Started from the bottom… 

I’m self taught.

Yet, I have the audacity to call myself a photographer.


I started from the bottom. Mom’s old film camera and B&W film and things in the backyard. When things went digital I experimented with the things she taught me using an entry level digital camera. It was like going back to class—which is a funny story. The primer she gave me over the years was so thorough that I was summarily booted from one intro class. I already knew the material inside and out. Unfortunately, the class I needed was two hundred dollars above my pay grade.

So I turned to books, articles, and the good old street beat. From instant Polaroid, to Kodak point and shoot, to now, I’ve gone from simply trying to catch what is in front of me to actively trying to blur the line between record and art.

But it didn’t happen overnight. I had to start somewhere.

Too early… 

Pain, Fever Dream…


It’s 3:10 AM. I lay down in the evening thinking that I was going to be out a mere half hour but the next thing I knew I’m waking up to the same pain I fell asleep to. I’ve slept through my meds, and the only reason my temperature is as low as it is sits in my grade fridge—a high quinine rasberry-cranberry tonic water I mixed myself.

…different reason. I like the bitter bite of tonic.

I woke with pain a few hits minutes ago. My pills are hours late.

I hope I don’t oversleep…

Communication and me. 

Communication.

I have serious trouble detecting sarcasm in written word. As a result I tend to use the emoticons/emoji in written communications when I engage. It makes conveying tone in text difficult. Studies—albeit small ones—have shown that ending a sentence with a period conveys a hostile tone—something I rarely intend to do.

My “proper” structure, therefore, comes across as hostile without meaning to.

I therefore use emoticons/emoji to ensure that the proper tone comes through in my written text. But I have received push back for this as well. I was dismissed as “just some memeing girl.”

There are several things wrong with that statement but that’s for another time.

If anyone has a problem with this, it’s on them… Not me. I know me weaknesses. I know how to compensate.

Hangover. 

So This is a Hangover. Not a fan.

At Dad’s place with a cup of his “Hangover Coffee.”


I’m not doing so hot on my first booze hangover.


The first mistake was to drink four beers an hour in response to the flashbacks. You fix that shit with BENADRYL, dammit!

The second was the Michelob. That stuff is terrible. Starts off promising and turns into Dr. Bronner’s Tea Tree Oil Castile Soap on the finish—you can brush your teeth with it but don’t drink it.

(Note: DON’T DO THIS. This entire thing is a cautionary tale.)


I vacated the place a day later and hung over. It’s my first alcohol hangover… And that is why I made the Third Mistake of being hung over: I drank a glass of plain water.

…The reason they give people coffee for hangovers in the movies isn’t because it’s going to sober up people sooner. It’s because water hits the stomach like ice gravel and it’s coming right back up. LITERALLY DRINK ANYTHING BUT PLAIN WATER. Dr. Bronner’s Tea Tree Oil Castile Soap would be a better experience.


Did you know that if you don’t eat the next day that hangover isn’t going away? Yeah, neither did I. That’s why the Hangover Coffee. I STILL haven’t eaten… Not counting the meclizine tablets.


Stuff retrieval is imminent. Not sure about money or anything yet… Dad has suggested a certain nausea remedy, since the coffees aren’t killing it. I’ll take it.

…it occurs to me that I’ve not explained. Soon. 

To the Heckler in the comments today…

​”If that triggered you then you must have a hard time leaving the house because it’s everywhere”
Yes. I do. 
It’s everywhere. 
Your flip, assumed-cutesy dismissal is right. 
It’s everywhere, and it took years of therapy, more than one trip to the loony bin, and a daily cocktail of drugs to help me even get out of the house. It, as you said is everywhere. 
Do you, o flippant one, have the right to know what precisely It is?  I think no. You’ve really enough today—Including an attempted game of oneupsmanship bordering on the “not-all” and “splaining” playbooks. 
Your input was unneeded and unhelpful. 
And you should do better. 

Review: Jailbreaking the Goddess

I had been laid off. My apartment was full of something I was wildly allergic to, and a vicious injury basically kept me from doing anything more strenuous than sitting up for longer than fifteen minutes at a time, three times a day.

 

And I was just about to learn that the vision of the goddess that I had had for over a decade was steeped in patriarchal baggage.

 

“No way, nope, there is no possible…wait.”

 

The longer I thought about it, the more I realized this was right—the vision that we have of her has been locked into what man has had for her for years: a virginal maiden, a doting mother, and the wise old crone—and fairly often, a frightening one, to hear men tell of it.

 

Where was the woman in her goddess?

 

There is something lacking in this vision of the goddess, but until I this book fell into my hands, I had no idea how to get past that limited view. Lasara Firefox Allen takes that limited view and breaks it into pieces in Jailbreaking The Goddess as she throws you first headlong into the worlds of both feminism and a new world in which the goddess is not threefold, but fivefold, and no longer bound to biology and linearity.

 

Throughout the book’s chapters and exercises, we are introduced to both the faces of the goddess in this new revisioning—Femella, Potens, Creatrix, Sapientia, and Antiqua—as well as famous and notable women and even goddesses who have embodied each of these faces in history both recent and past. But it’s not just about the information. While each face of the goddess is explored, a bit of the mental programming around the old vision is broken away, and the energy begins to feel different—not all at once, but gradually. Soon enough I began noticing the difference in the energy, noticing the influences and identifying them in different areas of my life; a project would have the childlike but unfettered feel of Femella in and through it; a sudden discovery would have the lightning strike of Potens all through it; disentangling myself from a difficult situation would have both threads of Antiqua and Sapientia in it.

 

And for the first time in a long time, She began to feel real to me again.

 

As a non-binary person of color, this was a very important realization. Far too many interpretations of the Goddess and goddess spirituality take a strange, alienating stance on the transgender and gender-nonconforming, but not this goddess. In fact, a strong point is made on this, as after the examinations of the faces, the work on decolonizing and rewilding begins, with a focus on taking things back from the toxic influences that have had a hold on them for so many years—and yes, this includes the patriarchy (#smashpatriarchy). Exclusion has no place with the Goddess, and here we see that she can welcome and hold all, no matter where they stand in life and what they have to do. To feel welcomed again was phenomenal, a welcome change from what had happened.

 

In Jailbreaking The Goddess we learn lessons at once profound and occasionally cheeky, while at the same time learning about ourselves and how to potentially change the world around us, and the way that it comes to us is presented in such an organic manner that reading it, you might not realize you’ve learned something.

 

If you’ve been a bit put off with the way the Goddess has been set up to you…it’s time to come home.

 

Jailbreaking the Goddess drops July 8th at your local bookstore.

​You don’t need “Straight Pride” or “Heterosexual Pride” day, month week, or any time that I can think of. 
No one has been discriminated against because they were straight. 

No one has had their experiences and identity erased for being straight. 

No one has been the target of a massacre for being straight. 

Weddings, marriages, cakes—godsdamned cakes, pastry!—aren’t systematically denied to you for being straight. 

Straight people are not arbitrarily told they’re going to hell for existing

They are not sent to “pray away the straight” reprogramming torture camps. 

They are not disowned for being straight. 

Straight people are allowed to exist unbothered unnoticed, unharassed, unjudged—and people want a celebration for this unearned privilege

No. 

You do not get a present for living on the default setting

Have several seats. Listen. Learn. 

Learn and listen to your LGBTQIA friends and learn why we need ours, and why trying to take away from it is beyond shameful.

We celebrate who are gone. We celebrate who paved our way. We celebrate who lived to make inroads. 

That is why we are Proud.