In an effort to both allocate space for and document the existence of masculine women, photographer Meg Allen created a powerful series of portraits for an exhibit at Cafe Gabriela in Oakland, Calif.
Entitled BUTCH, Allen’s series not only represents genderqueer women for a broader, heteronormative audience, but reaffirms butch identity within the queer community at a time when “butch flight,” or gender transitioning, is arguably becoming more and more commonplace. It is, as Allen says on her website, “an homage to the bull-daggers and female husbands before me, and to the young studs, gender queers and bois who continue to bloom into the present.”
These are some good looking folks
This is all I have ever wanted to see. My butch friends may sometimes get “Why don’t you just become a man?” in the same way folks would tell me “Why don’t you just be a butch lesbian?” Because masculinity and gender identity are two totally separate bubbles, that for some become a venn diagram, and for others, coexist peacefully inside of us.
Two things can exist independently, and coexist peacefully. Gender identity and masculinity/femininity/androgyny.
w h o a
Because of awkward lease ending/moving into a new place dates all of the furniture in my house got moved out today and I’m spending my first of what will be a week and a half in it tonight- no furniture, cats, roommates, or internet after Monday. I think this may call for gin.
"It always amuses me that the biggest praise for my work comes for the imagination, while the truth is that there’s not a single line in all my work that does not have a basis in reality. The problem is that Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination.”
—Gabriel García Márquez from The Art of Fiction No. 69, The Paris Review
One of the things I really enjoy about living in Boise (or Idaho, really) is its wilderness. I grew up in a smaller town in Idaho and went camping every summer- my parents would load all 5 of us kids up in the station wagon or truck with the camper shell on the back and we’d go.
On these trips, my mom was always the super nervous up-front passenger grabbing the handle above the window while my dad sped and maneuvered up the winding mountain roads that got us to our camping sites. I always thought it was ridiculous when I was younger- had implicit faith that my dad would get us wherever we were going just fine- so I’d make a point of gesturing at the view out of my window down the side of the mountain and how fantastic it was while she gripped the handle and asked my dad to slow down.
I got my driver’s license last week. I lost it when I was a teenager after being in a couple bad scrapes and just worked out getting a car and my license back after 10 years of not driving. Boise has a great and well-maintained set of hiking and mountain biking trails that are fairly accessible- some of the trailheads, though, are a bit too far away and uphill to get to unless you have a car or are one of those serious spandex-clad cyclists. This being my first weekend driving I really wanted to jump on the chance to get to some of those trails- I had a great hike yesterday and set out to drive to a new trail today that was supposed to be a 5-mile loop with a great view of the valley.I didn’t turn on the right road. I ended up stuck on the long, winding, two-lane road up the side of the mountain that leads to our closest ski resort. There’s no good place to turn around (at least as someone who’s new to the route could tell) until you get to the very top, which is something over 6,000 feet up. I just got home from this drive I didn’t anticipate that I had to talk myself all the way through- (out loud. the whole time. you’re going to be ok. stay focused on the lane in front of you. go slow. stay focused and go slow and everything is going to be ok. you are not going to spin off the side of the mountain. look at the lane and not at anything else. the cars behind you can wait until the next turn-off space. this is scary and new. it’s ok. everything’s going to be ok. the wind is not going to blow your car off of the side of the mountain. go slow. stay focused. those cars can wait. that tightening in your chest is legitimate and understandable fear and nerves, but you’re not having a heart attack and it’s going to be ok. everything will be ok.)
I’m back, and well, and having a strong drink. I’m proud that I talked myself through that experience with positivity and reassurance. I have a lot more empathy for my mom and her anxieties and a bit more faith that I can make it through these kinds of situations in one piece.(picture taken during yesterday’s hike)
The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality, and it was vitality that seemed to seep away from me in that moment. Everything there was to do seemed like too much work. I would come home and I would see the red light flashing on my answering machine, and instead of being thrilled to hear from my friends, I would think, “What a lot of people that is to have to call back.” Or I would decide I should have lunch, and then I would think, but I’d have to get the food out and put it on a plate and cut it up and chew it and swallow it, and it felt to me like the Stations of the Cross.
And one of the things that often gets lost in discussions of depression is that you know it’s ridiculous. You know it’s ridiculous while you’re experiencing it. You know that most people manage to listen to their messages and eat lunch and organize themselves to take a shower and go out the front door and that it’s not a big deal, and yet you are nonetheless in its grip and you are unable to figure out any way around it.
"communism only works on paper" yeah because every time a country moves towards anything even slightly resembling socialism the u.s. will inevitably barge in and put a military dictator in place so as to keep their capitalist monopolies running