to take part in. Walk around and check stuff out.

As I walked around I couldn’t help thinking “This is someone’s wet dream,” all this sexuality, vulnerability and voyeurism. It’s a beautiful experience and an even more interesting exploration of how humans choose to interact with each other given exponentially more choices than in any regular situation. I was pleased to see that most everyone was very respectful, even in large groups and tight spaces. That’s the thing about when people are given unexpected freedoms, sometimes they surprise you by not taking liberties.