Please consider, say, symbolically buying me a latte every month and I will eventually send you a garment like one of these hand-upcycled shirts below. You can symbolically buy me a monthly latte or even a symbolic monthly beer by becoming my Patreon supporter.
Global Climate Strike update: I didn't make it to one single event to do any Vulnerability Vigils because I've been feeling crappy. But I wrote a poem and I made a little video for it. (The link is to Facebook because YouTube suspended my account, which I will address some other time).
Chip Chip Chip
Cripple U in the late 90s. Post-guru, pre-Lululemon.
Sitting with Victoria on the bottom bunk in one of the shared rooms. Those hospital blankets.
Kind, intuitive Victoria. She used to try to survive her commute by doing Type A alternate nostril breaths.
“What are you feeling?”
“There’s an 85,000-mile-thick wall. I’m trying to move it.” My scrawny arm pressing the cinder blocks. Body knew but I didn’t.
Serious mind fuck.
Years later. Mother. Performance artist. Cancer survivor. Thin edge of the wedge. Mover of culture. Oh, is that all?
These marches are part of moving the culture. Good. I wish I could feel celebratory. But it’s still chip chip fucking chip over here.