"Truth is, there may be angels, but if there are angels up there, living on clouds or sitting on thrones across the sea wearing velvet robes and golden rings, drinking whiskey from silver cups, we're better off if they stay rich and fat and ugly and 'xactly where they are-in their own distant heavens."

Natalie Díaz, Abecedarian Requiring Further Examination of Anglikan Seraphym Subjugation of a Wild Indian Rezervation

A Breeze

Cradled on the crests of enclosing peaks,

A golden crescent swam in the mists

Of dreams flashing hues in our sleep,

But drifts off down the brook like your kiss.

Crow to me from the branches of pine,

Bring the items that have started to decay,

And in the traits gone which we'll find—

Only when all was severed and astray!

Pale leaves flutter onto the shaded brook,

That snakes to flower-splashed plains;

That i hear tweets, and the longing chirps

Of the wonders that we sought in vain.

For what can the desert provide,

But sands over unknown flowers;

What still secrets could I confide

In these purple twilight hours?

Natalie Diaz

Natalie Diaz was born in 1978 in Needles, California. Diaz's poetry deals with her own experience growing up on an Indian reservation and the issues facing Native Americans. Her debut poetry collection, When My Brother Was an Azetc, was published in 2012 and won the American Book Award. Her poetry collection Postcolonial Love Poem won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry and was a finalist for the 2020 National Book Award. Diaz has received numerous other honors, including a MacArthur Fellowship and the Nimrod/Hardman Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry.

The Last Mojave Indian Barbie

Wired to her display box were a pair of one-size-fits-all-Indians stiletto moccasins, faux turquoise earrings, a dream catcher, a copy of Indian Country Today, erasable markers for chin and forehead tattoos, and two six-packs of mini magic beer bottles—when tilted up, the bottles turned clear, when turned right-side-up, the bottles refilled. Mojave Barbie repeatedly drank Ken and Skipper under their pink plastic patio table sets. Skipper said she drank like a boy. Mojave Barbie secretly hated the color of her new friends' apricot skins, how they burned after riding in Ken's convertible Camaro with the top down, hated how their micro hairbrushes tangled and knotted in her own thick, black hair, which they always wanted to braid. There wasn't any diet cola in their cute little ice chests, and worst of all, Mojave Barbie couldn't find a single soft spot on her body to inject her insulin. It had taken years of court cases, litigation, letters from tribal council members, testimonials from CHR nurses, and a few diabetic comas just to receive permission to buy the never-released hypodermic needle accessory kit—before that, she'd bought most on the Japanese black market—Mattel didn't like toying around with the possibility of a Junkie Barbie. Mojave Barbie had been banned from the horse stables and was no longer invited to dinner, not since she let it slip that when the cavalry came to Fort Mojave, the Mojaves ate a few horses. It had happened, and she only let it slip after Skipper tried to force her to admit the Mojave Creation was just a myth: It's true. I'm from Spirit Mountain, Mojave Barbie had said. No, you're not, Skipper had argued. You came from Asia. But Mojave Barbie wasn't missing much—they didn't have lazy man's bread or tortillas in the Barbie Stovetop to Tabletop Deluxe Kitchen. In fact, they only had a breakfast set, so they ate the same two sunny-side-up eggs and pancakes every meal. Each night after dinner, Mojave Barbie sneaked from the guesthouse—next to the tennis courts and Hairtastic Salon—to rendezvous with Ken, sometimes in the collapsible Glamour Camper, but most often in the Dream Pool. She would yenni Ken all night long. (Yenni was the Mojave word for sex, explained a culturally informative booklet included in Mojave Barbie's box, along with an authentic frybread recipe, her Certificate of Indian Blood, a casino player's card, and a voided per capita check.) They took precautions to prevent waking others inside the Dream House—Mojave Barbie's tan webbed hand covering Ken's always-open mouth muffled his ejaculations. One night, after drinking a pint of Black Velvet disguised as a bottle of suntan lotion, Ken felt especially playful. Ken was wild, wanted to sport his plastic Stetson and pleather holsters, wanted Mojave Barbie to wear her traditional outfit, still twist-tied to her box. She agreed and donned her mesquite-bark skirt and went shirtless except for strands of blue and white glass beads that hung down in coils around her neck. The single feather in her hair tickled Ken's fancy. He begged Mojave Barbie to wrap her wide, dark hips around him in the “Mojave Death Grip,” an indigenous love maneuver that made him thankful for his double-jointed pelvis. (A Mojave Death Grip Graphic How-To Manual was once included in the culturally informative booklet, but a string of disjointed legs and a campaign by the Girl Scouts of America led to a recall.) Ken pointed his wooden six-shooter and chased her up the Dream Slide. The weight of the perfectly proportioned bodies sent the pool accessory crashing to the patio. Every light in every window painted itself on as the Dream House swung open from the middle, giving all inside a sneak peak at naked Ken's hard body and naked Mojave Barbie gripping his pistol, both mid-yenni and dripping wet. Ken was punished by Mattel's higher-ups, had his tennis racket, tuxedo, Limited Edition Hummer, scuba and snorkel gear, aviator sunglasses, Harley, windjammer sailboard, his iPad and iPhone confiscated. Mojave Barbie had been caught red-handed and bare-breasted. She was being relocated—a job dealing blackjack at some California casino. On her way out the gate, she kicked the plastic cocker spaniel, which fell sideways but never pulled its tongue in or even barked—she felt an ache behind her 39 EE left breast for her rez dog, which had been discontinued long ago. Mojave Barbie tossed a trash bag filled with clothes and accessories into her primered Barbie Happy Family Volvo, which she'd bought at a yard sale. The car had hidden beneath a tarp in the Dream House driveway since she got there. She climbed through the passenger door over to the driver's seat, an explosion of ripped vinyl, towels, and duct tape. She pumped and pumped the gas pedal, clicked and clicked the ignition, until the jalopy fired up. Mojave Barbie rolled away, her mismatched hubcaps wobbling and rattling, a book of yellow WIC coupons rustling on the dash, and a Joy Harjo tape melted in the tape deck blaring, I'm not afraid to be hungry. I'm not afraid to be full. Mom and Dad Barbie, Grandma Barbie, Skipper, and Ken stood on the Dream House balcony and watched Mojave Barbie go. Grandma Barbie tilted at the waist whispering to Mom Barbie, They should've kept that one in the cupboard. Dad Barbie piped in, Yep, it's always a gamble with those people. Mom Barbie was silent, hoping the purpling, bruise-like marks the size of mouths circling Ken's neck were not what she thought they were: hickies, or, as the culturally informative booklet explained, a “Mojave necklace.” Skipper complained to Ken that Mojave Barbie had flipped them off as she drove out the wrought-iron gates, which, of course, locked behind her with a clang. Ken fingered the blue bead in his pocket and reassured Skipper, Mojave Barbie was probably waving goodbye—with hands like that, you can never be sure.

— Natalie Diaz, When My Brother Was an Aztec (2012)

TONIGHT @ 7PM EST

The Palestinian festival of literature is hosting a panel titled “BUT WE MUST SPEAK ON PALESTINE AND THE MANDATES OF CONSCIOUS” featuring notable guests:

MICHELLE ALEXANDER - Black civil rights lawyer and author of “The New Jim Crow”

TA-NEHISI COATES - Black Award winning writer

NATALIE DIAZ - Award winning Mojave American poet

RASHID KHALIDI - Palestinian- American professor and historian

MOHAMMED EL-KURD - Notable Palestinian journalist, writer and poet.

There will be updates about the ongoing genocide of Palestinians, poetry readings, and additional discussions. Please attend!

Palfest will be streaming it live on their YouTube channel, link below:

FALLOUT OC LIST

Quick rundown of each and every one of my ocs. fair warning, there's...a lot.

starting with the protagonists

Alex Miller: vault dweller/fallout 1. librarian, poet/storyteller, singer. gets through the game with a silver tongue and the combat skills of other people.

Alexandria Miller: chosen one/fallout 2. almost identical in appearance to Alex, was raised on the belief that she was his reincarnation (she isn't). still kind, but slightly more prone to combat. fiercely loyal to her village.

Samael Rafferty: lone wanderer/fallout 3. rude and sarcastic but a good person. High INT/END, low CHA. has attracted the attention of multiple divine entities and does not want any of it.

Courier Six/Omen: courier/fallout new vegas. God of warnings, messengers, luck, death, rebirth, the desert, games, travelers.

Nathaniel Sol: fallout 4, mechanic, sweetheart, high agility.

Nora Sol: fallout 4, lawyer, distant but kind, good head for logistics.

Valory Hargrave: fallout 4, Nora's sister, hedonist, intense.

Roadkill: the prisoner/fallout van buren. former leader of the Bluecopper Bandits, neutral leaning evil karma, good with horses.

Viktor Darling: fallout 76; not a vault dweller, part of a scientist group that arrived in west virginia to study the wildlife.

and now everyone else:

Captain Deadlight: glowing one captain of the whaling ship Incessant

Marie: technically a canon character - baby from the Pitt. adopted by sam. psychic abilities allow her to inflict her emotions on nearby people.

Devilpunks/Hellpunks: a group of mostly teenagers inspired by Sam who posit themselves against basically everyone else in the wasteland. Members include: Dagger (their unofficial leader), Muerte (their radio DJ), Gabriel, Saint, Beel, Hare-trigger, Chitin, Hellhound, and Rowan.

Summer Tardigrade Choir: a gen12 synth anachorite (faction by @/calder) with the psychic ability to intuit an object's physical properties and 'memories'. has plants growing out of her and jokingly calls herself a dryad

Melissa Miller: Alex's great-grandmother, a pre-war actress who starred in schlocky sci-fi movies

Martin Miller: Melissa's husband, ran an auto shop

Jacob & Gwen Miller: Alex's parents

Lady Luck/Miss Fortune: Courier's mother, the previous god of the Mojave region, luck goddess (obviously). died when the bombs dropped but echoes of her remain.

Death of a Hero: Courier's 'father', runs the cafe of broken dreams.

Kaga: technically a cut fo2 character. Alexandria's younger brother who was sick of living in her shadow. Also Feargus's father.

Raziel Rafferty: Samael's adopted daughter. Most successful of the Enclave psyker experiments; has technokinesis.

Nihil: god of mass death (ex. you could see her in Nipton). more of a force of nature than a person.

Maul: raider, member of the Pack

Killjoy: the Pack's resident veterinarian/medic/animal wrangler. was a parahunter until a jetpack crash left him severely injured and his squad kinda abandoned him. bitter and cynical, usually hides away in his (heavily fortified) shack.

Transceiver: the first successful Enclave psyker experiment; heavily mutated; his powers basically act as a psychic beacon he can't turn off. leader of the capital wasteland super mutants.

Jeremiah: architect

Moses C Sharpe: gunsmith. made Courier's signature gun, Snakebite

Professor Paradox: purposely leans into the mad scientist aesthetic; Viktor's mentor

Dallian: parahunter

Scion-3: Shaun in my fo4 rewrite. third in a line of artificially created humans made with nate and nora's dna, set to take over the Institute when Scion-2 retires.

Revelation: god of the future and visions. Responsible for the gift of Sight. Associated with dogs, water, and the moon.

God of Capitalism: a rotting, parasitic thing, lashing out and dragging down those consumed by greed in a desperate attempt to save itself. toying with the idea of it taking the form of vaultboy.

Rusty: ex-forged raider who joins sanctuary with her dog Tetanus

Joy & Daisy: Alexandria's twin daughters

Canis, aka Caine: Daisy's son, Alexandria's grandson; head of the Arroyo wolf scouts, who ride repaired motorcycles.

Deer Crossing: con artist operating in the PNW with his border collie Lady

Crossbuck: gunslinger bounty hunter, childhood friend of Deer Crossing

Beau: Deer's kinda-sorta-maybe boyfriend who he definitely shouldn't be interacting with (Beau is the son of a wine baron)

Mars: god of war of the Legion, dies when they collapse. not the actual Mars from Rome, not really

Andraw Lovelock: technically not a fallout oc; ranger from Wasteland

Hellion (Perihelion/Aphelion): also not a fallout oc. character for Fallen Earth, a game i have not successfully played because my laptop hates it. determined to use her functional immortality to learn and experience as much as possible

Other potential couriers I haven't fleshed out: Augustus (Legion), Acetone (NCR), Lance (House)

Moose: super mutant in the PNW, manages a trading post out of a junkyard

L.K: member of a group descended from girl scouts with similar practices (modified for the wasteland, of course)

Topaz: flower child from a hippie commune type place

Sal: fur trapper/trader

Deadnettle and Henbit: ghoul wives who run a radio station in virginia, they're from the same group as Viktor (Reverent scientists)

Theodore Bones: god of whimsy and chaos. he's the guy who's posing all the mannequins and teddy bears

Cherry: Roadkill's girlfriend, lesbian cowboy explosives expert from Ontario

Purgatory: explosives dealer. has a bomb-sniffing dog who helps her recover mines

Karma: tattoo artist in Rivet City

Romeo: head of the guards in the Gomorrah after the change in management

Niko Avery: Viktor's husband, a surgeon

Jonas & Marten: other member's of Roadkill's gang. Grew up together in Reno.

Maisy Brewitt: prewar seamstress, self-assured and friendly, from the fan project fallout caldera

Daisy Belle: android, distant and protective, Maisy's partner; also from fallout caldera

Minerva aka Minnie: an intelligent deathclaw living in Arroyo

Horses: Biscuit & Strudel (Courier's), Marrow (Roadkill), Cider (Nate), Scotch (Val), Brandy (Nora), Belle (Preston), Bourbon (Nora & Val's childhood horse), Harbinger (Sam)

Other animals: Fishbone the Raycat (Sam), Maraca the Nightstalker (Courier), Spoodle the Rat (Alex), Vision the Borzoi (Viktor), Domino the Raycat (Easy Pete)

Final total: 83 (ish. i mighta miscounted)

Listening to the audiobook version of Postcolonial Love Poem and had to find the written version of

The First Water Is the Body

In Mojave thinking, body and land are the same. The words are separated only by the letters ‘ii and ‘a: ‘iimat for body, ‘amat for land. In conversation, we often use a shortened form for each: mat-. Unless you know the context of a conversation, you might not know if we are speaking about our body or our land. You might not know which has been injured, which is remembering, which is alive, which was dreamed, which needs care. You might not know we mean both. If I say, My river is disappearing, do I also mean, My people are disappearing? ... If I was created to hold the Colorado River, to carry its rushing inside me, if the very shape of my throat, of my thighs is for wetness, how can I say who I am if the river is gone? What does ‘Aha Makav mean if the river is emptied to the skeleton of its fish and the miniature sand dunes of its dry silten beds? If the river is a ghost, am I? Unsoothable thirst is one type of haunting.

cast your mutuals as your fav perfumes uwu

ok this got too long...might make a part 2 with the rest of my mutuals if I've missed any <3

@crippling-anxiety as baccarat rouge 540 by maison françis kurkdijan (would marry her anyway because she's so sweet and kind but with this 😵😵💘💖💓💗)

@redundantly-in-love as whispers in the library by maison margiela's replica (calm, comforting and such a warm presence and we're a perfect match because i love to talk and he loves to listen, i love u bubba haven't told you much of that nowadays <33)

@perssepeony as good girl supreme by carolina herrera (literally the opposite of what the name & perfume is. she's like a warm weighted blanket after a harsh and cold day. such a sweetheart who don't need no man, nandos babe hii <33)

@coquette-amor as lost cherry by tom ford (rara is exciting, fresh, dizzying and full of warmth and always always laughs during all the wrong times. also she's really really pretty btw i love her she's my mafia darling <33)

@wtfrroch as rolling in love by killian (chellie knows this is the perfume which defines her, she's a smart and really beautiful hoe (unlike me) who everyone loves, also explains why i have heart eyes for her all the time <3)

@neurogliadudette as midnight fleur by NEST (best person to go on museum tours, stargaze and geek out with about YA and all that too, shails us meeting when? :( also she's gonna be an amazing lawyer btw)

@kabiragf as coco noir by chanel (shat gives femme fatale vibes, she's already so very pretty and now she's giving all those exams to become a badass lawyer, she's also a good listener btw <33)

@wedefyauguryy as miss dior by dior (lizzy is the soft looking talkative mutual who loves her theatre teacher btw/s. she's one of the coolest and the cutest people i know and she reminds me of the moon!!)

@knivesgf as an air of despair by imaginary authors (listen anya is literally one of my favorite horror mutuals you know i had to give her this horror movie protagonist perfume. and as the movie goes, she may end up becoming the house or....who knows?)

@belovedbi as bitter peach by tom ford (literally my favorite, she's the moment she's my url namesake she's another smart mutual of mine she's the coolest mutual i have <3)

@themangopdf as angel eau crossière by mugler (ok so because ela reminds me of mangoes and every time i bite into one i think "hmm i should share this with ela" also you remind me of a warm spanish afternoon while you're watching cheesy telenovelas with your beloved <33)

@jongens2014 as poets of berlin by vilhelm parfumerie (me and merle's dynamics are always the one mutual who has good takes everytime and i just reply to it with #yeah #realness...also merle is one of the sweetest and the coolest mutuals ever and my mum loves her!!)

@icemaiden as amyris femme by maison françis kurkdijan (kaaju di is the well read, theory and alyosha karamazov posting, beautiful looking mutual of mine btw and this perfume immediately reminds me of her. also she has an excellent taste in jewellery btw.)

@girlbi-deactivated20220618 (lau????) as mojave ghost by byerdo (lau is the cute and smart mutual who loves cows and i love that about her, i love everything about her btw, she's one of my favorites <33)

@persimmonbaby as cleopatra by tocca (literally why i call her kanave because she feels like a dream to me. sweetest and justifiably the most popular one because she deserves that anyways, also her writings are out of this world! <3)

@hillhousegf as mad madame by juliette has a gun (my other favorite horror mutual, oh to feel the descent into madness after entering a house which looks completely fine but isn't. and in the end, she gets out but not before burning the house down and watching it burn while sitting by the road and holding an unlit cigarette)

@breadmp3 as rose of no man's land by byredo (amira is my pink mutual and this so reminds me of her, she's kind and sweet and literally the cutest mutual of mine btw and when she tags me in posts *heart eyes* <33)

@lovejar as her by burberry (literally a goddess among people she reminds me of the colour pink & a summer dream and she's the prettiest/coolest/smartest girl I've ever seen. also minnie's name is the cutest i'm jealous)

@ruesgf as neroli portrofino by tom ford (yeah she's a goddess and yeah she's a literal heartthrob and yeah she looks so good I'm in love with her and yeah she's pretty smart and beautiful at the same time and yeah-)

Any tips on writing Jack from Mojave?? 😅😅 I've researched him and all that but you write him SO amazing. Not just his speech pattern but his whole personality 😭😭

Jack sees himself as a predator, he sees himself as smarter than everyone else (that whole thing about his IQ). He’s a performer, a poet. He speaks lyrically and he has a tendency to draw grandiose allegory to his own perceived fate. He’s a believer in signs and in destiny, and he likes to think of his actions as moving the plot forward. In his mind, he is a Hamlet or a low-rent God of death. And he talks, he loves to talk about his past specifically. He gets violent when he sees someone else winning at his game. He claims to be above the need for money and fame, but he truly craves that power.

Also— a big tip I give to anyone researching how to write any character: Read. The. Script. You’ll see patterns in a character’s speech that isn’t evident from just hearing it.

Oh and for every 30 seconds of speech, he throws in at least one ‘brother’.

No More Cake Here | Natalie Diaz

#nativeamericanheritagemonth

–Mojave poet When my brother died I worried there wasn’t enough time to deliver the one hundred invitations I’d scribbled while on the phone with the mortuary: Because of the short notice no need to rsvp. Unfortunately the firemen couldn’t come. (I had hoped they’d give free rides on the truck.) They did agree to drive by the house once with the lights on— It was a party after all. I put Mom…

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When My Brother Was an Aztec by Natalie Diaz

A poet from the Mojave nation, Natalie Diaz comprises a strong contemporary voice in Native literature. Her debut poetry book When My Brother Was an Aztec (2021) details life on the reservation, the turbulence of loving her brother, the aztec and addict, and works to preserve the Mojave language.

Below are excerpts from When My Brother Was an Aztec with annotations done by me:

Scent Memory: Hove Parfumeur

I'm currently slated to take a train to New Orleans in two weeks. I have taken this train once before, last year, to spend a few days with my best friend and see the opening date of The Cure's North American tour. This year, we'll probably just hang out and enjoy the city. We're last on the list for Echo and the Bunnymen tickets. I love them, but if we don't go, there are worse places to be without concert tickets than New Orleans.

My best friend and I are unabashedly goth kids at heart. We love Bauhaus and Siouxsie, art and architecture, dead poets and their work, wandering graveyards together, crying on each other's shoulders. When we hung out with my younger sister for the first time, she dramatically tuned to me and said, "You're both just so", she put her hand to her forehead, "Melancholic!"

We wear it proudly.

I often talk about my perfume knowledge and memories with them. When we were planning our first trip to New Orlenas, we both stumbled upon the recommendation of one of America's oldest perfume houses, family run for four generations, now in a tiny shop on Chartres stree, Hove Parfumeur. My dear friend treated me to three dram vials of whatever I wished.

New Orleans is one of the only truly 'old' places in the United States (old is an extremely relative thing here), which is astounding considering the absolute gauntlet of challenges it has faced as an entity. I think Hove embodies that. Small, strong, distinct, and extremely hospitable, the little shop on Chartres street hosts a variety of scents that are all distinctly New Orleans. All of its facets represented in little vials.

Upon entering, the first thing I noticed were the stone floors. Much like everything in the quarter, there is no uniform pavement, watch your step. It's a beautiful space, with what I believe might be a rentable room on the second floor, someone was leaving to start their French Quarter afternoon as my friend and I arrived. All of the scents are pre-spritzed on testers for you to peruse, and they're available in a variety of different options: bubble baths, body powders (essential for dealing with being sweaty in the humid Louisiana climate). There are several historical recipes that have not been changed in years, evoking hoop skirts and southern belles, the raucous celebrations of Mardi Gras past, and paying homage to the voodoo roots ever present in New Orleans.

My three picks were as follows:

Kiss in the Dark is a lovely, light, spicy floral. It is the least egregiously spicy spice scent I've ever tried (and I love egregiously spicy). It is dark and feminine and lovely and its name suits it perfectly. Hove's website decribes it as "neither heavy nor light", which is remarkable for a perfume like this. I wore it almost immediately out the door. I also ended up pairing it with Le Labo's Rose 31 and it worked wonderfully.

Mantrap is a resinous spicy scent, also worthy of its name, I guess (I didn't trap any men with it, but I also didn't set that intention when I wore it). This vial travelled with me to California and worked well against all of the Baccarat Rouge and Mojave Ghost that clouds the elevators and sidewalks there. It feels a little dangerous, mayhaps a touch more edgy than many of Hove's other offerings. It has become my go-to goth nights scent, to perfume a night of dancing in heavy makeup and fishnets in a small room.

Flame is unusually described as "beautifully worn by dark redheads", which, I am. So I had to try this. It's heavy, bold, and extremely spice forward ( I guess I was really feeling the spices on this particular trip, but they are a usual suspect in my perfume lineup, so this was unsurprising). This was the scent that ended up on my neck during that beautiful Cure concert that we were in town to see. My favorite song by The Cure is their track for the ever iconic The Crow soundtrack, "Burn". It's a perfect scent for that song, and I was delighted when they played it that night. Delighted in that I burst into tears and had to be held up by my dearest friend, who completely understands how hard that song hits for me. "there wasn't anybody else I'd rather see that song with" they said. I did the same for them during "A Forest".

It's been a year and my vials are well loved. But what to do on a new journey, a different one? We know so much more about the city now, where we like to eat, what we like to do. What new scents will I take a peak at this time?

I love research, especially for travel. I love digging deep into something that fills my brain (hence why Desire Path even exists). So while bored at my dayjob I'll put together guides in Apple Maps, and pinpoint places that matter to me, why I want to do there, do deep research on restaurants I may not even try while in town, just laying down a grid of interest for my next adventure. Today I was looking through Hove's catalog, imagining what might scent the next trip. and here are some possibilities that I am very interested to test out when next I am on Chartres Street.

Valiant - what a word, what a thing to name a perfume! This is a near certain buy for me. Sandalwood and mandarin orange sound like a perfect combo for journeying through new parts of the city, and for keeping that brave flame I find when I travel going, longafter I return and go back to the day job. It also might be an nice contrast to my heavy spicy picks from last time. I think I'm going for more freshness and green this time around (which also helps keep spirits up in damp heat of New Orleans, there's a lot of forecasted rain for our time there).

Heliotrope - a note that is rare, and I have no idea why. Any vanilla and heliotrope fragrance has a permanent place on my perfume tray. So feminine, so lovely, so pretty. I look forward to sniffing Hove's take on this.

Rue Royale - just as Flame was suggested for dark redheads, Rue Royale is apparently suitable for fair brunettes, which tickles me. The only description, barring hair preference, for it on the website is 'dry and light' which I am always down to try. Again, probably nice for wandering the packed quarter.

Nude - I thought this might be a skin musk type of affair, something I usually love when travelling or going to concerts since it is less likely to bother anyone sitting around me, but it is described as a walk through a tropical garden with a hint of musk. The name is an aspiration, not a reality then. Love it.

Fascinator - this might be the southern belle fragrance that punk goth kid would love. It has that secret key to unlocking the southern gothic through scent: oakmoss. Seriously, if you need the withering belle energy, find your nearest oakmoss scent. It sounds rich and warm.

But who knows what will entice me when I'm finally back in such a unique place? That's the best part about perfume. Notes that I thought I understood will constantly reinvent themselves when put in the right position, viewed through a new context. It's a small magic happening all the time. And there is no better place to experience magic than New Orleans, fresh off the train, and with a friend who knows that too. I'm looking forward to it more than anything.

Some Indigenous Poets to Read

Disclaimer: Some of these poems deal with pregnancy, colonialism, substance abuse, murder, death, and historical wrongs. Exercise caution.

Tacey M. Atsitty [Diné] : Anasazi, Lady Birds' Evening Meetings, Things to Do With a Monster.

Billy-Ray Belcourt [Cree] : NDN Homopoetics, If Our Bodies Could Rust, We Would Be Falling Apart, Love is a Moontime Teaching.

CooXooEii Black [Arapaho] : On Mindfulness, Some Notes on Vision, With Scraps We Made Sacred Food.

Trevino L. Brings Plenty [Lakota] : Unpack Poetic, Will, Massacre Song Foundation.

Julian Talamantez Brolaski [Apache] : Nobaude, murder on the gowanus, What To Say Upon Being Asked To Be Friends.

Gladys Cardiff [Cherokee] : Combing, Prayer to Fix The Affections, To Frighten a Storm.

Freddy Chicangana [Yanacuna] : Of Rivers, Footprints, We Still Have Life on This Earth.

Laura Da' [Shawnee] : Bead Workers, The Meadow Views: Sword and Symbolic History, A Mighty Pulverizing Machine.

Natalie Diaz [Mojave] : It Was The Animals, My Brother My Wound, The Facts of Art.

Heid E. Erdrich [Anishinaabe] : De'an, Elemental Conception, Ghost Prisoner.

Jennifer Elise Foerster [Mvskoke] : From "Coosa", Leaving Tulsa, The Other Side.

Eric Gansworth [Onondaga] : Bee, Eel, A Half-Life of Cardio-Pulmonary Function.

Joy Harjo [Muscogee] : An American Sunrise, Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, A Map to The Next World.

Gordon Henry Jr. [Anishinaabe] : How Soon, On the Verve of Verbs, It Was Snowing on The Monuments.

Sy Hoahwah [Comanche/Arapaho] : Colors of The Comanche Nation Flag, Definitive Bright Morning, Typhoni.

LeAnne Howe [Choctaw] : A Duck's Tune, 1918, Iva Describes Her Deathbed.

Hugo Jamioy [Kamentsá] : PUNCTUAL, If You Don't Eat Anything, The Story of My People.

Layli Long Soldier [Lakota] : 38, WHEREAS, Obligations 2.

Janet McAdams [Muscogee] : Flood, The Hands of The Taino, Hunters, Gatherers.

Brandy Nālani McDougall [Kānaka Maoli] : He Mele Aloha no ka Niu, On Finding my Father's First Essay, The Island on Which I Love You.

dg nanouk okpik [Inupiaq-Inuit] : Cell Block on Chena River, Found, If Oil Is Drilled In Bristol Bay.

Simon J. Ortiz [Acoma Pueblo] : Becoming Human, Blind Curse, Busted Boy.

Sara Marie Ortiz [Acoma Pueblo] : Iyáani (Spirit, Breath, Life), Language (part of a compilation), Rush.

Alan Pelaez Lopez [Zapotec] : the afterlife of illegality, A Daily Prayer, Zapotec Crossers.

Tommy Pico [Kumeyaay] : From "Feed", from Junk, You Can't be an NDN Person in Today's World.

Craig Santos Perez [Chamorro] : (First Trimester), from Lisiensan Ga'lago, from "understory".

Cedar Sigo [Suquamish] : Cold Valley, Expensive Magic, Secrets of The Inner Mind.

M. L. Smoker [Assiniboine/Sioux] : Crosscurrent, Heart Butte, Montana, Another Attempt at Rescue.

Laura Tohe [Diné] : For Kathryn, Female Rain, Returning.

Gwen Nell Westerman [Cherokee/Dakota] : Dakota Homecoming, Covalent Bonds, Undivided Interest.

Karenne Wood [Monacan] : Apologies, Abracadabra, an Abecedarian, Chief Totopotamoi, 1654.

Lightning Round! Writers with poetry available on their sites:

Shonda Buchanan [Coharie, Cherokee, Choctaw].

Leonel Lienlaf [Mapuche].

Asani Charles [Choctaw/Chickasaw].

“The Earth Is Telling Us It’s Exhausted”: An Interview With Poet Natalie Diaz

“The Earth Is Telling Us It’s Exhausted”: An Interview With Poet Natalie Diaz

This interview with poet Natalie Diaz is an excerpt from We Are the Middle of Forever: Indigenous Voices from Turtle Island on the Changing Earth, edited by Dahr Jamail and Stan Rushworth. Natalie Diaz (Mojave/Akimel O’odham) believes words have, quite literally, physical energy. This is one reason she continues to work to preserve the Mojave language with its last remaining speakers. To her,…

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Native American/First Nations Woman Writer of the Week

NATALIE DIAZ

Coming at you with another Indigenous woman writer, we present Mojave and Latinx poet, former college and professional basketball player, and Indigenous  language activist, Natalie Diaz. Diaz is the author of two collections of poetry. Her most recent publication, Postcolonial Love Poem, published in 2020 by Graywolf Press, won her the 2021 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry and was a finalist for the National Book Award among many others. UWM Special Collections preserves a signed copy of Diaz’s first poetry collection, published in 2012 by the Copper Canyon Press, When My Brother Was an Aztec. This debut collection was the winner of the 2013 American Book Award for poetry as well as a being a Kessler Poetry Book Award finalist, and was also a 2012 Lannan Literary Selection. [Note: the inscription reads “For Golda Meir”; the UWM Library is named after Israel’s first woman prime minister, as Meir was raised and educated in Milwaukee and attended a UWM predecessor institution.] 

Born on the Fort Mojave Indian Reservation in Needles, California, Natalie Diaz is Mojave and an enrolled member of the Gila River Indian Community. Diaz expresses the deeply rooted historical culture found in tribal life in When My Brother Was an Aztec through her documentation of the persona her brother takes on as a fallen Aztec King of mythic power while struggling with addiction. She details her early life dealing with poverty on the reservation, forced assimilation, the bonds of family, witnessing her brother’s struggle with crystal meth, issues with racism off-reservation, and her own growth into adulthood where she explores her sexuality. The cover art for this collection is by Roberto Westbrook and portrays the character that Diaz’s brother identified as while struggling with his addiction. 

A speaker of the Mojave language, as well as English, and Spanish, Diaz utilizes all three languages in When My Brother Was an Aztec, beginning the book with a Spanish proverb, “No hay mal que dure cien años, ni cuerpo que lo resista,” which translates to “There is no evil that lasts a hundred years, nor a body that resists it.” In the struggle to keep the Mojave culture alive, Diaz has begun recording and transcribing the Mojave language with the last elder Mojave speakers in 2012 with the help of Arizona State University for the Fort Mojave Language Recovery Program. While working as an Associate Professor at Arizona State University in 2018, Diaz was named the Maxine and Jonathan Marshall Chair in Modern and Contemporary Poetry.

Author Photo is by Joseph Gidjunis.

See other writers we have featured in Native American/First Nations Woman Writer of the Week.

View more Women’s History Month posts.

– Isabelle, Special Collections Undergraduate Writing Intern

We acknowledge that in Milwaukee we live and work on traditional Potawatomi, Ho-Chunk, and Menominee homelands along the southwest shores of Michigami, part of North America’s largest system of freshwater lakes, where the Milwaukee, Menominee, and Kinnickinnic rivers meet and the people of Wisconsin’s sovereign Anishinaabe, Ho-Chunk, Menominee, Oneida, and Mohican nations remain present.

beneath the same stars

* no tumbleweeds roll  in this calm & dust puffs abate,  something about night air's moisture content; * cacti really do have a smell  ...of green & rejuvenation. * dual canteens in tow one filled with fire, one water  cause you never know, never know - just how & when a thirst may approach in an armadillo's stealthy, tiny plod... * Sadie said the SUV’s cargo unfoldment   would be perfect for this trip & she never lied, friend; beyond the rear-view’s vista, the world is way wide... the intermittent crow caws,  cicada & cricket’s cadence never calmed me so * & the sand ridge's foreplay with that soft, southern wind is just sweet love across the side of my neck & cheekbone, you? * when & if we get bored we'll out the backpacks & pillow to help cap a sojourn in style beneath the same stars you’ll find in your midnight sky back home. * 1/19 - lebuc - beneath the same stars * ( nightdreaming about the Mojave on a negative wind-chilled evening in Chicago...)