Figure Model

Remember a while ago when the topic of figure models came up? Y really liked what you told me. Y wish you could see this whole drawing, but this is all that fits on my butch's scanner.

This one place where Y worked, it was a fancy college in Detroit. Y knew all about it because Y wanted to go to art school (Pratt) but they wouldn't let me go out of the state, so Y checked this place out. It wasn't called exactly the name it is now - upgraded. Y got married (17) and went to Wayne State across the street. So this fancy place, you had to submit your portfolio to be considered for admission. When Y went to work there, Y expected that the students would be able to draw. OMG they were BAD. In a class, there would be maybe one or two who could draw, one or two who maybe would learn to draw, and the rest must have been in the autobody design department. Or they were being ripped off, like that draw this puppy school by mail. Y want to tell you all my stories about this job. And Y will. Just not now.

When and where did you ever mingle in the figure model milieu? Tell me all the times!!!

Y remember that a long time ago, Y told you that Y would send you a picture of my pretty doll, and Y did not forget.

Whose Yer Daddy?

If you have stumbled upon this post, you can hear this mix at whims.

Did you notice my true Daddy is on here?

Mannish Boy - Muddy Waters
I Wanna Be Your Dog - Iggy And The Stooges
Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-a-Lot
Fire - Ohio Players
Smoke Two Joints - The Toyes
Mighty High - Mighty Clouds Of Joy
I Walk On Guilded Splinters - Dr John
Trouble - Ray Lamontagne
Lonely Teardrops - Jackie Wilson
Shameless - Garth Brooks
Bo Diddly - Bo Diddly
Do You Wanna Funk - Sylvester
Jump In The Line - Harry Belafonte
Rubberband Man - The Spinners
The Way You Do The Things You Do - The Temptations
Donkey Butt - Twelve Gauge
Wang Dang Doodle - Howlin Wolf

Strange States of A Non-Affair

Why is it that when we communicate we are so so so often talking about communicating? Why don't you tell me something? For example, are you in danger of burning up again? Y would like to know the answer to that.

Y notice that whenever Y let you know something important about myself that Y never told you before, you just go on as if nothing has happened. Y wonder if you are trying to be polite, like how people try not to notice if someone has lipstick on her teeth. Y have let you in on some details about my life that many would find shocking ( shocking, ha ha ) and you never say a word, or ask for more info, or anything. This is part of the back and forth of everyday relating that Y so miss with you. Add it to the cues, voice inflections, body language (let me hear your body talk, your body talk....) that Y already complained about missing and it adds up to some frustration on my end. Y wonder what would happen if Y said, "Really, darling, you should know I am a man." Guess Y will never find out, because Y won't say that since Y am not a man. Plus everyone knows Y hate men. (Y don't really hate men but people are always telling me Y do.)

You are very busy, we can all see how much work you do. And then there is the work you do that you don't let us (or is it just me?) know about. The point is, Y am not asking for more of your time than you are willing or able to give me. But can it please be -ahem- quality time?

Welcome to My World

Y would like to get to know you.....

Yes, Y would.

Y sent that purple square for you, and the green/yellow luncheon napkin for me. Who is Leo Narducci? Couldn't resist that b/w to wrap the guinea feathers. Those 3d twats are milkweed pods. We hold them sacred and let them grow wherever they want because they host the Monarch Butterfly eggs and catapillars. Plus, when all the seeds blow away there are golden yoni hanging everywhere.

Once, long ago, Y found myself on Maui. There they grow everything good: coffee, onions, pineapples, passion fruit, aloe, hibiscus, cane, and of course: Maui Wowee. Everyone said: Maui no ka oi. But here is a song called Hawaii No Ka Oi. Anyway no ka oi is "the best". Really the best, better than everything else. Maui No Ka Oi came first, Y think, since there were t-shirts everywhere saying it. And, as we know, all culture originates on a t-shirt or bumper sticker.



Oh, that painting. Here's the whole story: Crayola crayons resist with Japanese ink. Then, to Kinko's on that weird corner in Berkeley where they had the first Cannon Color Copiers. That's what you got. A valuable antique color xerox. Y got it down so they would intensify the color to the point that it made a thick, pretty layer which looks better than the original drawing. Just ignore that stupid copyright thing. My work is to be used freely for all non-commercial purposes. It's called Fyre. And that signature name is my California name. So you can keep it private since Y don't live there any more. Y must have been in such a hurry when Y signed that, cause it's not at all my usual style of the time. Plus, Y know Y made the original at least in '89.

The poppies - hallucinogenic - does this have something to do with your friend M, the one with a beauty of a life? Got an interesting link there.

Y was so scared about that cyst because more than anything in the world, Y did not want to tell my mother that Y was going in for a mastectomy. She nursed my grandmother through hers. And now she is coping with my sperm donor who has lung cancer and he wants to LIVE! It is so strange to have to pick him up off the floor, fling him into a wheelchair and order him not to wear socks on a slippery floor. That's what Y did yesterday. He used to be smart ( and cruel ) but now he is utterly impotent. Freaky. Stressful. A slap in the face like what the bishop gave us to remind us that from there on in it would be lots of slaps we would be enduring. That fucker (both those fuckers, actually) hit me hard, too. My sponsor, whom Y was totally in love with, and whom Y never saw again after the pageantry, was the only thing that made me think twice about maintaining the correct decorum after the cone-head wallopped me. Ever since she's out of the picture, and Y maintain no decorum whatsoever.

Here's something that may amuse you. In my pissing, moaning, crying, flinging my corpus around, etc, for being banned from Butch-Femme.com both my darlings had the same response:
My Darling Butch: "Big deal, you got kicked off a website. You been kicked out of countries!

My Darling Son: "What is it called? Butch femme? Mom, you should own that site. (Me: Y can't argue with you) Well, you already got banned from a country."
Yes, Y studied the rules before and after. After, Y noticed that none of the rules were followed by anyone. Private ownership: a wonderous thing. Master of one's domain. The fate of others held in one's own hand. Or so it would appear. Y love power of ownership, too.