if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3
Three random facts about me:
1) I can imitate a lot of different animal sounds. Started because I had a stutter and refused to speak to people as a kid unless I had to but I still wanted to communicate. I've gotten birds at the zoo to respond to me before, which was both surprising and funny.
2) I can dismantle, fix, and reassemble several types of industrial paper towel dispensers, as well as toilet paper holders, courtesy of my old job. Not very impressive to most people, but my partner appreciated me telling them how to fix their broken one at work.
3) I used to take pottery classes and made a lot of random mugs and plates. I've kept very little of it but would love to be able to start doing it again.
Thank you for asking! Hopefully I haven't shared these before; if I have, feel free to ask for new facts.
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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Honestly, I'm very excited to find out what happened to Caleb and Beau, but specifically because Ludinus's current status is WILD for Caleb's epilogue in particular. It means his boyfriend is basically free and clear of everyone who has explicit material knowledge of the deal he made. It means the goal he planned to dedicate his life to is basically complete within six years. It means that virtually no one left on the Assembly cares much what kinds of changes he makes to Soltryce from here on out.
Ludinus is on the moon and probably not coming back, given the general expectations of the heroic fantasy genre, and the rest of it is a whole lot of "not Caleb's problem".
What does this man even do with the rest of his life?
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Something that I need people to understand, especially on this hellsite. Is that oppression does not depend on who you actually are.
It depends on how the world sees you.
If the world sees you as X identity. They will treat you as X identity, whether you are or not. If the world sees that you are not X identity, but they can use the oppression of X identity as a cudgel to make you act the way they want you to? They will use it.
Oppression is NOT dependent on who you actually are. It depends on how the world sees you. It depends on how people see you and what they decide to put on you because of that.
Oh. And when someone experiences a form of oppression that is NOT based in the reality of who they are? It's still that kind of oppression. It's not "misdirected"- it is still that kind of oppression being leveraged to maintain the current social climate.
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The post that was screenshot: [Link]
This post with the reply by catgirlforeskin: [Link]
A convenient post that I wrote going into it about my gender yesterday: [Link]
obviously I would suggest reading the original post, as it has context for what was being said in those screenshots.
ahem
So Like, We Just Hate People Who Aren't Binary Huh?
We See Someone Come Out About Being Genderqueer And Talk About Their Own Presentation And Sense Of Self On Their Own Post And It's Immediately Responded To With "You're Fetishizing Trans Women By Thinking That You Have Anything In Common With Them."
let's review !
1: I made a Vent Post where I responded to a Cis Person, I made my own post and crossed out their username because I didn't feel like they did anything Wrong, but I wanted to discuss my feelings on it anyways!
2: these feelings were that it's upsetting that people don't seem to think about the trans perspective when discussing gender Stuff, or how marginalization in general plays a factor when discussing representation in media.
3: within Two Notes I got someone crawling into my replies and dms to talk down to me for being trans masc, so I expressed frustration that That's something that happens to me.
4: THEN somebody responded to That to insist that me expressing frustration about people lashing out at marginalized men was harmful to trans women.
you'll notice ! I was a trans person speaking about my own feelings on my own post, responding to a cis person and someone who explicitly harassed me. I did not mention trans women in this post, because it was a vent post. I explicitly say in my response to that post different kinds of trans people venting about their experiences does not imply or take anything away from other sorts of trans people.
so ! what we're left with is !
1: people being Furiously Angry that I would say that all trans people are capable of being hurt and that all trans people deserve to speak about their feelings, enough to rip things out of context and lie
2: People Just Unironically Saying With Their Entire Chest That A Trans Person Who Considers Themselves Both Masculine And Feminine Is Transmisogynistic, Because Being Genderqueer Implies That You Don't See Trans Women As Real Women. Somehow.
so like. where do we go from here huh.
firstly, there's an awareness. I need people to be Aware that this is something that is happening. that we've reached a point where people hate trans mascs so much that they're willing to tear them down for talking about Their Feelings in response to Cis People.
that we've reached a point where people get so blindly Angry when someone suggests that trans people should all be treated with dignity and respect that they're willing to act like this.
I Need people to share things like this, even if it's not this post specifically. because I Need People To Understand the kind of vitriol and hatred that trans mascs are facing simply for being visible At All.
if people aren't aware then they Will end up supporting and spreading this kind of harassment without realizing.
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Everyone on this website talks about the choice to not have children to end the terrible cycle of familial abuse or whatever but I feel like nobody on here wants to talk about the more mundane and pressing reality of wanting children but being paralyzed by the understanding that bringing them into our current society inherently means traumatizing them in some small way simply because there are no good options.
Like. Dont want to put a child through public school because public school sucks, but homeschool is isolating and private school is not an option for ppl with no money. Dont want to raise a child with a forced gender but attempting to raise a child neutrally may socially isolate them or cause authorities to question your parenting methods. Don't want to raise a child in an isolated suburb where they have nowhere to travel independantly but affordable housing with ample room for families in city environments are basically nonexistent.
It can be hard not to feel judgemental of yourself for wanting to bring a child into the world at all under these conditions. Unlike with refusing to continue the "cursed bloodline" or whatever, there's just no personal pride one can take in deciding not to have kids because the world would force me to make choices that hurt them irregardless of my desires.
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