i don't what it is about today, a comment here, a nudge there, & suddenly there was a fire lit beneath my sweet ass. & here i am, writing to you. & here you are, reading my words. i'm sure if i studied my horoscope (yet again) i'd find the cosmic correlation.
i don't know if it's true for you, but this past week has been some kind of dreamtime magic spell thing for me, highlighted by my super duper early wake up call from spirit last wednesday. i have a witchy habit of waking up around 3am, which can sometimes be ok, but posed a bit of a challenge this particular wednesday because of my fancy (it's not fancy) new job that starts at 8:30am. my eyes opened with an ominous alertness, & the first thing i did was check the time. there it was, 3:30-something am. next, i did the other thing i do when i wake up, check my social media. this is when everything changed.
it was finished, the handmade print of my selfie-image, in all it's // our glory. a friend i chat with from time to time, & get to see about once a year, asked if they could use a photo of mine for their queer ancestry printmaking class exactly one week before. i was so touched & flattered, because it was "honoring the you [// me] here and the you [// me] that has always been here." i gave an enthusiastic yes. four days after my friend rebirthed this image into the femmeiverse, i am finally able to find words that feel some what adequate in describing what this image does for me // to me.
when i first saw it, i wanted to fold my body into a prayer & worship at the heart of this all knowing femme goddess. how do i say all this? i know that this is a print of one of my selfies, but something else came through--something undeniably holy & omniscient. maybe because it was created by someone who loves me in their queer ancestry printmaking class? i dunno, whatever spell is being cast by this image, i am here for it, for them, for this beautiful time traveling femmescientist babe of the femmeiverse, because i know they are here for me.
the only thing left to do on that early, early morning was exhale my last lonely exhale, for they had come back for me, my femme ancestor time traveling goddess. as i lay there on my mattress-on-the-floor bed, i slowly realized that there would be no more days of wondering if my prayers floundered, if they would be answered, or if any divine being actually gave a fuck about me. i stared at that benevolent face & knew that they knew that they would hold my precious prayers, that they would answer them, & that they gave a fuck about me. i stared at that benevolent face & knew they knew shit, important shit, shit you can only know once you've survived the unimaginable & tragic. i trusted that face instantly because i knew they would never lie to me, never sugarcoat when bitter truth was the better medicine, knew that they would never ask me to cut myself into pieces or swallow anymore shame. i also knew that they were the answer to my desperate prayers of "how the fuck do i live a life that loves me back? how the fuck do i bring springtime back to this body of mine?"
as a deatheating femme (i'll tell you more later, for now just come along with me), coming back to life, like LIFE LIFE, is sometimes difficult. you can't see me right now, but i'm making a what-the-fuck face because to say that this is "difficult" is minimizing that shit. it is fucking hard. as a femme babe time traveling genius survivor of unimaginable & tragic things, grief & i are friends. i can do grief work all day for days on end. i can navigate this terrible terrain & sit until something breaks softly open like a seed--usually the heart or the will--& then move back into the world of the living, but always making sure i don't venture too far. because, you know, grief & death & chaos are always knocking on my door & the doors of the ones i love. that's what happens when you come from people who survive unimaginable & tragic things x 1,000,000.
have you ever had super clarity about a situation that was not yours, like maybe a situation your friend is in, & they seek your advice? &, like, you totally know part of the answer? & you also know that if you told them the part of the answer that you know, it would be a little too much for them, so your broke it down into smaller pieces so they could handle it? i think that is what this femmescientist time traveling lettie goddess is doing for me. they're not giving me all the answers right now, but they're letting me know they got 'em, & they're gonna give 'em to me, one bite-sized piece at a time.
the smaller bite-sized answer pieces for "how does a deatheater femme bring springtime back to the body? joy?" translated to me getting up & prepping food that morning. everyone in the house got to have roasted red potatoes for breakfast. then i prepped a chicken thing with apples, rosemary, & onions to go into the slow cooker for dinner. then i devoted myself to my love affair with my brows & put together an outfit that mixed textures & patterns in ways that felt soft & daring. these are all things that made me happy, that brought a lasting warmth to these humming bones.
the following morning the spell of devotion continued. while cleaning the kitchen, disinfecting the stinky sink drain with apple cider vinegar & baking soda mixed with salt, making coffee & doing my laundry, i had an urge to make a honey mask with fresh thyme. i stripped every lil stem by hand, dropping the tiny leaves into the lil jar of amber & sweet, & mixed everything together with wooden fork. every stir & strip & drip felt like a prayer. i knew that i was in holy service of the me here & the me that has always been here, that this was pure femme worship. not only of them, but of myself.
print made by Sasha Solomonov, 2015