More Adventures To Be Had

WARNING: HANGOVER RAMBLE AHEAD

Ahh, life is mostly good at the moment! Aside from a few ouchy conflicts with folk that I would dearly love to resolve, things are pretty much flowing along nicely. Have been getting enough work to keep myself solvent. LezBeanz works for a ticketing company and has given me her plus one for Barry Humphries next Tuesday night- should be a very silly night for the two of us. Heading down to Camp Betty, to stay in the home of a very lovely young lady. Tonight hanging out to have dinner with SharntSayNo and hopefully watch the whole Season 3 of Scrubs. Acupuncture tomorrow (one of my favourite new indulgences). Have a spiffing new tattoo. Performance work developing slowly but surely, and some nice collaborative pieces slowly forming. Upon returning from debauchery and delirium south of the border, will be housesitting my friends' place in the Southern Highlands for a couple of weeks or so (two cute dogs to walk and play with, spa, gorgeous gardens, a fully equipped dungeon at my disposal-anyone up for a visit?, broadband, cable, nice warm electric blankie on the spare bed). Planning to read a lot, write a lot, do lots of nice walks and eat really well, just try to chill out and watch lots of DVDs and really look after myself. Have found the details for a very good Vipassana retreat in Blackheath, so once work settle down in Augsut might treat myself to ten days or so of silence and contemplation before settling back down to my studies. And getting used to my single state gradually, with far less twinges of loneliness and regret. Feeling much more secure that I still am worthy and loved by many.

Queen's Birthday Gurlesque

I shan't be in town for this one (going to Camp Betty in Melbourne) but for those of you in Sydney over the long weekend:

GURLESQUE IS PROUD TO ANNOUNCE ONE MORE SHOW !!SUNDAY JUNE 10TH QUEENS BDAY LONG W/E.IMPERIAL HOTEL ERSKINEVILLEBOASTING NAMES SUCH AS KIRA HULA LA.. SINDY RAY..EMMA &THE TEACHER ... SUZI Q..SCARLET FEVER..GINGER SNAP...ELIZABETH BURTON ..SEX INTENTS & GLITA SUPERNOVA. gogo gurls and the fabulously unique DJ SVETA spinning tunes that will keep you on the pulse of reality.DOORS OPEN 6.30PM,SHOWTIME 7.30PM.

Sly Me To The Moon

Well, there you have- I have at long last broken my Sly Fox peformance virginity! Not that many people where there to witness it, as for some reason most of my friends piked at the last minute and most of the usual faces I see week after week were absent. Big big big thanks to those who were there and cheering (you know who you are- Scrag, Ali, Wife, the USyd queer crew, MimInBoots, Lee, Schmingi...not sure if my secret initialled admirer was there after all the comments, but if so zie did not make zirself known and thus the mystery continues). Still, not having a front row full of my nearest and dearest was not such a bad thing in that it felt more like a 'real' show, in that I was having to play to an audience who didn't know me or my work or my humour and couldn't rely on those friendly faces to get me through.

Think both shows worked quite well, in different ways. The first one was to The Cramps' 'Garbageman'. Came onstage in boots and socks, boxer shorts TCM gave me yonks ago, taped-up nipples (though apparently the tape was uneccessary) and a yellow hanky around my neck. Picked up two full garbagebags, swaggered about with them, ripped the first one open and emptied a selection of items onto the floor. Sorted through the junk, putting on a variety of things- tshirt with 'trash bag' scrawled on it in yellow and white paint, leather skirt with yellow spraypaint dripped down it, frangipani lei. Sniffed a 'dirty' adult nappy and threw it into the audience, stuffed newspaper down my boxers, ate a banana, stuck a beanie on my head (and possibly my blonde wig?), fooled around with a rubber chicken and generally just got dirty and silly. Stuck a 'bloody' tampon in my mouth and then spat it into the crowd. Bit into a couple of condoms full of milk and water. Ripped open second bag, dragged out Mechtild the lactating love doll (well, not currently lactating) and a bottle of chocolate sauce, tipped the sauce over myself and rolled around with Mechtild and then can't really remember how it all ended other than I was very messy and sticky and the stage apparently took a while to clean up!

Second show was considerably darker, using the Birthday Party song 'She's Hit'.

There is woman - pie in here
Mr. evangelist says she's hit
The best cook ya ever had
Ya can't blame the good woman now, Dad

Walked slowly through the crowd in boots, long white nightgown with red ribbons at my waist, black wig in red and blue curlers and a blue headscarf, red lippy/blue eyliner/pink rouge and carrying a foil-wrapped cake tin full of cherry jelly. Stage was set with a high table, on which was placed a chopping board, a knife, couple of spoons, measuring jug full of more red jelly, a bowl of apples and strawberries and a pair of boxing gloves. Came onto stage, placed cake tin on table.

Uptown one hundred skirts are bleeding
And Mr. Evangelist says
She's hit ev'ry little bit
She's hit she's hit

Started cutting up apples and strawberries, chewing them and spitting them into the cake tine, poured jelly into mouth, chewed and spat that into tin too. Offered it to the audience, put back on table. Took ribbons from my waist, wrapped my hands in them. Put on gloves, dipped them into the 'pie' and punched myself in the face, breast, crotch. Fell on floor, crawled about a bit, stumbled slowly back through audience to the dressing room. Didn't work as well as I had hoped, few issues with the way the stage was set (my doing-stage manager was perfect) and the timing, but still not too bad and a few of the stranger 'artier' folk seemed to appreciate it. Was pleased that I managed to stay in character for the duration, didn't start to giggle or make too much eye contact with crowd- was wanting to be more of a vacant housewife who was almost numb. Liked the show overall, and think I may develop it for a future Hellfire piece (or othere vent). Needs a bit of work but I believe it could be truly stunning. Overall, not a bad night.

And that was just the beginning. My friend Mistress O'Mayhem, aka Scrag, was in attendance, and it was the first time I had seen her since she returned last week from a six month jaunt overseas. Needless to say, we had MUCH catching up to do, which we achieved by consuming all of my free drinks and then some, dancing with total abandon, little rhythm and a lot of lewdness, eating large amounts of chocolate, attempting to do a pissing photo shoot in an alleyway (camera flash wouldn't work though- boo! hiss!), drinking peach schnapps (?) and tea with her loud and lively musician neighbours, then stumbling to her room to skankify her sheets and wake up her housemates. Eventually we slept for a while, then scoffed a bacon and eggs and mushrooms and tomato fry-up for brunch, downed two cups of coffee, and spent most of the arvo showering, lying around, having more Hitachi joy and more chocolate and generally being lushy libertines. Welcome back Scrag- you have been sorely missed!

Adult Breastfeeding At Work

The New Zealand Herald reports 'Scholar suspended after allowing breastfeeding of adults':

JERUSALEM - A religious ruling by an Islamic scholar permitting women to breastfeed adults with whom they work has led to his suspension from Al-Azhar University in Cairo, the world's leading Sunni university.Dr Izzat Attiya had last month issued a fatwa offering his bold suggestion as a way around the prohibition in Islamic religious law against a woman working in private premises with a man who is not her close relative. Breastfeeding, he argued, would create a familial relationship under Islamic law."Being together in private means being in a room with the door closed so that nobody can see them," Attiya explained to Al-Watani Al-Yawm, after his ruling sparked outrage."A man and a woman who are alone together are not [necessarily] having sex but this possibility exists and breastfeeding provides a solution to this problem [by] transforming the bestial relationship between two people into a religious relationship based on [religious] duties." n Islamic tradition, breastfeeding at infancy establishes a degree of familial relationship between nurse and child even if there is no biological relationship - a wetnurse, for instance, is forbidden from marrying a man she had nursed as a child. Attiya argued that if an adult male is nursed by a female co-worker it would permit them to work side-by-side without raising suspicion of illicit sex. It would even permit the woman to remove her headcover and expose her hair in the man's presence.

two small tufts

for years i have rarely bothered to fell the forest from my legs, and my bush is usually most bushy. my eyebrows grew wild for years, and yet for reasons i have never fathomed i have shaved my armpits ever since i first sprouted hair there. i mean, ALL of these years, rarely going for more than a few days between! as in, i have NEVER seen how long my hair gets if left to its own devices. this has changed recently, primarily because i kept forgetting to grab the razor when i was in the shower, and so now have two extra small tufts... if i do become seriously overgrown and get entangled to the point that small children, animals and other woodland fairies become lost in there, please send a lumberjack or a pair of secateurs?

Fiore de Henriquez

The ever-amazing Ali just sent me this link to an article by Jan Marsh about Fiore de Henriquez, an extraordinary sculptor by the sounds of things... Here is an excerpt to whet your appetites, but please, read the whole piece! I almost cried with joy:

"I was two years old when I start drawing, always strange things. They say I was crazy and maybe it's true. I always have periods of suffering, of feeling too much, like I want to throw myself down the mountain." Twins, doubles, siblings and pairs are another repeated motif, in stone and bronze sculptures dotted all around Peralta's narrow pathways and steps. Together, these dyads and polymorphic figures provide the key to their creator's hermaphrodite nature. For physically as well as psychically, Fiore is part-female and part-male; or, in her own words invoking Ovid's account of the son of Hermes and Aphrodite, "semi-gods: halfway between the gods and man".

"My mother used to call me a monster. She said to Margot Fonteyn's mother, 'Why have you such a beautiful daughter and I have this?' But I didn't feel like a monster. A third sex, yes; but I was quite honoured: I felt I was part of the Greek legends."

Fiore's androgynous identity encompasses more than gender duality. Italian-born, she has been a British citizen since 1953, and divides her time between Tuscany and London, where she has a small studio near Sloane Square. Hermaphroditism is a rare and seldom-documented condition. Today, children with uncertain sexual identity owing to ambiguous genitalia are subject to early medical intervention involving surgery and hormones, although some have subsequently become angry with such imposed "gender assignment", which often resolves nothing. Fiore's case is different from this and from transsexuality. Raised as a girl, since puberty she has had the characteristics of both sexes, simultaneously. "My poor mother did not deserve to have a child like me. She always wanted to dress me in velvet, with bows in my hair that I hated. Then, when I was 13 or 14, I woke up one night with a peculiar pain in the abdomen. I thought, this must mean menstruation is starting. Which indeed it was, but together with this, came out another thing, like a small penis. I thought, 'Oh, my God, what is that?' It was most extraordinary. After that, I felt like a boy, never like a girl. Some of the time, this thing stayed inside; but if I needed help, if I was in trouble, if I was angry, yes, then it came out. No, I kept it secret, from my mother, my father, everybody. I must say I didn't like it later when these bosoms developed; I thought it was very undignified: I wanted to cut them off. But no! You don't change what God has made. I prefer to let nature take its course. So from then I decided to be proud."

Photo of Fiore from lifeinlegacy.com:

'Internationally acclaimed sculptress whose work included life-sized statues, monumental public commissions and nearly 500 portrait busts of such figures as Queen Mother, Laurence Olivier, President Kennedy, and even a young Oprah Winfrey, whose sculptures often reflected gender dualities and tortured mythical figures, and who kept a painful secret of her own all of her life, only recently revealing that she was a hermaphrodite who struggled for much of her life with gender identity, died on June 5 (2004) at the age of 82.'

More photos and quotations from Jan's conversations with Fiore at Art and Androgyny.

A Monster Is Born

At approximately 1:30pm yesterday (Tuesday 29th May 2007) the Monster Of Ravenna was reborn. After a two hour labour Megan, aka Maggot, of Inner Vision Tattoo on Crown St Surry Hills brought zir into existence. Very little blood, no cursing or cussing, only minor pain and niggling from time to time, and took far less longer than I expected. Indeed, I almost fell asleep at one point, was so warm and fuzzy and blissed out... Considering zie is inked right along my spine (claw just above my bumcrack), and maybe fifteen centimetres or so tall, with shading and colour, it was a remarkable easy procedure to endure, in some way almost disappointingly so (painslut? moi?).

Ain't zie sweet? And unlike the first time zie was born, there ain't no nasty Pope going to starve zir to death! (For further explanation of the Monster's tale, go to my post on Sep 22nd last year 'Everyone Love You When You're BiNary).

The Icarus Project- Call For Zine Submissions

Nat In The Hat is involved in this project, which is good enough for me! This is quite a late notice, but they are most keen for submissions so if you have ANYTHING lying around or are good at working quickly please send your work in. Here are the details straight from the Hat's email:

The Sydney Icarus collective ( www.theicarusproject.net) is calling out for contributions for our first Zine that will be launched at Camp Betty over the queen's bday long weekend. ( www.campbetty.net ). We want to include as many voices as possible, be it in the form of art, stories, poetry, film reviews, personal experiences, political discussion, comics etc.

Who?We are a diverse group of people interested in creating a stigma-free space in our community/ies in which to share resources, support and advocate around mental health issues.
How/when/where?Our next meeting is on the 29th of may at NewQ (www.newq.net ) 22 enmore rd where we'll be compiling the zine. It would be great to have contributions emailed by the 29th or brought along to the meeting but we can still incorporate your work up until the 3rd of June. To submit or ask questions you can reply to sydneyicarus@lists.riseup.net.

Why?Many people suffer distress and feel isolated, often as a consequence of living in a mad and unfair world. There are limited mental health services available to people who are not affluent, and medication is cheaper than talking therapy. When accessing what mental health services are available, members of radical communities frequently have their identity and/or lifestyle targeted as the source of their distress. This is none too surprising considering the history of the mental health system being used to police deviance from social norms, for example homosexuality was listed as a mental illness in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual) until as recently as 1987, and Gender Identity Disorder and Transvestic Fetishism continues to be a classification. Having a supportive community is important in helping people defend their identity/politics to themselves and to health care professionals when in a vulnerable situation and to put their energy into staying well. Spaces free from stigma allow people to make positive decisions about their health and to fight for their rights. This zine hopes to promote the creation of such spaces by engaging a dialogue around mental health issues in our community/ies.

Slyly Foxing

Rumour has it that a certain Zoo will be doing two shows (one in the 10:30 set, one in the 11:30 set) tomorrow night at the Sly Fox in Enmore. Zoo has never performed there before, if you don't count a striptease proposal to SauerKraut a few years back, and is a teensy bit nervous about doing so for some reason. Ah, nothing like a bit of stage fright/pre-show jitters to get one's blood pumping!

So come down before 9pm for cheap cocktails, have a game of pool and then settle down up front for a good dose of old-fashioned filth and frivolity. Note: if you do intend to sit near the front, its probably not a good idea to wear white. Trust me on this one.

Hmm, and if my anonymous, flirty and strangely quiet blog-commenter be reading this then now is a good time to say hello :)

Oh, and lastly, if you ask nicely Zoo might just show you her brand-spanking-new artwork. Monstrous needle and ink joy!

Chew My Cud, Cowboy

Am one delighted, exhausted, dreamy little Zoo today! Old Mac Bad Dog had a farm yesterday, and on that farm zie had:

The Holy Bovinity. My outfit: Old vinyl platform boots that I almost threw out ages ago, painted with white cow spots, love heart/ star with 'Mad/Cow' across the front and 'Moo/Zoo' across the back. Mesh overskirt. Frilly knickers, fishnets, white suspender belt with black and white tail attached, arm thingies made out of black stockings painted with more cow spots. Two stuffed cow heads attached to the breasts of a black and white gingham shirt. And my MooZoo mask and half black, half white wig with the wored plaits (both as seen in HF show). And after all that it didn't occur to me to take a photo on MY camera, though plenty where taken by other folk.

Farmyard Freaks. The rest of the crowd and crew: Buxom Wench looked like she'd been rolling in the hay, all rosy cheeks and spilling out of her checked shirt. Gaylourdes made the cutest saddest sweetest little lamb, complete with sprig of rosemary. Amongst the rabble there were at least a couple of scarecrows, dozens of cowboys and cowgirls, a man in camos wearing a haystack, a bag of manure, plenty of CWA types, LOTS of other cows, a few pigs, a divine boy wearing a red leather head harness with cock's comb (*gasp*), a chicken, some Amish folk, and tons of bears (who told me 'yes, they were happy to be farmed *wink*').

Got to the venue around 10:30am to help with set up. The crew was fantastic, with lots of my friends volunteering too- as is usually the case. Spent lots of time with a screwdriver, a pair of snippers and a stanley knife, removing large sections of shadecloth and generally dismantling inconvenient structural elements. Strung up lights and lightboxes and gels. Stuck gold shiny fabric to a table, then attached a large paper fake cow's head to it, decorated with garlands of flowers. Got dirty and dusty and gritty and grimy and loved every minute of it.

Had been up since 5:30 to do the sparrow's fart shift at work, so by the time had finished setting up was almost too knackered to get into my outfit. Still, struggled into it just before the party started at 3pm, grabbed a beer and lay out in the sunshine on a big stripy furry rug. Perked up a little, and spent the next 7 hours or so boozing and schmoozing and dancing and downing beer and trying not to pee on my tail or dip my plaits in my drink sidling up to people to ask seductively 'hey cowboi, wanna chew my cud?' (which got a variety of responses). Music was incredible, the dancefloor flirtations were delicious, and I found myself tipsy and giggly and happily tucked in in my jimjams (alone) by 12:30. Heaps of my friends were heading off to Phoenix for Loose Ends and begging me to go, but, you know, my bed was the only place I wanted to be! Content. Sometimes it is nice to just stop when you have had enough and not be greedy...

Menage A Trois

Went to watch the finals of The Newtown's film festival last night, won by Glita etc with Silent But Deadly, after boozing and schmoozing at a Uni affair. Somehow managed to find myself seated in the cinema seats onstage, drinking free Stella and scoffing free popcorn, which was all rather pleasant. Looked down into the crowd to see my last boy-fling chatting to the boy I dallied with Inqui and the boi I swapped saliva with for half of Kooky the other night. Made me smile...

No Really, On A Brighter Note

Things to be happy about today:
* Got to see the proofs of the last lot of MooZoo photos (the B/W 'arty' ones) last night and they are gorgeous!
* The air is crisp and clear this morning, sun is shining and it just feels like it may be snowing in the mountains! Could see my breath when I turned up to work, which always makes me childishly excited.
* Heading to visit my parentoids this afternoon to watch cable, eat lots, get pampered 'cos I'm sickly, read the papers, curl up on the lounge with a blankie and the heater and doze for hours. Oh, and chat with my folks too!
* I am wearing my favourite faux fur coat, ocelot print. Its big and loose and has beautiful fuzzy buttons, and when I wear it I feel like one of those dogs whose skin is too big for its body, sleek satin-lined fur slinking over bones and muscles...
* I have a Lindt dark chocolate Easter egg in my pocket. Its packaged in black foil, with a white lace design and gold print, very Gothic *g*. Its the last one I have, and am loathe to open it. I will though, on my way back to work, as I know the creamy treat that awaits and can barely contain myself.
* Has the most fabulous acupuncture treatment last night, from the back of my head to the sides of my feet. Melt. My acupuncturist is a goddess!

On A Brighter Note

(Now, none of you go taking this the wrong way now, its a questioning not an accusation or complaint or put-down, and yes, I readily admit that I'm mad as a cut snake too, no question there...)

Its been disturbing me lately that I am surrounded by so much unhappiness. So many friends who are depressed, medicated, not coping, strung out, alcoholic, chemically dependent. I don't know how to deal with it sometimes, everyone is full of stories about their days of addiction or the years they spent lying in bed or their history of abuse or the times they tried to overdose, there are scars on every second wrist and anti-depressants in every second bathroom cabinet... Yes, we laugh a lot. We create, we write, we perform, we invent, we question, we dance, we sing, we debate, we discuss. We are vibrant, dynamic, intelligent, articulate, thoughtful, generous. We support each other, build communities, share survival strategies and skills and workshop our experiences, give each other massages and cups of green tea and vegan chocolate cakes. But so many of us are still so very very sad, still wrestling the black dog each and every day, still struggling just to get out of bed in the morning (or even afternoon), still having panic attacks underneath the sheets or popping pills just so that we can leave the house.

I know that these things are major issues for all sorts of people, but its my immediate friends and family that are my main concern now. I don't want us to implode, to destroy ourselves from within, to eat our own, to play our insecurities and injuries onto others who share them.

Not The Man You Think I Am

End of the pier, end of the bay
You tug my arm, and say:
"Give in to lust, give up to lust
Oh heaven knows we'll soon be dust ..."

Oh, I'm not the man you think I am
I'm not the man you think I am
And sorrow's native son
He will not rise for anyone
And pretty girls make graves

Oh ...I could have been wild and I could have been free
But nature played this trick on me
She wants it now
And she will not wait
But she's too rough
And I'm too delicate

- The Smiths
'Pretty Girls Make Graves'

Somebody theorised recently that the reason I engage in a sort of 'freak' aesthetic, ie all tattoo and piercing and shaved head and face cutting and no bra, was that I was not confident enough with my own attractiveness to be a more usual kind of womanly entity. As if I my venture into less 'traditional' physical presentations was simply a way of deflecting some sort of faulty femininity. At least, that was how I interpreted the comment. And perhaps not very suprisingly, this bugged me more than a little!

Not sure exactly what bugged me though. I mean, the implication that 'you could look so pretty if you just wanted to and believed in yourself' was more than a little patronising. I do like to believe that I have moved on a little from being some greasy angsty teen hiding behind a long fringe and a baggy t-shirt *lol*. Also the implication that I identify as female, and am obviously not a butch woman, so therefore I must secretly harour an urge to be a girly-girl 24 hours a day and if only I'd just take off those steel caps and slip on some kitten heels I could self-actualise seemed a little odd. All of this just gets so confusing for me at times! I mean, I like to play with butches and bois and boys, but I very rarely particularly want to identify as femme. Is it my only option? I have had butch partners insist on my femme-ness to reaffirm their butch-ness, and femmes insist that because I don't want to fuck femmes I must secretly want to be one...

Birds Of A Feather

See a feather, pick it up
All that day you'll have good luck

-Traditional

I picked up a magpie feather in the park this morning, and found the end of it full of blood. A self-inked quill, driping at the slightest pressure! Not being privy to much ornithological knowledge, it did make me rather curious as to WHY though- have never come across this before. Any ideas? Whatever the cause, something about it was incredibly sexy, reminding me of hours spent supergluing feathers into the ends of needles, to be unplucked into my skin, before playing bird to my gf's leopard, or Siren with feathered chest and face...

Clothes Maketh The Man

Saturday night met up with a sweet boy, M, who I have often seen around the place and chatted to but never hung out with enough, and we headed to The Fitting Room (Fashionanarchy thingy I mentioned before) to drink champagne, try on silly outfits and shmooze about being ridiculous watching Christa Hughes and The Fondue Set. I had an outfit drama before heading out, but somehow it all came together in many many layers of mostly furry animal print (gloves, skirt, tights, coat, hat). And I bought a very fabulous reversible 'circus style' jacket there, red satin one side and turqouise cotton on the other, with much sequinning around the collars and cuffs. Think it will look most fetching with my top hat and a pencil moustache! Much fun was had, but by then I was feeling kinda sickly and could only manage a lemon, lime and bitters at the pub before crawling off to bed. Sunday night found me even more illsome, but somehow I was convinced to head off to Transsensual Events at the Impy after work. Thanks to the wonder that is public trasnport I was VERY late, and missed a reading and Lillian Starr *sob*, but still had a ball watching Tom Cho (bizarre), Jo Joyce (hilarious, and quite poignant at times- loved the Daddy/Girl stuff and her list of affirmations partners of t-bois need to deal out), Gil (a hymn to the femme mystique), Debutante Debby doing a great reworking of U2's One Love, some slideshows from XX boys and someone else and then a great film that I must own NOW (and get the name of). Geez, I nearly slid out of my stocking watching the latter, especially remembering the taste of t-boi bits... ooooh.... with the insides of my cheeks still a little swollen from the spears I am somewhat orally fixated at the moment!

Sick Bitch

I have a raging fever, chills, sore throat, stiff neck, coughing heaps and am sneezy and wheezy and my muscles ache. Blah! Seems like ages since I have had a cold or flu, true, but still is rather unpleasant. Wouldn't mind so much if I wasn't up for 7am starts (ie out of bed by 5:30). Was cute this morning though, woke up all fevered and confused to find Psycho Pussy was curled up on top of me. Is the second night running that she has come in and slept snuggled up with me, think maybe 'cos NattieTheFlattie was away? Whatever the reason, its nice to get cat-hugs, even if she does comment loudly at my every toss and turn. Thinking of heading home soon to garlicky pasta and hot drinks and hot water bottle and an early night. Life pretty hectic at the moment, and I need to keep my strength up!

Just realised that aside from the pix, I haven't really given much detail of the LunaMorph show yet. I performed with Modified Souls, the PolyMorph-based performance collective. In this incarnation we had four characters: BodModBoy as a Dr, the PervertOfPiercing as the token 'madman', and Jewelz and I as nurses. The show opened with a loooooooooooooong warning to the audience that we might make some of them a bit queasy, and if they thought they were liable to be disturbed by us then they make like to leave before we began (there was also a delightful insert in the program advising them that if they felt woozy during the show not to get up but to close their eyes and stay seated). The Avalanche's Frontier Psychiatry began, and the three assistants walked onstage decked in scrubs and masks to begins etting up the stage. J and I followed, attired in the pierced-in corset lacing, little nurse uniforms (J made them) and of course, a rope attaching us together from the big hooks in our backs. We walked towards the front of the stage, I stooped and J continued a bit so we were standing far enough apart to get some tension on the ropes. Meanwhile, BMD is dragging a straightjacketed POP up to the rig, where he is hung up by hooks from his knees and then slowly raised until he is fully suspended. Ouch! The flesh rips a little, but the show goes on anyway! BMB comes over to J and pushes a spear through her cheek, changes gloves, spears me, and then we start the pull. For such a little sweet-looking creature J sure is strong and feisty! Wooooohoooooooooo! Wasn't quite expecting it so hard so soon, and almost fell on my arse a couple of times, tits falling out of my costume, before becoming VERY determined NOT to go down and to regain some ground. It was crazy, only a few minutes but we just threw oursleves into it totally... sigh... swoon... While all this was happening, POP had been lowered a little, speared by BMB, raised again, and then finally lowered and unattached. Music changed to some industrial sort of track, J and I were unclipped, I walked over and dragged POP from the stage, undid his straightjacket and watched from the side as J and BMB did the sweetest little Dr/Nurse flirt scene. Somehow BMB's mask and coat came off, and he was soon suspended and swinging from four hooks in his back whilst J knelt lovingly underneath (and at some point he speared himself too, but I missed it). The Nurse Who Loved Me, by A Pefect Circle, came on, he was lowered, she put her arms around his chest and her legs around his waist and then they were BOTH lifted up again:

I'm taking her home with me all dressed in white
She's got everything I need pharmacy keys
She's falling hard for me I can see it in her eyes
She acts just like a nurse with all the other guys

Oh, it was SO cheesy and mushy and silly! Perfectly played. Then they came down, POP and I walked back onto the stage and all four of us stood facing each other, turned to the audience and pulled out our spears.

After this I was fit for nothing much but bouncing around chain-smoking and babbling to other performers out the back. Eventually we took all the metal out, patched up and cleaned up and packed up and I headed off to Kooky with my back all bruised and the hook-holes covered in gauze. What a night! Kooky was especially gorgeous, as many had come straight from LunaMorph and were still in their finery, and half of my housemates were there being wonderful, and I spent a large part of the night being chased/kissed/danced with somewhat suggestively and finally propositioned by a very cute boi that I have often thought was a bit of alright. Nothing like a little slap and tickle to complete an evening. And I do have a soft spot for cheeky types, you know, those likely lads who come on all cocky but sweet and just grin at you until you melt into a puddle. (Which reminds me that I'm not sure if I ever posted the link to SkinMarvin, a site devoted to gay scallys, punks, army boys, skins and such. Check it out when you have at least one hand and an hour or so free. Makes me want to head straight back to the UK and pick up lots of rough trade who'll do filthy things to me on housing estates and under railway passes)

Aww, Pretty As A Picture, Ain't Zie?

And while I have my photos out, here's my Inqui outfit, my makeup for the queer kiddies masquareade bash at Uni, and a silly nose-cup wearing incident at Gaylourde's birthday bash.

Lunamorph (in pictures)

For the Modified Souls show.

Nurse outfit. Two 8 gauge hooks for flesh pull. 8 x 12 gauge captive rings for ribbon corset. Cheek spear for the sheer joy and shock value of it (no pic). Still buzzing from the adrenalin and endorphins, and not enough time to write it up yet except to say WOW!!!!

Wouldnit?

Wouldnt it be nice to be a star,
Shinin and sparklin, looking down the whole and plenty?
Being looked up with a telescope
While my sisters busy cutting the rope.
Daddy, you cant touch me,
Mommy, you cant hate me,
Im a star, get it?
Instead I froze.

And I let them, I let them,
I let them pick my brain,
Twist my arm,
Cut my throat
And wish me dead.
But Im still thinking,
Wouldnt it be nice to be a star?
Wouldnit-wouldnit?
Wouldnit-wouldnit?
Wouldnit-wouldnit?
Wouldnit?

- Yoko Ono
'Wouldnit'

I am tentatively booked myself in for a couple of shows at the Sly, Wednesday after next (to be confirmed). This is scary/exciting, as these will be the first shows I have done in ages where I can't rely at all on the shock value of blood or body fluids. Oooh, there were some brilliantly funny acts last night, including one to 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts' and then... swoon... Lee Harrington did the most simple yet breathtaking reverse strip to Unpretty (by?), starting off in wig and bathrobe, remove wig, starting to apply lippy in mirror, taking lippy and drawing big crosses on his breasts, putting on boy briefs and binder and then slowly getting dressed in shirt and suit and tie. I was almost in tears, it had the usual Lee style and professionalism and wit combined with an immense sense of vulnerability. Spectacular.

But I'm A Lady!

Random memory from Zoo's archive (with bonus ramble):

Once I was in the Ladies Room at a shopping centre. There was a woman in the cubicle beside mine, accompanied by a small boy about three or four years old. They were chatting away when his curiousity was piqued by the Feminine Hygeine Product Disposal Bin: 'what's that for Mum?'. 'That's to put things in' answers the Mum. 'Like what?' asks the kid, to be told 'ladies' things'. Kid ponders this for a second or two before continuing 'like flowers?'.

In the park where I am working at the moment there is neither a functional toilet block (closed due to crime/junkies I gather from the locals) or any flowers (apparently people would come and steal flowering plants in the wee hours of the morning). But there is a beautiful old fountain, glorious big palm trees, one or two ibis (ibises? ibii? ibiss?), masses of rosellas in the afternoon, squillions of pigeons, elderly Chinese women performing fan dances in the morning, many dogs to play with and plenty of opportunity to chat with very friendly people. Not a bad gig all in all, even with the scary-early starts.

Community Cafe

Yep, The Nunnery's Community Cafe is on again this Sunday (2oth). Unfortunately I be working, but for those who can get there, here's the schedule as I've been told it:

From 11am (All Day) Bike Club DIY Bicycle Maintenance
12:30 Introduction to Swedish MassageLearn and practice basic techniques, bring oil and a towel
3pm Ray Jackson Wiradjuri Elder is hosting a workshop on how non-Indigenousactivists can be better allies to Indigenous activists and Indigenousstruggle.
4pm Citizens of Language‘a poet will never accept a state and a state will never accept a poet. We reven. Between the politic and the citizens of language there is a war.’Helen Cixous (Creating a safe space to come together and write with otherhumans interested in the art of expression through different word crafts –poetry, hip hop, song lyrics, narrative or whatever.
Facilitated by spoken word and hip hoplovers tom (citizen tom) and zoe (lady z).
5pm Performances by Lady Z, excerpts from the Bakery and Pete and open spacefor you!

And all day scrumptious vegan treats and drinks on a pay as you feel basis :)

Dinner With Tom Cho's Grandmother

Most of you will be aware that the delightful Tom Cho is performing at Transsensual Events on Sunday. You should check out his sublimely ridiculous piece of writing, Dinner With My Grandmother right now, and then play on the rest of his site for a while. Trust me, you'll feel much chirpier for it! Here's a teaser from the abovementioned short story:

'An interesting thing about my grandmother is that she is called Captain Merrill Stubing. This is due to an incident that occurred when my grandfather first courted my grandmother. My grandparents initially met on a skiing holiday. There was nothing my grandparents loved more than skiing the slopes of Shanghai, and it was on these slopes that they first met and fell in love. My grandfather had boldly approached my grandmother at the chair lifts. He had asked her, “What is your name?” and she had replied seductively, “What would you like it to be?” and he had said, “I would like your name to be Captain Merrill Stubing”, and so now my grandmother has to answer to that name.'

Old Mac Bad Dog

Have missed the last one or two Bad Dogs, but if all goes to plan (ie can afford it, can create outfit in time etc) should be at this one:

Old Mac Bad Dog had a farm..
(at Jets Sports Club, Holbeach Avenue Tempe, at 3pm on Sunday 27th May ).

Ee i ee i o!

And on that farm he had some…. (each sold separately, batteries not included)…Pigs n goats n cows n chickens n ducks n horses n working dogs n pitchforks n tractors n haystacks n needles n gumboots n overalls n drizabones n garden paths n orchards n "special" plantations n alpacas n geese & goslings n sheep n sheep dips n harvesters n potato pickers n cold beer on the front porch n apple pie cooling on the window ledge n CWA auxiliary meetings n inbred gene pools n choppin' blocks n axes n headless chooks runnin' as busy as lizards n great big rifles n roo bars n rabbit shootin' n wild dogs n carcasses n wives that walk into doors n foreclosure n drought……

Get your tickets from Spank Records & Barberia in Darlo and So Music in Newtown - $40 presale / $50 door

More info on the website. Ooooh, did someone say 'Udder Spectacular'?? Think that's my outfit solved!

Zoo Positive

You've got to accentuate the positive
Eliminate the negative
Latch on to the affirmative
Don't mess with Mister In-Between
You've got to spread joy up to the maximum
Bring gloom down to the minimum
Have faith or pandemonium
Liable to walk upon the scene...

- J Mercer
'Accentuate The Positive' (as sung by Bing Crosby, Ella Mae Morse and squillions of other people)

Maybe its the effect of being up at 4:45 this morning to head to work (6:45 start, coming from my parentoids's place in the stix) and thus watching the crescent moon and stars disappear and a new day dawn in between snatches of sleep on the train, maybe its the effect of getting some dirty action at Inqui, maybe its the effect of a cute blog comment from a random admirer, maybe it was just realising what else I could do in the amount of time I spend worrying about people who have hurt me, or suddenly having it confirmed that whilst I have been a VERY BAD Zoo in some cases, not EVERYTHING that has gone wrong lately in my life is ALL my fault (ie there are plenty of other crazy folk involved and not all of their actions have been nice/reasonable either) ... Don't know why exactly, but am more inclined today than usual to just pull my little socks up and get on with being happy. The sun is shining, ski season is fast approaching, I'm getting some $ in, doing some shows, and I'm amongst good people who love me most of the time. Heck, who can complain about that?

Inqui Wrap-up

Yet another strangely-enjoyable hangover day... and time for a brief Inqui wrap-up. Spent the day panicking with pre-party anxiety. Went walking and shopping with Whoretic for last minute outfit requirements and to try and get myself into a suitable headspace. Seems a lot of my friends had also been freaking out about the night for various reasons. This probably means we are a pack of neurotic crazy people, but kind of comforting to know that I'm not the only one who lacks the confidence needed to deal with this scene from time to time. It can be very stressful!

Met up with with a pile of pervy people at The Newtown for pre-party drinkies, admired each other's outfits and had a couple of beers. Piled into taxi and headed to Moore Park. Ahhhh.... to walk into a roomful of leathered up bears and queers and freaks and kinksters is just heaven! Smooched and cuddled and chatted and laughed and kissed hellos for the first few hours. Drank some beer, had some toilet sex, danced with some bears (including a ridiculous cling-wrap routine in the retro tent!), danced to Sveta with the dykes and Mandy with the boys, had some strange sort of naughty fumbling ridiculous encounter with a boy against a railing and then stumbled about being silly outside as the sun came up. Back to a friend's place, crashed out on his floor for a while, poured self into cab and bus and fell onto the lounge in the backyard. Slept in the sunshine for a few hours, got fed fruit toast and coffee by Whoretic, called my Mum for Mother's Day and spent the rest of the day curled up with a blankie watching Scrubs DVDs. All in all, wasn't a bad affair at all. New job tomorrow, so no heading out for me tonight (too broke and broken anyway- very expensive and exhausting night).

Oh, and I vaguely recall having given my amyl to someone, so if that person was you could you please return it to me? Ta!

Of Maids and Men

The cat is dreaming on my laptop bag, moaning and talking in her sleep. She's making more sense than I am at the moment, as I'm vaguely delirious even now, after a very disorientated and fairly fruitless day (though I did smile a lot, and I figure that counts as positive activity). Can't manage to write a thing for tomorrow night, but finding plenty of words out of other people's mouths. Such as these:

'Being an old maid is like death by drowning, a really delighful sensation after you cease to struggle' -Edna Farber (1887-1968)

and

'Some of us have become the men we wanted to marry' - Gloria Steinam

Barbs and Teeth

Came across the Anti-Rape Female Condom, designed in South Africa by Sonette Ehlers, when doing some vagina dentata research on Wiki. To quote:

'The device is a latex sheath held firm by shafts of sharp, inward-facing microscopic barbs that would be worn by a woman in her vagina like a tampon. Should an attacker attempt vaginal rape, the penis would penetrate the latex and be hooked by the barbs, causing the attacker pain and (ideally) giving the victim time to escape. The condom would remain attached to the attacker's body and could be removed only surgically, which would alert hospital staff and police.'

Snail Trail

There are bees in her bonnet
Sip the honey, spit out the sting
Hair of the bitch that bit you
Pick up the scent, territory marked
Perfectly groomed, and almost housetrained
Claws clipped short
Dog breath over flossed and polished canines
Throw her a bone
Suck the marrow, bury it in the garden
Slobber all over your chin
Bitch love is a puppy
Best shoes chewed to shreds
And bed stinking of piss
Shiny coat, silky coat
Silk from a sow’s ear
Pearls for swine
Oysters, clams, fishpaste
Pork buns and leather collars
Pink at the end of the steak knife, succulent
Off the leash, animal logic
Eyes on stalks, antenna stretching
Praying mantis, black widow, death adder
Snakes ladder up her thighs
Web of spider veins, mothballs in her panties
Pin the tail of the donkey, nice piece of tail
Canter of pony boots, fetlocks, haunches, trotters
Walking on eggshells
Puss in boots, kitten heels
Bird of paradise, bird of prey
Rare as hen’s teeth
Plucked and gutted, giblets glistening
Feathers ruffled, horse has bolted
Abattoir, knackery, glue and icecream
Jelly pythons at the teddy bear’s picnic
Boa constrictor with the Siren’s call
Sphinx, gorgon, familiar... Zoo

(Penned that a while ago while contemplating my animal logic. Blogged it here because I've started treating this blog like my notebook and filling it up with trinkets I might want to play with later. )

Happy Hangover Head

Ah, sometimes to be hungover, not in a 'ohmypoundingheadmyqueasystomach' way, but in a 'wowmyscrambledmind' way can be very productive and interesting. A stream-of-consciousness way of being, snippets and tangents all muddled up together in a peculiar ill-logic that bears the most curious fruit... (hopefully including something special for spoken word tomorrow night).

I must say, last night's SLPA Artspace launch was one of the most joyous and silly events I've attended in a while. Leather Pride week always makes me smile, but this year more than ever before I've felt like I really belong there, surrounded by leather harnesses, collars, kilts, belts, boots, caps, hats, Daddies, Mummies... these people are one of my favourite families. Had a wonderful chai latte with Y beforehand, and again concluded that he is indeed a very good find (thanks to ACB for the introduction)- articulate, intelligent, gentle, generous, softly spoken, well mannered and sublimely aware of the abject! From time to time certain people enter your life, and it seems to be for a specific purpose but you can't quite fathom what. He's one of those, and I'm grateful to have him around. After our beverages we headed down to Aurora to peruse the exhibition. Spent a delightful few hours admiring the art (both on the walls and in the crowd), kissing and hugging and wrestling and quaffing beer and champagne, schmoozing and melting and flirting and smiling! Afterwards a few of us toddled off to play some pool at the Impy, then I got bored and headed to The Newtown with NattieTheFlattie, and somehow we ended up visiting SauerKraut, getting even more silly despite not imbibing any further intoxicants, and then all crashing out in her room. Waking up next to her, I realised that some people you know by their smell, or their laugh, or their breathing pattern, but with SK the thing that strikes me as immediately identifiable is her temperature, she is always warm, and her skin is smooth and moist, to curl up with her feels like sharing a womb.

What Zoo has been up to lately

Last week was USyd's Pride Week, so I went along to the short film night at Stucco (some nice work, though one disturbing piece with a one-legged character called 'Eileen' *groan*, that included a whole heap of 'even Eileen can get a date, why can't I?' 'jokes' *arrrgh*), and the splendid Masquarade party on Friday night. Inbetween these managed to fit in some NADA acupuncture, a visit to my folks, a trip to Bowral (spa, great Japanese food, catching up with friends). Then weekend held a rehearsal for LunaMorph show, a trip the very disturbing (and not in a good way)Plastination exhibition at Moore Park, SLPA fair day, the opening of the community cafe at The Nunnery and a lazy Saturday night spent at MadamPhantasm's watching Parkinson (Dame Edna 'going commando') and Sideshow and The Bill and Rock Quiz with mushroom stroganoff and microwave popcorn. Perfect!

Week before was Sheilafest of course, which meant roving MilkNCookies performance for Whoretic and I at Scabaret, plus a squillion other amazing acts (Domino and Wife, Captain Vegetable and Sister mary Clancy Of The Overflow, KK NoPants clown), a latex and rubber workshop, the totally brilliant and bountiful Academy Broads and a small but fun art show. And this week be SLPA affairs, a delectable birthday party,meetings with a few artistic collobarators and some shenanigans on Wednesday at the Slox. Phew! Who has the time or energy to work???

Camp Betty Road Trip

NattieTheFlattie and I be thinking of heading south of the border in June for Camp Betty. Is anyone driving down? Promise we are toilet-trained, mildly useful with maps, prepared to chip in for petrol and car snacks, and willing to sing along to country radio stations as we head down the Hume if you so desire...

Pre-Inqui Drinkies (and other fun with leather)

(Call me presumptuous, but I'm guessing that a lot of you be going to Inquisition on Saturday- and if not then its not too late to get your ticket*!)

Thinking that it would be nice to gather for pre-Inqui drinkies in the Ghetto somewhere. Doors open at 10pm, so I'd be wanting to get there 11-11:30ish... maybe meet up at The Newtown after 9 for a bevvy or two and a quick primp and preen before falling into cabs and making a swooshing big entrance?(And even if you're not going to the main event, please join us for a pint or two of perversity)

Speaking of manners leathery, do not forget the SLPA Artspace opening tonight and the Spoken Word event on Wednesday. Both from 7pm, and both at Aurora Galleries (34 Bedford St Newtown). Mmmm... I can smell it already! And judging from the vibe at Fair Day yesterday, its going to be a very friendly happy cruisy sexy week!

* Tickets available from SAX Fetish (Oxford St), MaXXX Black (Newtown), Reactor Rubber (Enmore), Lucrezia & De Sade (Melbourne), Dungeon Warehouse (Melbourne). $75 (SLPA/DSP), $85 (Kindred), $95 (General)

Luxurious Defiance

After the Terror, in the early days of the Directory, the aristos who'd escaped the guillotine had an ironic fad of tying a red ribbon around their necks at just the point where the blade would have sliced it through, a red ribbon like the memory of a wound. And his grandmother, taken withthe notion, had her ribbon made up in rubies; such a gesture of luxurious defiance!

- Angela Carter
' The Bloody Chamber'

When I stirred from my slumber this morning I was tangled up in a dream of execution. In this nightmare, I had been sentenced to death, for the murder of two men (?? it is all very unclear, both the crime and my guilt of it), but the method by which I was to be killed was a bit confusing. I knew it had something to do with my neck, but although I was to lay on some sort of table, on my back, with a hood over my face, I am not entirely sure it was decapitation, and have an inkling that electricity was involved somehow. Whatever the method, I was none too keen on the idea! There was some odd sort of demonstration/ pre-enactment of the ordeal in a small lecture theatre, where the whole saga was to be filmed for a documentary or trashy current affairs show, and they interviewed my crying grandmother about it, and made me get onto the table to give the viewers an idea of how it worked. And my mother was somehow involved, and my supervisor, but no men, anywhere, even the executioner was female. The court then let me go home, on the understanding that I would return at 10:30 the next morning to face my fate. Instead, I went and hid at my parents house (where I saw my oldest brother, the only male I remember at any time), then panicked as I realised that would be the first place 'they' looked for me, and I needed to find some new escape plan, or at least some way to buy some time and an appeal. Then I woke up for a bit, knew I had to get back to the dream, was still on the run when I did, and then woke up properly without having resolved it! Dang! Have that lurking sense of unfinished business now... Has been a while since I have had an execution nightmare, something which occurred quite regularly for years, but this is the first one I've had in ages where I've actually fought not to die. Usually I'm just all accepting of the fact that its my time to go andjust let it happen. Hmmm. Whatever can it all mean?

Suspension

a selection of definitions from dictionary.com

- the act of suspending.
- the state of being suspended.
- temporary abrogation or withholding, as of a law, privilege, decision, belief, etc.

Chemistry-
a.the state in which the particles of a substance are mixed with a fluid but are undissolved.
b.a substance in such a state.

Music-
the prolongation of a tone in one chord into the following chord, usually producing a temporary dissonance

Rhetoric-
the heightening of interest by delay of the main subject or clause, especially by means of a series of parallel preceding elements.

Artemis' Cubs

'In Greece there is a cult of the goddess Artemis of Brauron, who was a bear goddess. Young girls of good families were given to serve the goddess from their twelth to sixteenth year. In the awkward time when girls are just as hard to keep home as boys, they were given into the service of the goddess. They behaved like tomboys- neither washed nor cared for themselves in any way, spoke roughly, and were called bear cubs. Thus the bear-cub societies of the mother-goddess served to reinforce the feminine under the veil of protection. In this way, the feminine personality could develop unharmed by the problem of sexuality and gointo life with a certain maturity, gained in security under the ugly bearskin.'

- M L von Franz
The Feminine In Fairytales (53)

Book, Glorious Books!

Stelarc, Leigh Bowery, The Feminine In Fairytales, Carolee Schneemann 'Imaging Her Erotics', Modern Primitives, various tomes on performance and the body, Kathy O'Dell... oooh, what a feast there is to be had at the SCA (Sydney College of the Arts) library! I can barely carry everything I borrowed home! Happy dance!!!

Happy Emo To You

'Not all emos cut themselves. There are some emos known as happy emos and they go around being joyful', so sayeth a young emo child in last-week's Sun Herald. Thought that as LesBeanz has just pointed out the inherent emo-ness of a couple of my recent post I might just have to aspire to a state of happy emo-ness? But can one be emo AND 32? And can one be a happy emo AND cut oneself?

Moo-ving Pictures

Just received the pictures and DVD of Moo Zoo as Divine Bovine from the kindly folk at www.hellfiresydney.com. Can't put the rude ones up here, and as I have my kit off for most of the show it means I can't give you the milky bits, but you get the general idea!