Make mine a double

I'm laying in bed, just letting my mind wander through all of the stuff that gets stuck in there. I was just flashing through a lost reel of memories and I just have to share (wink)! I guess it is my friend Tawnya's fault, and I love her for it!! Last week we were talking about her folks and something in our conversation triggered the long lost memories of my 21st year and how fucking rad her mom always was to me at the Red Lion, when we went dancing.

At that moment, all the files returned and I have been going through them. This point in time, my 20's, were rough for me and we live in a rough town and so I have walked away from a lot of moments in my life. Getting these memories back has reminded me that it may have been rough but we had fun and knew how to PARTY!!

The Red Lion was so cool. The walls were all wood, the tables were barrels, there were ropes, dark booths, a low ceiling, a very small dance floor, live cover bands and a lot of spandex!!! Not just on the girls. And spandex on a dude is always a sight to behold; especially since most of them were men enough to never wear underwear!! Yes! The volleyball games were THE best. One guy used to wear his black spandex with a t-shirt that read " if it swells, ride it" and he was George Michael, WHAM, sexy!!! Then there was my buddy that always wore his turquoise spandex! And he would wear them out dancing at the Red Lion!! 

This is reason one I always tried to sit so I could see people leaving the dance floor after a slow dance. Their excitement was always noticeable! One drunken night, the line to the bathroom was too long, so turquoise spandex and I went outside to smoke a cig and pee in the bushes. As we approach the bushes he turns to me, as he is doing what he is saying," The best part about wearing spandex is that I never have to pull my shorts down; I just lift the leg and slide it out the bottom like this and I pee." I'm in heaven. I need a drink!!

Tawnya's mom was a bartender there and she would ALWAYS hook me up with a double and in a tall glass too. I would just slink to the side and she would slide one my way and I would tip her big! It was always a stressful approach to the bar, having to wade between tables of dudes that wanted to kick my ass because of how nasty I would dance with their girlfriends. But the reward was always worth it.

Double vodka cranberry or double kamakazie baby! Those were my drinks. Well, screwdrivers and fuzzy navels too. And gin and tonics; they looked best under black lights. I kind of had to be loaded to calm my nerves and I sweat so fucking much on the dance floor I just never could keep my buzz.

I just loved sitting at those tables and laugh and check out who was with who and smoke cigarettes and dance dance dance. So many great nights in there playing with the people I grew up with, some of us friends, others people you'd know by face and those you wish you never would have met. All of us there for the same reason: to have a fucking  blast and party it out!

Then there was the Shilo Inn, in Seaside. That was always a good time because there were always more cute tourists there. And the dance floor was about 10 inches bigger, had higher ceilings and a brass railing along the dance floor that was perfect for practicing our body ripples and sexy poses. And... You could see the ocean while you danced to the DJ, who always played the hits ( which is generally better than most cover bands).

The line to get into the Shilo was always a rediculous power game for the bouncers and they would always make me wait a bit because I was known as the nasty dancer. I can't help that I liked to dance with their girlfriends, they had all the right moves and were willing to grind with me. But those moments were rare. There was a posse of us that would take to the dance floor and we would dance in a group being inspired and driven by the music and all of the moves being expressed around us and through us. It was always like we were having more than the experience that we were in.

Dance has always done that to me. Most times I am out of my fucking mind and in a different world, and not from the doubles, but from the moment. Dance brings something out that I keep trapped within me, my joy, my essence. Wherever I may be I keep a dance in my stride. I have always searched out the dance party. As I've said to many before," they are usually done at home and by myself or with a few friends." 

Over the years, I've danced more and switched to singles and quit smoking. I've lost some hair, gained a few pounds, learned some amazing dance moves and always have the beat within every breath I take and step I make. 

I think my mind has settled enough, I bid you good night! Love to you all and remember it's always best to DANCE IT OUT!

In other news ....

I have dedicated my life to be the best I can be, given the equipment I have been given. Every since I can remember, all I have wanted to do was make people laugh and help to ease the pain that this life delivers. I have always played the fool and made fun of myself in order to bring laughter to those around me. 

I have pushed myself hard. I have worked the lives of many into this frame of mine, scheduled almost every second of my time to ensure I can be everything I have always wanted to be. We all know I love to be on the stage and to entertain. I live for the sound of 5-6-7-8!!! I crave rehearsing and creating shows, dance, laughter, food and thought. I love the community I am apart of and the crazy we bring forth!!!

Because of my push and drive and stubbornness I have had to face a reality I have been avoiding for some time... I have injured my body in a way that is causing me to leave the stage and cancel Dragalution this year.  I am taking this next year to really focus on finding my strength, ease the pain in my back and legs and discover the means to survive and thrive with my new set of cards I have been dealt.

I am a fighter. I am the warrior queen and my quest is personal this time!! I really want you all to know how much your constant love and support means to me! It is the fuel I pack my soul with as I make my steps forward.

The interesting thing is that it is scary stepping forward not knowing what is ahead and not being able to fully feel through my legs as I take my strides. It's like walking in clouds or through thick fog; I think I know where I am but I never really do know. I'm just trusting as I step on, knowing that something or someone will be there when I fall and help me brush myself off and continue on.

I have no idea how I feel about any of it. I am excited for the adventure and I can not wait to be shown the hidden mysteries to who I am and how creative I can be at this game called life!!!

I love you all!!! 

An ode to farts

I grew up attending Sanit Mary's Star of the Sea School, in Astoria, Oregon. It really was an incredible growing experience in so many ways. I attended mass every day, loved recess, the kitchen ladies, the nervous feeling I got each and every time I walked into the buildings, especially the church; more specifically being in the side room or on the altar.  I ALWAYS worked at being a perfect loving example of God's love, yet I was always sweating, waiting for a statue or painting to speak to me and tell me I was GOING TO HELL. I have a flair for the dramatic, especially I my mind.  I just knew God was going to tell me how bad I was, and so, I would distract by being silly and causing trouble; which is exactly what I shouldn't have been doing in the first place.

In my family, we prayed a lot and we had a lot of gas. We had a living room rule that we were to go to the door and fart into the dining room, so as not to choke out the family while watching TV. We usually made a production of it, cribbing the door frame and forcing one out with a nice long rip. Always so satisfying!! Almost as good as those loud farts that wake you from your sleep (wink).

I also used my gas as a weapon. My standard operating procedure for winning a fight was to pin my opponent down, namely one of my siblings, by placing my knees along their rib cage, with my large ass in my cordory rubbed bare at the thigh navy blue uniform right on their faces; arms on their legs so they couldn't kick up and I would force one out! They were best when I was on my dairy kick and I had real warm smelly farts that would make the paint weep.

One of my all time favorite moments was my 7th grade year. I had Sister Catherine, the year before she became a Mother, we were gathered in the corner west facing classroom on the top floor... Incredible view! We were listening to Bill Cosby tell the story of Noah. We were all squeezed so tight around the record player, just laughing so much at how awesome his telling of the story was. He made it very enjoyable. I was kneeling on my chair, like a good praying boy, but my elbows were on my desk so my ass was up in the air, poised for a great sound off. We had had chili that day at lunch and I had felt a gas bubble building and I really wanted to go to the hall and fart in my locker, but the story was TOO funny to leave so I kept holding my little rosebud tighter and tighter.... My laughing and nervousness about having to fart was making my cheeks all red, my feathered-parted-down-the-middle hair stick to my face, my bucked tooth cackle quiver and my rosebud weaken.... Out of the depths of my ass came THE LOUDEST AND LONGEST FART I HAD EVER HEARD!!!! It seriously went on and on and my laughing made it worse and caused me to snap a few more out. Everyone was in laughter! Well, not Sister Catherine. She lifts the needle off of the record, grabs me by my ear (I'm not joking) and yanked me into the hall. While out there she leaned into me, her breath smelling stale and like face powder, her faint mustache quivering above her angry tight lips as she told me how sinful I had been to fart like that in public. She reminded me that I am a terrible young man and that I always fail at being a positive role model. I'd heard it all before, since kindergarten really. My punishment was that I had to move my desk to be right next to hers in class and I had to sit on the floor next to her log when we were on the carpet for other studies and singing practice. I was by her side for weeks. It began to feel so natural being at her side, observing the class from that point of view. I kind of liked it.

Anyway(ssssss), one day, while we were sitting on the carpet practicing 'Prepare Ye the Way' for mass; I'm seated at Sister Catherine's left, couldn't be her right because that is reserved for God, and out of the corner of my eye I notice her oh so gingerly lift her left cheek off of her stump and she let out a silent but deadly one on me!!!! I looked at my friend, Kim, sitting to my left to see if she caught what had just happened and there was no avoiding it because you could smell it! I giggled, made a little scene and she blamed it on me! Sent me to the hall! That was that, all farts would always be blamed on me since I had so publicly displayed my skills.

It got me nervous. I didn't want to be known as the farter, chub rub Davis was bad enough ( it's because my big chubby thighs rubbed together and made a great sound with the cords I wore for my uniform.) I asked one of the girls in my neighborhood how she controlled her farts. She told me that her mom made her wear a cork up her butt to hold them in. I just knew a fart could never hold mine in! I had force, just ask anyone.

A few years later, the year in 1987, I'm in my first yoga class at good ol CCC, Harvard on the Hill; we are doing cat/cow and an older lady next to me totally farts, ripping nice and loud in the gym. I started giggling so bad I had to leave the room. Namaste. 

As a gay man, I can't keep my hole tight enough to keep those farts away from potential dates. I will never forget the morning after my first time of being with a man.... I was sitting on the futon visiting with two of my girlfriends, smoking cigarettes and laughing at how fun the party had been and they wanted details because I had had my tongue down some guys throat all night. We were all laughter and good times and my laughter couldn't keep my sore hole closed and out came the loudest and wettest ky fart EVER. I was so humiliated, and yet, it is one of my favorite stories to tell. It is a great ice breaker... Which always leads to deal breaker. No wonder I can't get a date!

From that moment on, I lived in fear of my farts. Sleeping over with a fella was never relaxing, can't relax I may fart. It's my special spot, nothing nasty can come out of it! I'm perfect! NOT! During the night I would just edge my ass off the side and lift the covers to prevent a Dutch oven effect and pray for it to be silent on the way out.

Silly really. We all fart. I always found such pleasure in them . I still do while I'm driving or in bed or in the shower. I have a circle of friends that I am comfortable farting around. I don't use it as a weapon any more. However, in 1997, I took over my dad's former job at Star, although I could never replace Mister D, I went as Mister Marco, and he told me one of his favorite things to do was to walk through groups of kids gathered in the halls and leave a silent one and watch them fight over who just farted. I learned from the best.

It may be considered a filthy thing, but farting has always been something that makes me happy. I don't think it is a sin. I don't think it should make me undatable. In 2006, I choreographed an entire dance based on farting and the actions and reactions farting may cause. I do not sniff my own farts or think I'm smug from the act of farting. I just think it is natural, I'm going to own it when I drop it and I will, probably, always giggle on the inside when it does happen. I'm for sure not going to hell for farting! 

The path to auditions for dragalution 2015

A week from today, at 9:30 PM, at the Columbian theater I will be having auditions for Dragalution 2015!!!! I can not even begin to describe how excited I am about this new show!!!! As usual, I don't like to give too much away because the thrill of not knowing is so powerful; and I always have a plan but it does have a tendency to take charge and bend at the will of the energy of the cast.

I can tell you that it is going to be different than the last show (wink). I always like to push myself artistically, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. 

As a troupe, we take ourselves to the edge of our comfort zones and then take a step beyond that. These shows may be an awesome experience the night of the show; but it is the rehearsing, the sweating, frustrations, fears and joy of the challenge that give it life.

We learn so much about ourselves in rehearsal. Somedays, we love each other so much; other days we may be frustrated but we push through and come to a greater place as a team.

I feel it at every show, in the days and weeks leading up to the performance. We get excited to tap into those places that we don't often give life to. We get excited to get dressed up and let our freaky selves out to play with no judgement!! For myself, one of my favorite moments is walking from the house with our parade to the theater and seeing everyone all dressed up and ready to take it all in! That enthusiasm for the show is the pulse of my life!!! Standing on that stage and breathing in the strength, question and beauty of you all is why we continue to do these shows. We love celebrating this revolution with you!!!!

We can not have a dragalution without making ourselves uncomfortable and pushing ourselves beyond our comfort zones to a new level of understanding and grace. I encourage you to come and audition, if just to experience that thrill of what the fuck is going to happen and what is he going to make me do (wink). I may push us, but I always do it to bring us to a better place. Seriously.

This show is going to have a few numbers that require many people. We will be doing a movement video that will be in the second half of the show and I would love 15-40 people for that. I dream big people!!!! I'm looking for strong performers that are willing to embrace fears and push the line with me! We have fun!!! We work hard! We bring a living art experience to the stage and party with it!!! WE ARE DRAGALUTION!!!! And I want to see you shine!!!

I hope I see you at auditions!! We will be rehearsing Tuesday and Wednesday nights at 9:30. The movement video will have its own rehearsal time of Tuesdays at 7:30PM. This show promises to take us on a journey we have not yet been on and I can not wait to get working on it with you/for us!!!

Until I see you, know how much I love you and that your love is what gives me purpose, drive and breath!!!

I am yours eternally,

Daylight

The Hurl Curl and Related Mysteries

Most of you know I have serious talent when it comes to burping. Now, take that force and add a complete spinal ripple ending in a total Linda Blair exodus of vomit with a high powered vocal underscore and you have the hurl curl. I just really have a hard time holding back, so when I vomit it is a total body experience for everyone involved.

One of my favorite ones was at Boxxes. I had just finished my pantry shift at Benjamin's at the PacWest, my nick name was pantry princess, see even back then people saw my grace and beauty (insert buck toothed smile). I was waiting for my brother and some friends to go dancing next door at the Brig. I was on a carrot and celery diet, so my three double screwdrivers hit me hard and fast. Add that to the half dozen cigarettes I smoked while I waited for my friends, they were late, and the high level of anxiety I had sitting in a gay bar all by myself; it's no wonder Linda came for a visit. 

I had my mouth sweats happen, then I got a bit sweaty, which is nothing new, I always get nervous and sweaty in public. However, that combination is a tell tale sign of the approach of the hurl curl. I made my way to the bathroom. Of course the path is lined with uber sexy men against the wall working a hook up. Skin tight Levi's, hairy chests, vests and attitude lined the approach to the bathroom. As I start my nervous stumble to the toilet, I can not hold it back. Before I know it, my hands are up trying to hold back a force too great to be restrained, and I have carrots and celery and screwdriver shooting out between my fingers spraying all along the wall as I continue my hurl to the sink where I heave and heave filling the sink with a nice chop salad. It really is no wonder I can never get a date. Who would want to date that hot mess? 

It was the return from the bathroom that was the worst. The evil glares and bitchy squeals coming from the wall of masculinity. Judging me. Pushing me. Laughing. I just lit a cig and went to the otherside, where word of my escapade had not yet arrived, just like my friends. Fuck. I'll call that scene.

Next up, my adventures in dating land, staring me, a florist, two dogs, gravity bongs, Jaegermeister shots, whiskey sours, bangars and mash and a VHS of Northern Exposure. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Every day for six months. I know. But he loved me and dreamed of me.

It began on a lovely day in Astoria 1999, I went into a flower shop to buy myself my weekly boquette of flowers; a little thing I did for myself because I was worth the love. Anyway(sssss), as I approach the back counter this fella with long hair, wide ribbed camel colored cords and hemp necklace turned, made eye contact with me and fell back into the card stand knocking it over. I helped the fella up. He got all giddy and looked at me with his sweet blue eyes and proceeded to say, "Sorry about that. You just took my breath away. I have been having a dream about you for years and figured it was just someone I would never know and now here you are in front of me."

Pause..... I am a devout romantic. Always have been. He was tugging on my heart strings and my wheels were turning on our new found love. He dreamt about me, that means something. I will open my locked down heart and see what happens..... That was my instantaneous inner dialogue that allowed me to say," my name is Marco, want to get together after work and tell me more?"

I should add that this all happened at the end of one of my seven year cycles of trying romance. He came over that evening and I lived up to my true form which was to be sure to do it on the first date because if he discovers how much of a freak show I am he might now be back and at least I can have one fun ride.

We did it on my zebra faux fur comforter, under a ceiling of bamboo, and after a few drinks and an hour of making out and smoking. Tasty I know. I was excited though! He was in to me and that felt great. Mid thrust he says, "can we go to the shower to finish?" I guess. I hated my shower, it was in an awkward space in the basement and I always felt more dirty when I was done....

Fast forward a few months.

We saw each other everyday. This was our exact routine, hardly  any variation, ever:

I would sleep on his small bed smothered by his two dogs and him.

I would get up at 5 and go to work. 

Take my first break at 8, go pick him up for work ( he had no license).

He would have a shot or two of Jaegermeister and a gravity bong, I would join for the bong.

I would drop him at work and return for my day.

I'd go walk his dogs after work and clean up the mess from his puppy.

Pick him up at 5

He would give me a presnt or flowers every day.

We would go to Ship Inn

He would have 3 double whiskey sours, I would have single vodka crans.

I would have fish and chips, he would have bangars and mash.

We would smoke many cigarettes.

Next stop, 711 for a six pack to take to his place.

Clean the mess from the puppy

Gravity bong

A shot

Sit on the love seat with the two dogs and watch the same cassette of Northern Exposure as he told me he loved this show, the first time from his lips, the thousandth time to my ears. 

It was a long loop of Groundhog Day and it took me months to understand the pattern. It really was the always having to do it in the shower so he wouldn't pass out that really got to me. Or maybe how he always fell down the stairs. He loved me but could never remember our history together because he was always so fucked up. But he loved me.

I caught a reflection of myself one day while we were at it in the shower next to the heaps of dirty laundry on the floor, my body swollen from all the drinking and fried food and I hated myself. This wasn't love.

The thing was, he was so loved by people. He was the sweetest. But our relationship was not healthy and I was enabling him as I would match him and hold his hair at the toilet and try to keep his life in order.

I think the worst part was the humiliation of finding out he had been stealing from work. All of my gifts were hot items. Long time family friends. I still feel guilty when I see them.

Anyway(ssss), that was the year I met my savior, Melanie, and I got the hell out of town......

Just this past month I met this fella who was thinking of moving to town. He was told that he should meet me and I introduced him around and I tried to be his friend. He really is a sweet man, he totally reminds me of my exboyfriend from'99, but I pumped the breaks because his pattern was so strongly what I vowed to stay clear of. It brought back too many memories of sad and heavy times for me.

The interesting thing is that during the encounter with this present day ex, the former ex passed on. I feel such joy for him. To know he has been released from his struggles and pain brings a sense of relief for me. My problem is that I did love him so much and he was a pivotal part of my path but I could not make space for him in my life because of how our time together was. I guess the best part of that time together was that every time he looked at me with his blue eyes he was always seeing me for the first time and that joy was exquisite.

He was the reason I pulled my life together and saught out my own path. He is why I stopped being a heavy drinker, why I quit smoking cigarettes and why I took an interest in living my life and searching out eye to eye, heart to heart friendships. He pushed me down my path and helped me find breath in my stale soul. So for that, I honor his passing.

I've said good bye to my hurl curl life. I am always willing to demonstrate a dry heave version if you'd like but I'm not that person any longer.

I used to have an eating disorder, but then I found laxitives...or I've seen beyond the ring of fire..also know as I've learned a few things from this hard cock life

Vanity could have been the ruin of me.  

Vanity has been the ruin of me.

Vanity has been fuel to my life fire.

Vanity can ruin you or raise you up.

I've seen the dark side of my vanity..

And I can go dark.

I think one of my worst was coming out of my first run of fierceness in NYC in 1996. I was back in Astoria and needed to make every day a NYC day. I may have come home ruined, but I delivered. I learned from a very young age that I do best stepping out with my strong leg first. On days I felt less than what I think I should, I dressed  it up and made it comply to my image. 

A few months into my return, I noticed my cake waist expanding and my 29" that I snorted so hard for not even making it up past mid thigh. I wasn't walking my several miles a day in the city anymore, something about a small town just makes a girl want to drive. Maybe it was the yells. Hard to tell but my ass and gut were growing and I couldn't handle that.

I began my love affair with super dieters tea or 3 ballerina tea, depending on what was on sale. I was serious about my tea. The directions were something like: steep one bag of tea in an 8 ounce glass of hot water for 10 minutes. I, being the fierce bitch I was, did 3 bags in 6 ounces of hot water for 20 minutes. The results were an ass cramping good time. The cramps would start around 6 in the morning. I could not make morning farts without sitting on a toilet, because it worked that good!

A few months in, I had dropped my pounds, still had my little belly ( still do, it just likes me), and I knew to never trust a fart before noon. Most days, I would have nice whole pieces of undigested food floating in the toilet. What a miracle!!!

Two things happened within a few weeks of each other....

The first being, I was going to go to lunch with a friend, we were making plans and I was feeling just so fierce and I had a bit of a fart cramp.. A quick glance at the wall, almost 2, I am safe; I'll just let it out gently. I released that fart and felt it run down the inside of my legs. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I shat my pants and it was being absorbed by my socks, it was just water and lettuce after all.

Second, one morning I went to wipe and things just didn't feel right. Well duh, my ass hole was outside of my body.. Yeah, not cool. I just shoved that lining back up in there and prayed that it would just stay there.

It brought back terrible memories to me. I have such butt hole issues. Got to keep that shit clean, literally. The worst being, and I am proud of myself for sharing this, being intimate with my boyfriend of 1991, really the second guy I was ever with, and we are on his twin bed, Aveda candles burning, Julia Fordham playing. Porcelain in my head, his head you know where and all of a sudden my butt becomes a milk duds factory as I watch one land on the bed. You can imagine my horror. He grabs a tissue and cleans it right up assuring me it is natural. Right, if I'm sitting on a toilet or making shit bombs in the forest; but not while being intimate. 

I make light of it, but it has scared me for decades and one reason why I have intimacy issues. The other reason being a survivor of rape and just having moments of that shame outfit always on, like temple garments or something.

It makes me remember how my grandma, who was my best friend and soul mate and schizophrenic, would always make me bathe when I stayed over to get the filth off of me, so she could be around me. I just never feel like I rinse it off enough. I feel like all anyone sees is that filth. My mind plays the reel of filthy little fag over and over. I almost never hear it any more. But it does visit from time to time and on those days I invite it in and let it see just how fabulous and fierce I am!! Rise above baby.

This year has been fucking rough and as I peel away the layers of protective and shame infused layers I've hauled around with me; I remind myself that I always rise above. I always try to flow like water, never fighting, just going along for the ride. At the same time, I push push push on, push out, search within. Then it hit me: to be water and rise above I must swell like the river after a winter's melt. By releasing I allow myself to be supported by the shores and water ways that surround and guide me. Namely, YOU ALL. Your continual love and support allow me to melt and grow and uncover the truth of who I am and what I have to give. 

That feeling is so wonderful! Unbounded joy and bliss. And I am just a firm believer of letting it out, by not keeping my shame hidden, allowing light on it, I recognize that I needn't keep in the dark, skirting around the shadows, cheating my angles to appear more, or less, depending.

Here is to all of us as we love into our dark season! Me we continue to be the light we are to each other. I am always here for you; as I know you are for me! Grab me and hold on if you need me. 

Hold on

Recently, I've become aware of just how much I hold on. Hold on for dear life. Hold on until tomorrow. Hold on to the past. Hold my breath. Hold out for perfection, what a laugh. It all really hit me at my sisters wedding a few weeks ago....

She and I have been through a lot together. Sometimes I marvel at just what the human condition can endure. I was an emotional wreck leading up to the day; and for those of you that know, I prefer to be a rock in public... It all goes back to being strong and never let anyone seeing me weak. The sign of weakness would ruin me. It is really the reason I walk with such an elevated gait. I have always had to push myself above my fear otherwise I would have never ventured out into my life. Holding on to my fear by presenting fearless.

Anyway(s), I pretty much cried the whole day. Seeing my sister wrapped in the love of her family and friends and walking down the isle by dad, tears. Having her daughters light candles with them to join their bond, tears. Seeing her dance with the man she loves, tears of uncontrollable joy. I didn't realize how much I had been holding on until I realized I didn't have to do so any longer. And I fucking bawled in the gazebo as I let my armpits dry out while the line worked through the buffet.

My family is amazing. I am so lucky to come from such stock that we hold on for one another and guarantee that we find safety and love along each leg of our own journey. I'm getting sidetracked. Back to holding on. It seems like it is all I have ever done. It's like I'm always on countdown or something, but for what??? To start living my life? I'm pretty sure I do a pretty good job at doing that(wink). And sometimes I feel like I am living someone else's life. I mean, I know it is my life but sometimes I feel I am holding on so tight that there is no room for me to breathe because my grip is taking up so much fucking room.

I have been reminded of this even more as I encounter friends that are being brave and coming out and being proud of who they are and standing on new ground and facing their fears so as to not hold on to something they are not. To drop that fissade is one of the hardest things to do. To drop the veil around our own truths takes real courage. To stop worrying what others will think of oneself is so hard to do. So what do we do? We hold up the images we think people want to see so that we can protect who we truly are.

It is even more evident these days, as I date myself, as I see people (even families) hanging out but never interacting. Phones always in hand checking in and updating but never exchanging words. Lol lol lol but only via text, the world is silent and yet we all scream.

Posing for memories, but never living the moment. I know this is funny coming from a Davis, because we all know that our family is always ready for a photo;) we love to capture our joy. Hold on to the good times.

The reason I love to hug so much is because human interaction is important and I love that moment of breathing into another person and realizing the hug is so much better when I don't hold on. Knowing that I am not alone and that I am so lucky to have a life that allows me to share so deeply the love of life with others is a memory I want to hold on to. Yet, I choose not to because I love living the moment each and every time I get to hug you, holding on without clinging on for dear life.

Holding on for the next season, for the next pay period, for love, for my truth, for a better me.

I have had a rough year. Most of us

have had rough years. Holding on for a break. Thank goodness for the summer;) everyone has been telling me how great my tan is; and I always respond the same," well, I haven't been able to do much but crawl to the backyard and layout." It's not a joke. But I laugh about it because it is where I am at and I like to have fun, so I make the best of it. I held on to my heels all summer. I love them so much. I love how I feel in them. Dancing in them. Walking down the stairs in them. Walking down the streets of Astoria in them. And I have to let go. I let go, only to make room for more. Daylight is everywhere and I will be graceful no matter what stance I take;) oh, you will see!!  Our show DRAGALUTION 2015 is going to blow up your skirt and flutter your panties;)

I feel like I've been all over the place tonight. I'm, clearly, not holding on to form lol lol lol, the world is silent. 

The truth is out there;)

Daylight here;) how y'all doing? Myself, I've had a rough go at things and then Marco told me these silly rumors going all around about him and it just makes me giggle and want to tea bag a few folks. But I'm a lady, right, and I rise above. I always rise, I am Daylight!!!

Just so you know, the rumors, although flattering and so exciting are just NOT TRUE. I don't perpetuate false facts so I will not repeat the silly but flattering story. Instead, I'm going to tell you another silly and romantic (not) story.  This one came back like a photo you thought had been destroyed and yet there it is on Facebook for someone's throw back Thursday and clearly you had thrown more back than a Thursday from the looks of the photo.....

Anyway(ssss), I was visiting with my brother,Ken and his partner (Kevin) on the couch looking out at the river, thumbing through late 80's early 90's Playgirls, and just giggling at everything there is to giggle about.....and the subject of me being single came up along with one of my favorite punch lines from the 'first time I was raped' story ( which I have to make lite of from time to time, it is how I get over things). That line being,"and that is why I can't stand the smell of ylang ylang" (best said out loud). 

SO MY TALE:

I'm one of those guys that is just always single. Another part of my healing was putting up walls and talking nasty,it gave/gives me space. I've told you before of my 7 year dry spells. One of the first ones came the fall of 95' in Manhattan. I was hanging out with my room mate Kim and she found me the perfect man in the back of the looking section of the Village Voice. It should have stopped there but nnnoooo she had to pester me about it and convince me that I should call 'mister 6' dark and handsome, likes walks in Central Park, picnics, theater and laughter.' I had one condition: she and our friend Michelle were to tail me and we had a few signals worked out for emergency exit strategies:)

The day of the 'date' came and the girls cracked me up with their Peter Sellers meets the North Avenue Irregulars outfits of camel colored London fog raincoats, dark glasses and fedoras. I had never seen anything so perfect, that moment alone was worth the hell about to be unleashed on me.

He said I would know him by his purple bike and red beret, reason number two I should not have gone. Well.... Imagine my surprise to not see the man he described himself as but rather a 5'9" fella with a nose that would make Babs cry and the hair of Kenny G, but shorter and crammed under the beret, think Elaine from Steinfield. I still walked up to him and introduced myself. He seemed pleased. I followed him to the coffee shop ignoring my safety code for later.

He was really interesting and he asked such probing questions about my life prior to this moment with him. I talked, cause that is what I do when I am nervous in public. Well, and sweat sooo bad, and go buck toothed and play with the sugar bowl. I managed to keep my cool. It was hard to not laugh at the girls who were making gestures to me and wanting to go. I said my good bye, I almost never put out on the first date. I gave one of those awkward hugs where I don't let my penis near his so that there is the chance of tips touching, I didn't want him to think I was interested. Because I most certainly wasn't.  He, however, had different plans.

He called a few days later. He had some follow up questions. He opened with,"I wasn't completely honest with you the other day...." My eyes roll in my head as I reach for a cig.

"I am not just a Pegan, I am High Priest of the New York Pegans." My eyes continue to roll, I take a deep drag as I think ,'no, you're just HIGH'

And he continues with," I knew when I met you that you were going to be mine (I didn't know I had no choice) and I'm using my powers as High Priest to do a binding spell to make you mine for eternity." Am I really hearing all this bull shit... Then he goes on to say," I came home and did a sexual binding something or other (those are my words because I honestly can not remember what he called it because I was so stunned I still hadn't even hung up yet) ritual and made a painting of our love and I want to give it to you. Can I come over?" Ok here we go. I make an excuse to get off the phone and light another cig. Is this really my fucking life?

He actually calls a few days later.

He opens with," I can't give you the painting I made you."

I reply, without missing a beat,"what!!! You are just mean! Why even tell me about it?!" I was messing with him:)

"I was doing another sexual binding dance last night and I came on the painting and it is now sacred so it has to remain here." He responded in a tone of high English.

I inhale the rest of my cig and as I exhale I say," please never call me again!!!!!" And I hung up the phone and hit the bar. F.U.C.K.

Fast forward to June. I'm at Central Park skating at the roller disco that happens every weekend. As I'm leaving the smoking fine asses in hot shorts and Lycra to cross back home I spot a scene being set up. I instantly thought, "oh goodie!!! A play in the park."

I plop my skinny ass bleach blond club kid ass down on the grass and wait for the fun to begin. Then it hits me!!! It's summer solstice and this is the Pegan gathering and wouldn't you know it if that sun of a gun wasn't being carried in on a fucking throne carried by 8 muscle men.. Unbelievable. I think he saw me. I hoped that the hair color change threw him off my scent. I didn't wait to see, I swished it out if there quicker than a hooker on a zipper.

And that, my friends, is why I don't do online dating, hook ups or blind dates. They just get too weird too fast and it makes me feel not so funny inside and

out;)

On the couch post DRAGALUTION

Getting to August 8 was one of the most difficult journeys of my life. I was physically unable to walk weeks leading to the show and was set free from the pain long enough to take to the streets and the stage only to be cast back upon the golden green cushions on my couch. It has been here, stranded in my home, that I have come to face myself for the first time in my life. Fully and without recoil. I've had a huge revelation. It is a multi-fold revelation. I've glimpsed a few aspects of it all. I will start with this reoccurring flashback to my 11th year which almost seamlessly works into another aspect of my unfolding.

The flashback:

I know I've shared this before, so I'll fast forward through it. A summer birthday party 1980. All of the kids ( a combo of 4 or 5 Catholic families so usually enough for 2 teams) are playing football on the side yard. Well, all but me.... I'm too fat. I'm too slow. I always drop the ball. I run like a girl. There were always a multitude of reasons why I didn't get to play. I'm sitting on the brick wall by the kitchen eating an ice cream come cupcake when one of the moms asked why I wasn't playing. I told he. Next thing: the kids are being told that if they don't play with me, they will be punished...OR ELSE! 

From that day on, I knew that all the kids were just being nice to me.. OR ELSE. Here is where I discovered the root of the chip on my shoulder my mother always refered to. I just never saw it until yesterday.

I realized that was when I started pushing more fiercely than ever before. I went way over the too just to see how far they would go to avoid the OR ELSE. In many ways, it is what pushed me to be a leader. Being in a small town, I figured all the kids were given the OR ELSE memo. I worked hard to be on top only because it kept me from facing the reality that I was just 'chub rub Davis' who no one wanted on their team.

I do not begrudge the path. I am grateful for how I had to climb above it all. The thing I realize it has done is to condition me to always push, generally, the line. By doing that push, no matter how much I grew from it, I have isolated myself in a way that I can love without letting it sink into me.

I've been melting these past few years. I understand aspects of my resistance to intimacy in friendships and in sexual ways too. I see that I've pushed myself to be so self-propelling that I have made it nearly impossible to have space within my soul in order to never be picked again. This drive became my own OR ELSE.

Now, don't think that I have not had close loving relationships because I have so many of them. I've just never allowed them to penetrate into my soul for fear of being vulnerable and to be seen completely.

The thing is, it is I who has not seen. I've spent the last 34 years never looking at myself, only aspects of the whole. You, my friends, have taught me to do that through my journey as Daylight. Crazy. Right?!

This leads me to my next revelation:

Because of the

OR ELSE, I went places in my life I never would have gone. I had to face my fears so that no one would find my weakness. I have challenged, you, my friends from my boundary pushing. Y'all have seen me through so many phases of self expression and explosion. You have seen me through serious drinking and abusive relationships; MFA and NYC; platform shoes, mannequins, body glitter, blonde hair, red  hair, black hair to no hair. And most recently, as a big-ol-queen in a small fishing town and you support me, and love me and that has caused the shift for me. YOU HAVE BROUGHT ME TO MYSELF.

This rebel has come home and realized that it is time to allow you in. I will not push any longer. I will open and allow you within. I am ready to share myself with you. I can not thank you enough for sticking with me and pushing me to see myself. I feel as if the shell of my persona has finally split and has started to allow the essence of my being to take root and grow within the glowing light of your unrelenting affection. With an open heart I breathe my light fully for you.

Forever yours,

Daylight

Post Regatta

What an incredible weekend!!! I always get so nervous before a show and start to doubt every breath I take. This show in particular has really put me through my paces as a director, but more importantly as a performer.  I had to stop myself, almost every day, from canceling the show. It is just so hard on my body and I was not about to give up the heels;) and Daylight has so much to teach me. Mostly, grace under pressure..

Yes, it is true, I was having my very own pity party; I tried keeping it contained mostly in my head, but it made it's way to the surface on more than one occasion. The worst was two weeks from the show and me unable to walk. I had to cancel an entire week of work, hobble or crawl and just lay around doing nothing; which is something I am NOT very good at. I like keeping busy and being active in the community.

The months leading up to this week of collapse were heavy and heart sick months. I was not able to be as active as I like, my ass was falling, by belly growing and my hair getting thinner. Not to mention, that I was just not feeling worthy of much.

Then, like a flash of lightening, or an elk running in front of your racing car at midnight , I woke up and realized how I was forgetting my mission. I lost sight of the DRAGALUTION. How can I stand up and speak about taking chances and embracing who you are in the moment if I am picking myself apart in my mind and letting those picks fester like invisible leprosy covering my entire being. Consuming me from the inside out.

That is not what Daylight would have me do. Oh no, oh hell no. She would make me dress it up and get the fuck out of the house and walk it off. I HEARD HER YELLING, "WALK IT OF DAVIS, WALK IT OFF."

And I did just that!! Well, it was more of a crawl still. I started devising how the show would be if I was still in this condition.

My first move was to keep the rehearsals and really work with my stars to help them shine more brightly and without having to depend on me for visual reference. That week really was what we needed to take our show to the next level. It gave the cast the confidence in the movement to own their own steps and not to rely on me for what comes next!!!!

I had already re-worked the show with me and a walker, still in the heels of course, but it would have made the show much more comedic, which is a fabulous thing (and I almost did it even though I got my full range of motion back)..

That same week we were being interviewed by the Coast Weekend for the cover story on Regatta weekend; an enormous honor, especially with the editor herself writing it!!

And.... That very week the Conversation with Matt hit cyber space and it got my whole psychic being fluttering out of control.

I mean, I know I love this community, but hearing myself talk about it really hit home, my home town Astoria, Oregon!!

And that very week I got all of the paperwork in and filed to run for Ciry Council for Ward 3!!  THIS HAS ME VERY EXCITED!!! I will be making a public statement shortly (wink)...

And then, that same week, I got an award from Basic Rights Oregon for being a movement maker in our community!!!

I was feeling blissed out and so loved and supported.

It really is what gives me the strength to do what I do and to shine as I shine. Without the love and support from the people that reach out and touch my life and soul from all slopes of this planet, especially the ones in this community, I would not have nearly the courage I do to step out as I must.

Some say that me being a drag performance artist is going to be a huge road block on my path to City Council. My response is that I'm living my life in the open. I am not hiding anything about who I am as a community member. It is only one aspect of what I do. 

Anyway(ssss), the week of the show, I feel like a million bucks! The show is looking so tight and the music video is looping on my under eye lids, begging to be watched over and over again..... I love you Coln Smith and your vision and that we speak the same kind of art!!!!!

The night of the show, we are getting ready to shine. Friends are coming over to have help with their looks for the show and raise a glass of good cheer. One of my favorite parts is the 'parade' walk from our house to the theater!!! I think we had like 30 with us this year! As we approach the theater, the line has already begun and we mingle and hug as we make our way to back stage.

For this show, I did a few things differently, the big one was to have us all mingle pre-show and actually start our performance from the house and bring them all with us, energetically, back to the stage as we opened with 'hard cock life' a personal favorite!!

The other thing was that we had a few information tables in the lobby. One selling raffle tickets for the new teen center and the other for the Q center we will be opening in town!!! These are things that are needed in our town, things that have not really been supported in years past. It was a really good thing and both groups got their word out. That really is what it's all about... Being aware of what our community needs and working at making it happen. We can do anything when we work together...

And that is what DRAGALUTION is all about!! It's about loving one another despite our differences and to shine as brightly as we can as often as we feel comfortable doing so!!

It was evident Friday night, that OUR community is into it.. Almost every single person in the sold out theater was in costume!!!! That made my heart swell!

It was such an incredible night, so much overflowing love coming from every direction!

Then.... The Regatta Parade... We kind of got to lead the way, being at the front and all!!! We had a bubble machine and 46 North Farms supplied me with a ton of flower petals that we scattered as we fluttered through town, picking up people that wanted to join our celebration along the way.....

It's Monday, my body feels like I just got home from I don't know what but it kicked my ass;) and all I can do is smile and sink in to the joy I feel knowing we are all on the same page and so ready to be in this space together, helping one another grow, share and understand something greater than

us alone.

I am stronger from your love.

I thank you for supporting us and joining us on our DRAGALUTION !!!

I am always here for you

Ready to lend a hand

Give a hug

Lift you up!!

I am yours completely,

Daylght

Before the parade passes by

Regatta is just a few weeks away!!!! Last year, DRAGALUTION had a float in the Regatta parade and we won Presidents choice!!! It was quite the fluttering of emotions that day. I have the trophy hanging in the drag lab and each time I look at it I remember how exciting it was to put myself out there with my friends and allow everyone to see us in our happy glory; expressing our inner sparkle and waving at our friends and families as we rolled on by. It reminds me that everyday can feel that alive. All I have to do is bring it.

I signed up DRAGALUTION for a float again this year! And then I hesitated. You may wonder why. Well, let me tell you. I was told we could do the parade again but there could be no puffy vagina shirt and it can't say daylight cums because that is too offensive. Ok....I said thanks for letting me know and I just chose not to react to the situation. I thought about it a lot. " Nobody sensors me" was looping through my head. 

All of a sudden, I flash back to country fair about 6 years ago when I was wandering around in the dark and this army of white floating orbs came bouncing by being carried by people dressed in white satin with black balls clown suits and this woman was wandering with them shushing people loudly so that everyone would be quite as we watched the white balls bounce.... WELL... I was having none of that. No one shushes me I muttered to my friends as I took off running through the bouncing balls with my kimono fluttering behind me as I was consumed with uncontrollable laughter...

And then, I was pulled back to my present thought of just not doing the parade this year. This debate went on for a month. Mostly in my head but I did talk about it too because I just found it so silly. Maybe because I just didn't see anything wrong with the big pink fuzzy vagina. Most of us came out of one, it's familiar. The cums I get totally. Honestly, we didn't even have that until the last minute when a sign was made to stay 'DRAGALUTION' and the website: www.daylightcums.com was written in maybe 2 inch high letters at the bottom.

People don't get bothered or offended by men with guns marching down the streets but the gay guy with the fuzzy vagina that is just wrong. Wrong. Wrong I tell you:)

No one mentioned that it was the first time drag queens were in the parade, and we won. Nope. Just the fuzzy vagina. I think it is kind of sweet. 

The first thing you should know is I never set out to offend. I may enjoy pushing buttons and make people pause and think, but never offend. And the person and buttons I push the most are mine. It is no easy thing to walk out and be me. I get scared a lot, but I will not let that stop me. And being a big ol queen takes a whole other set of balls and they don't usually feel too good;)

Anyway(sssss), we are doing the parade!! There will be no fuzzy vagina or cums.  Our float is even better than last year and our dance will be more open and loving than you can possibly imagine. 

This float is about our DRAGALUTION, about our courage to march to the beating of our drums and allowing people to drink in our beauty no matter how shy or awkward we may feel. As always, I open my arms in invitation, if you feel like you want to sparkle with us in the parade, come join us in celebration of everything fabulous in our town!!! If you need help with costumes, Garbo's Vintage in Astoria is Co-sponsoring the parade and if you go in and mention you want to join us she will give you a deal!!!! 

I am just so excited about these next few weeks and getting to share some time with you all!! Catch you out there 

Love,

Daylight

My OCF upgrade

I have been trying to wrap my brain around the soul shift I have experienced this past week at the Oregon Country Fair.  I had anticipated the reunion with my fair family and was so anxious to have the time to reconnect with my essence.  For myself, going to the fair is being given the opportunity to shine more brightly than I normally get to and to flutter as I wish I could on a daily basis.

I went down a few days early so I could meet with some mentors and guides of my own and get some perspective. Monday evening, while visiting with a very dear friend and talking about a few others over whiskey and ginger, I was able to talk about my friend Jack Watson and how much I loved working with him and the wonderful shows we built together. 

The following morning I found out that he had passed on that night....I....he taught me so much and trusted in my strange and odd movement choices for choreography:) 

I had a coffee date with another guide and while sharing our stories several people that I worked with along side of Jack happened to come in and we were able to pay him tribute and share our loss together. 

I spent a lot of my pre-fair prep waiting for others to get their things done so that we could go and prepare for an intense undertaking for this year. Namely, we were taking over a very popular coffee booth for this year because it's organizer had passed on two weeks prior to the fair. It was exciting and so sad all in the same breath. 

The thing that go me was that not many people had heard of her passing so as we were building a new counter, rethinking the space and trying to keep our shit together on the cusp of a full moon in an incredible world known as the fair, we had to watch faces shift from pure joy to wavering and heart sick sorrow and shock. The falter and faint is always hard for me...having grown up in a household of underlying sorrow and being an altar boy at funerals I have learned to be around people in total grief. I learned not to react as I held the plate under quivering chins of mascara smeared faces walking two by two to receive communion. I learned to be ok with not being scared to death walking into the nursing home every weekend to see my grandma, I was taught to be a caregiver from a very young age and I have always lived to be of service to anyone in need. It is a gift I cherish deeply.

So, my fair went in a completely different direction than I thought it would. The crazy thing was that I was surrounded by so much tension and sorrow and all I had within me to give was joy. I was so full of love and patience and calm. It was the strangest thing, really it was.

And.... Our booth was a TOTAL UPGRADE!!! We had a balcony that was so cool.  My favorite part was on Saturday sitting up there with Melanie, Lillian and many other friends and blasting people down below with squirt guns filled with ice water to cool them off on the extremely hot day. People begged for it! Then, there was the fishing pole that we attached cookies to and had people catch them with their mouths. It was AWESOME and it made so many people stop, look up, participate and laugh.

Friday was incredible too! I got all Daylight dressed up, I even wore my heels for many hours and fluttered thorough the masses of people. I stood for many photos and had shared moments with hundreds of people, all of whom hugged this big old queen wandering the forest in search of other like minded spirits; I was surrounded.

The one thing that played over and over in my mind was a fight my mom and I had my summer before my senior year of high school. She told me I just walk around with this huge chip on my shoulder and I just need to let go of it. Hadn't thought of that in many years, and while I was strolling I tried to recall what put that chip there.

You see, the chip was really a means of hiding all of the pain and suffering I was going through because I couldn't stand the thought of making my mother worry or suffer any more than she already had.

I couldn't let her know I was being beaten up every day at school, that I was afraid for my life to be anywhere alone and that I not sure how I could possible survive another day in this scary world. 

So for me, the fair has always been my time to go and find a deeper means of strength so that I can be fueled up and have the strength and courage to stand within my being and shine without shame. This is no easy feat. Shame has been the under layer to most of the outfits of my life and in that forest I don't need my under things of shame.

This fair was a big one for me. I stepped way beyond any place I had ever hoped to be able to. I swished my little gay ass through that wonderful maze of people and I shared myself eye to eye and heart to heart with everyone.

And I realized that my DRAGALUTION is just such a mission in life. It is about finding the courage to be and to be fierce and fabulous and raw and beautiful and dirty and free and open and alive and peaceful.  We are so blessed to get to share our lives together, highs and lows and to listen, observe, participate and grow. I want you to see me in all of my light and darkness. I want to share my humanity and my mystical magical spirited self with you, everyday. 

All my love,

Daylight

Oregon Country Fair is calling

It's that time of year when my spirit gets really excited about making its journey to the Oregon Country Fair to re-charge and flutter with other spirits of the worlds:)

I always have a sign. It is a dragonfly. For the last year one finds me and spends a bit of time circling me and it's wing vibrations hit my ear drum with a, "we are so excited to be with you again! May you find what you are in search of and my the light always shine upon you." I get chills and warm and gooey each time it happens:)

This year, not only did I have an excited circling of dragonflies, yes plural, all vibrating the same thing, "Daylight... Daylight... It's important for you to be there this year. Bring your wings and fly with the Elders." I also unwrapped a perfectly preserved dragonfly from my head of butter lettuce that my friend, Teresa at 46 North Farm, had cut for me. He is proudly being held by a piece of amathyst on my altar.

Then, Isa stopped me the other day asking if she could use a pair of my wings at fair for her lawn dance with the elders at opening!!! Ah, the Universe does unfold in the most glorious ways. I was already planning on bringing my gold wings, and now I shall bring a few more and flutter with the Elders:) as you wish.

The fair has always assisted in helping me break free of the constraints I have about my image, spirit and the general way I find to hide myself from a true full view of who I really am. I am accepting the shadows of my being, they help me to see the glorious beauty of my light. What I love best is the open eye contact and heart to heart hugs without keeping the pelvis suspended behind, held by a fish hook in midair. We all know that hug. We want to embrace, but we keep our root chakra out of the way because we have been conditioned to keep those from getting near another. Heaven forbid there be actual contact. I have been a pro with this embrace for years. It's only been in the past 10 years that I have stopped holding back I my hugs. And I giggle each time I have a new hug do that... It is just so sweet and innocent in so many ways.

The fair is also where I learned to feel comfortable with my shirt off, especially while sitting down. And the last time I was there I went to the Ritz with my best friend Melanie and her daughter Lilian and we steamed and showered together with the rest of our fair family and it was one of the most soul cleansing, body opening experiences of my life. I can't even begin to tell you:)

Anyway(sss), this year, I have no expectations. I am not going to try to relive any particular moment. I will do as the dragonfly whispered, I will bring Daylght and together we will flutter or spirit song amongst the spirits of the fair and keep our hearts and eyes open as the path opens before us!!!

If you are at fair, I hope our paths cross so we can have a heart to heart hug and giggle. I'll be over by the liberty cup if you care to ask around.... Or follow the beat, we will collide.

Love,

Daylight

Happy Mid-Summer Festival Time!

"A mid-summer day in a fishing town; tonight we celebrate...."

Those are the opening words to Shanghaied in Astoria our very own local historical melodrama. Tonight is the Queens Coronation for our Scandinavian Queen, sadly it won't be me. I'm too old and I'm not really Scandinavian;)

That didn't stop me and my siblings from getting to be Scandinavian dancers and being part of this amazing bit of Astoria tradition. I was in 6th grade and began as a Nordic dancer and in high school was a Viking dancer. We had rehearsals on Tuesday nights at Shively Hall. I can still hear the music begin as we would practice and learn new dances. The dances told stories of harvests, romance and life. Little man in a fix was always one of my favorites!

Anyway(ssss), this time of year was always exciting! I always loved seeing all of the wild flowers that had been gathered by the princesses to make their boquettes to place under their pillows for dreams of a bright future with a loving man. I always joined in the tradition. I would linger around and 'tidy up' the scraps and sneak some into my blue and gray skor windbreaker for later to place under my pillow to dream of my Scandinavian prince.

The guys, which included me when I was I. High school, got to help with erecting the May pole. It was always just so distracting! All those Scandinavian men yanking the cords together to get the pole in the hole and locked in place. It was almost as satisfying as watching the tug of war between countries!! That was ALWAYS a not to miss event.

My favorite year was the year my BFF got to be Miss Findland (hey girl!!!). She asked me to be her flag bearer, which, let's face it, was the closest I would ever get to being a Scandinavian queen (wink). 

This was 1988, I was working at El Mundo for men in Seaside. I had an amazing out fit of a charcoal silk shirt, camel and black woven linen shorts with a long black bet that knotted and had silver on the tip and black scrunch socks with my penny loafers. It was a very good outfit and with my bleach banged hair and bold hair spray there was noting that could ruin my role.... Until I started sweating... Huge circles under my arms. I looked like I had been carrying a huge wet turkey under each arm....all those people watching. I never had to fight so hard to keep my arms down, me being Italian and 'theatrical' and all.

I digress.. After the queen is crowned, (it went to Iceland because tradition has it that whenever one is actually found she must be honored. My BFF had hands down the best speach and is a Finnish immigrant so really it should have gone to her, but that is my opinion), everyone would go out for the burning of the hexes! This was always my favorite, ever since I was a young boy this was the tradition for me. I remember one of the elders telling me that we burn the hexes as a symbol of things we want to be free from.  I usually burnt 5-12 depending;)

Then, we had the polka dance in the cafeteria and danced the night away. I was on the floor a lot. I loved dancing with the elders and my friends, of course, but I always felt so glamorous with the elders. 

There was this one couple that came from some place out of town; they were always there for the big dance Saturday night. They were both very good looking and two of the most polished performers I had ever seen. I hope they still attend.

Well, there was my friend Kevin that was INCREDIBLE! I always got him to show me moves, especially the hombo ( which I never could get). He was so powerful on the floor and I know he still dances!

It has been a long while since I've been to the festival, kind of broke my heart when it left the high school, never felt the same at the fair grounds. I may get to go this year. If not, I always have the memories in my soul and they pop back to life so fully in my muscle memory every time.

As I was driving out to get my first ever CSA, I had it all flash so strongly in my mind as the fox gloves waved at me as I drove down 202 on my way to 46 north farm.

I love so much that I was raised with the experiences of flower dreams, hexes, May pole dances and friends and family dressed in traditional costume celebrating heritage and pride. It is those conditioning moments and the rest of the life expanding experiences I am fortunate to be able to participate in that cause me to push beyond that which I'm familiar with in order to become more fully who I am.

This year has been huge in the shifting and understanding of who I am. This past week was incredible that way. I discovered that even though I am an open and expressive person, I am very guarded and have physically adjusted my posture to protect and that has lead to some of my chronic pain. I spoke it out loud, I understand what I must do and with this mid-summer as I burn my hexes I hope to allow my walls of protection around my soul to fall so that I may be able to experience my life more fully than ever before!

Astoria, I love you!!!!!

Seeing the 7 year pattern...or.....attempts at love and by love I mean love

So, I'm laid up in the backyard. I sprained my ankle watering the yard. Anyway(sssss), this time of year is always rough on me and every 7 years it is worse because it involves 2 overlapping pasts I have worked through/am working on/will continue to work on until I can recognize the pattern and step beyond.i am going attempt to convey the spiritual side of my being and alittle about my sexual life... The patterns are always swimming in my mind and I see them in my visual world too so finding words is going to be interesting... Here I go:

On any given day at any given moment I can see my life past, present, future and all the paths and connections to everything to it. It's all just there. It's why I'm so good at remembering things. Even though I'm good at letting go of things I still remember them. No hold over me,  just a bit of my history.

I recently mentioned that I am a survivor or rape. This time of year is the 'anniversary' of one of them.  So, I always get a bit reflective about my life. How it makes me feel. How far I've come being able to find love for myself again. This year has been the best yet!! Now, every 7 years, I get courageous enough to open myself up to the possibility of being in a relationship again.  My most successful one was 7 years ago and it lasted 6 months, which is a record for me:)

I've learned a lot. I've let go of a bunch of my fuckedisms.

I see myself. Flaws and all and I like who I am!

Except..this is a strange one to explain..because of all the incredible and close male relationships I have, I have trained myself to be able to disconnect myself from my cock. I severed that desire current so that I could be close without making my friends sexually uncomfortable. Which I know is weird because we are all so odd and sexually perverted and like to talk nasty. It gets awkward but we all know I mean no harm;) It has been my greatest meditation because I could never wish for a more incredible, tough, caring, talented, generous and funny loving group of friends I call my family. We really are so lucky to have what we have y'all!!!! I hope it's not strange that I'm talking about us, but it gets to the root of my issue....hehehe

BELIEVE IT OR NOT... In the not too far past, but far enough to be a memory.... I had the opportunity to hangout with a fella.  I know! Stop the presses....I'm talking about it. I made out with a man and I liked it!!!

And you know, I am one of those fuckers that I get so frustrated with on the daily...I SUCK FACE HARD IN PUBLIC AND MAYBE DO A LITTLE DRY GRIND. I just can't help myself. It's that 7 year itch I just can't get enough and I want to be on and in everything at once past present and future!!!!

Oh, you've maybe seen me do it before...

Well, we end up going to his place and I just get shy, and my 'I' I mean my dick. Oh, it's dripping with excitement it just isn't being given the permission to salute this beauty before me..

All of my training has made it really difficult to pay attention at the best show in town!!! Damnnnnn. I'm actually explaining all this to him as we are on the bed getting it on:) which I'm so proud of the fact I am addressing the issue of my shy penis.

I didn't hear from him again. But I've heard my beating heart and I remember what it feels like to feel alive again.

I'm reminded of the first time I felt after being raped, 12 years of no feeling, I was in Contact Improv. I've mentioned this before. The pattern is so clear and as soon as I can find that last thread connecting my mind to my cock I will be able to step away and be free and visit my 7 year issue no more...

I have my quest! I am a warrior and I will make my way through the terrain of my being and uncover the root and set it free!!! I'm mounting my unicorn and I soar glitter flying everywhere past presnt and future all in one breath.....

The swelling pride within

As pride approaches, I have been given the gift of knowledge of the advocates in my life from way back in Catholic school! I adore finding out parts of my past that affected me, yet I had no part in it at all.

I have a dear friend who I get to see every week or so, if our schedules cross as such. She was a parent at Star of the Sea and one of my ALL time favorite classy ladies ever!!! Anyway(ssssss), awhile back she was telling some girls how important it was to have a best gay friend, they are invaluable, and how my friends were lucky to have me as theirs. I'm the lucky one!! I asked, "ok, so did you know I was gay at Star?"

She laughs at me and replies,"oh honey, you were everyone's special little gay that we all fought so hard to protect." It got me deep...I told her I wish that someone would have let me in on it especially with the weekly reports from the priest about how sinful it was, as well as masterbation and not being a Catholic (that was directed to the 4 or 5 kids that were not Catholic but going to school with us). She said it was a different time and they thought it was better to shield me.. 

So today, I run into a friend who has a class that my favorite teacher from Star takes and they were talking about me.  She said she was the first one to mention something to my parents about the possibility of me being gay.. I acted all cool. I wanted to run home and verify with my mom if it was true.

She can't remember. I am the memory for my family, a role I love and cherish. This is what my mom said: " you have always been you. I only see people that way,

as they are."  I love her so much and it is true... She has always given all of her kids the power and freedom to be themselves, even if we are too afraid to do so.

She asked me many times if maybe I was....gay and I never wanted to disappoint her so I always skewed the truth. I didn't really fully come out to my parents until I was 31 and dating someone in town and wanted them to know first before the gossip bus pulled over to tell them;)

Our lives are our lives and they unfold as they will. I am grateful for how mine has lead me. After this news today, I wonder what my life would have looked like if my parents and my 5th grade teacher would have had that discussion with me... Would I have been brave enough to come out in this little fishing town then? Would I have found more joy? Been willing enough to allow myself to be open and love?

The truth is, it wasn't until winter term of 2001, at the UO, in Contact Improvisation that I understood that I can be touched and supported and loved. That bodies can move in space and spiral and lift and breathe; struggle to reach heights all the while gravity is pulling one towards the earth. It was there I found my heartbeat and I knew that I was finally in my body and free to live my life.

Recently, I have just felt that I am not enough in my life. I was standing and noticed that I could not feel my feet touching the earth. I felt like I just disappoint everyone. My feelings, I know, but I wanted to understand them. What I've gleaned is that I lost contact with myself, I allowed myself to be pulled down in the tides of my emotions and didn't realize all I had to do was stand up.

It is all we really have to do. Stand up. 

And so, I stand as I am, somedays glowing in perfection and other days not so much. I reach into the earth with my feet, to the heavens with my head and to the rest of the directions with my heart. 

Today, I expand my breath, I breathe from the fullness of my heart and move with the grace and beauty of who I am and I move with no other purpose but to be love. 

I used to be straight (continued)

"I had a dream, a dream about pussy, baby"

2 nights ago. I was engaged in the sexual act of eating out and since I've been off of candy, it was a candy pussy with a big old jaw breaker for a clit:) it was kind of a birthday cupcake kind of deal where it was made from red velvet cake and had glittery juicy frosting and that big jaw breaker just glistening in the warm sunlight as the woman it was attached to had her arms tied behind her back and she is encouraging me to give into my cravings and eat my treat like a good little boy.. She knows me all too well, is working her sweet charms on me trying to get me to just lick the clit. I know one taste of sugar and I will eat her cupcake pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner and all in one chew and swallow the jawbreaker whole. I must be strong!!!

The woman is known to me but her face is never revealed. It's a thing of beauty and a horror all at once. I know I have deep love for this woman but I am unable to fulfill her requests no matter how she begs for it.

The sense of desperation is all too familiar to me. Being the boy that has always craved perfection and approval from my parents, my mother especially, I have always pushed myself to do things to make it all alright and bring a smile to my mothers face.

Don't get me wrong, my parents love me!!! They have put up with my boundary pushing my entire life and I have been pushing that one since I could breathe. Even when I try to do good, I always manage to screw things up, and not in a good way.  The case of my engagement will prove to be such a tale.

In telling this, I mean no disrespect to anyone, it was a very difficult time and many people got wounded along this journey. This is my story and how it went down from my point of view.....

I fell in love with her fast and hard! She was so glamorous, wore Paris, had amazing huge hair and was so caring and sweet and we both smoked the same cigarettes:)

Of course there were major issues: I was Catholic, she was Mormon. We didn't care, but our families did. He mom made THE best tuna casserole!!! Crumbled potato chips and all. Her mom even ironed the sheets before she put them on the bed. It was a dream come true to me. 

I proposed on her 20th birthday at hug point. I packed a picnic in my vintage picnic basket, got a red and white checkered table cloth, champagne and glasses and set out to make the most romantic of gestures to her. Sure we had only been dating two and a half months but I could feel it and I knew it was now or never for me:) looking back, the whole scene was just too gay for words. It worked, she said yes and now what?

Well, her family was pissed; my family was pissed. " how will you raise the babies" "what faith will they be" " our two faiths don't blend well" where will you live" endless litanies were sung on both sides.

There came a point when she moved into our house. I set up my basement room for her and I moved into my brothers room while he was in the hospital dealing with his anorexia.

All at once these things happened:

I apply and get accepted into the Culinary Institute in Ny.

We are both in 42nd Street, the musical 'hello'

She drops out 

I get the lead

We are in family therapy for my brother

I am the cause of his troubles because he saw how everyone treated my from being fat and he never wanted to suffer that

I find his trunk

Each evening went down like this:

I'd get home from work or rehearsal and go down to her room and read The Chronicals of Narnia to her as I let my fingers do the walking. I would say good night and go to my brothers room and open the trunk and unfold the mysteries of gay porn as I turned the pages and allowed my own fingers do the walking.... What was happening to me!? How can this be?! I'm engaged to be married, I can't be gay.... I'll look at just one more magazine befor I go to sleep.. Sleep, yeah right. Tortured hell for me! Visions of hard dicks, furry men and bloody female parts.  I never quite recovered from some of the things I had to do to understand what it was to be a woman. I pulled on a few strings, if you know what I mean and I was all too familiar with Ronald McDonald face:) it got so bad when it was all said and done, I had to take tuna melts off of the menu because it was jus too much for my sensitive nose to bear. Sensitive nose, sensitive nose I had a super sensitive nose ( that is sung I the tune of Becky. Love ya girl!!!)

Back to the routine. I was falling. My world was crumbling and I didn't know how much longer I could keep my soul marble and fake my way through. It was so unfair to everyone. I was tormented and now I find out that my voice isn't strong enough for the high parts so they have another tenor step out and sing with me so I'd be heard (this was pre-body mic days). I was humiliated. Not only could I not fulfill my role as male in my personal life; my stage life was a weak unit too. So miserable.

Anyway, I have a plan materialize during one of my many sleepless nights: we will postpone the wedding until I graduate from culinary school. My speach was something like," we will postpone our wedding until I finish school.  We are both sooo young, you are only 20, let's take the two years, mature and grow and then get married."

She was not happy. Postpone=never baby.

She moved out while I was a work and I came home to a nice long letter. She tore me apart, I deserved it. In the letter she told me I should just tell the truth that I am gay and get on with it. She also said she was keeping the ring and turning it in for one more suitable for her finger. Whatever. I may have ruined her but I was free. Free!! Free, I tell you!

I still don't come out for over a year and a half and my brother does it for me.

I don't see her for a few years and when I do she makes sure I know she was sooo miserable she tried to kill herself. TWICE. I am sorry.  If you already knew I was gay why did it cause you so much pain? Better off without a gay husband, especially in Texas, which is where she ended up.

I've never done well in relationships. My main flaw is that I am a pleaser and will go to all lengths to make others happy. Which is not the key to a good relationship, and something I have been working so hard on overcoming. I have had many many years of therapy to work through my shit and telling this story is allowing me to finally be rid of the weight the pain has had on my being all these years.

I never meant to inflict pain. I never meant to be gay, it's just who I fucking am and I own my shit now:) too late for some things but not all;)

And this concludes my attempts at being straight. From that day forward I swished my gay walk with pride and determination and did so

until I fell on my face. But that is another story..

And the armor falls.....

I was laying poolside in Vegas, frustrated at the state of my finances, weight gain, and new need of reading glasses; surrounded by people who were wandering in control, charging it and maintaining their icy exteriors in the heat.  I was not having a potty party, it was quite the opposite. I was having a mind opening experience! 

I began watching how people moved. Where the weight was placed as they walked, how the arms didn't move and people only breathed from their belly buttons. And I saw it, I saw the answer to one of my life questions that I never have the words for to ask the question, but it is always nagging at me...I need to be free from my drive to control how I present myself. I move with a locked quality that keeps me from my free stride, the stride that gives it all away, my swish, my ' you want some fries with that shake' walk. I have been spending a lot of my time finally looking at myself with my teacher eyes and addressing he issues of my body that I choose to never look at because I generally can't bare to look at myself.

I have been unwinding the twisted spirals my body has fallen into over the years. I am discovering how to stand with my weight on both feet and how good it feels to breathe freely and fully feeling the three dimentional quality I so easily ignore.

The fin piece to the puzzle fell into place as I am watching people move around the pool. People being brave, wearing bait hint suits that they normally won't, all types of bodies there to soak up the warmth and escape the reality of their worlds. Vegas is awesome for that!  At the same time that these people are parading themselves around with the air of ' I don't care what these fuckers think because I'll never see them again' (at least that was playing in my mind) I see the restraint in their movements, arms held at the side, so swing no grace, just bodies moving through space. And that is when it hit me: let go. Stop holding on to the body and not allowing it to swing and ride the currents of the rhythmn of time and space. The final piece, let go and be free. 

It's hard to do, to walk and allow the arms to swing. I tried it out I one of the evenings I was walking on the strip back to Mandalay Bay. I chose not to hold on but to breathe fully, feel my feel against the ground and allow my body to swing gas I went. Felt real good. Then, I noticed I had stopped swinging, back to lockdown walk, tall and graceful true, but no life.

So, I began again being awRe of how I was moving allowing myself to let go even though my subconscious mind was trying to cling to the armor of my frozen gait and in that heat too.

I was starting to get the hang of it and then I heard, ' work it girl' and instead of doing my usual not acknowledging the shout outs and whistles; I did a look back turn and smile and kept the swing alive all the way back home.

By letting that go, I feel softer, more loving and honest than I have ever felt. The trick is to keep it flowing. I like the feeling of the swing when I walk. I like the feeling of filling my lungs full and allowing my soul some sunshine. I feel boundless and I have the attitude of FUCK IT! Not pissed off fuck it, but a fuck it that says fuck it I'm going to have a blast living in this moment and not feel like I need to keep myself compartmentalized so as to not make a ripple. 

I say fuck it to all of my rules that have kept me precise, I want to move like nature, like the wind in a storm at the beach, or across a field in August. I say fuck it to not feeling like I should hold myself back.

I am letting go and the most incredible part is the fact that I feel my heart beating more clearly and honestly than ever before!!

I'll see ya on the streets!!!

I was once straight

I was once straight. No, really I was.  I needed to be. I didn't really come out until I was 21ish, so the years before that I was straight (I know, right). I was even engaged, but I'll save that for another time. I want to tell you about my attempt at being a dude during the spring on 1988.

I was only the city league volleyball team, we liked to party, a lot. I can't really remember why, but we were having a group camping trip out at Fort Stevens and we were tearing it up on the sand hill side of the lake. I had been making my 'moves' on (we will call her 'sweetie') sweetie for awhile and my buddies were pushing me to make the move on her on this trip. I was nervous as fuck. How was I going to do this? I kind of liked her, but only in the regards to her hair and outfits, I was in now way attracted, but I was hopeful that she would be blurred by my charm, Drakkar Noir, and feathered hair... She won't notice the braces or the swish.

I knew I was going to need some liquid courage so I had a buddy buy me a fifth of tequila and a 2 liter of my personal favorite, California Cooler!!! I miss the days of being to buy a 2 liter of a wine cooler! We went out on the rubber boat on the lake and I guzzled the tequila in 3 swigs and started in on the California Cooler, finished that real quick and burped nice and loud, the echo was awesome.

By the time we got back to shore I was feeling G O O D! I mustered up the courage to ask her to go on a walk with me. She said yes. Fuck. Now I will have to go through with it. We are walking along, I am so wasted. I remember going to hold her hand, poor sweetie turned and was all like," what are you doing?"

I was like,'I'm trying to hold your hand...!i want you.... Let's kiss...'

She shoved me with that eew type of energy and was like, 'you are gay.'

WHA. WHA. How could she I'm thinking. My actions were something like: no I'm not! I'm going to grab you and kiss you and prove once and for all that I am straight.  Remember, I'm totally drunk right now. So I go in for the kiss and I know I must have looked the freakish scared and angry boy with braces and feathered hair trying to be straight and wishing I didn't have to go throughwith this but I just needed to.. It was a breaking point for me and probably one of my top ten lowest moments I can kind of remember.

She wiggled and slapped and freaked and called me names so I pushed her into the bushes and turned on my heels and swish staggered back to the group and then all hell breaks loose.

My other friend, "darling" was sitting on a table and was getting in my face about how stupid I was being and how drunk I was and I'm sure a bunch of other shit that I can't remember because I was so drunk. I all I remember was saying I hated her, yelling some more and then we slapped each other and I stormed off heading for the camp site.

I don't know how I made it back, all I remember is crawling and seeing A 12, A 14, A16, A 18, A 20 and then A22.

According to my brother, who had borrowed my car to go cruise the gut it seaside, when he got back he was calling out for me and all he heard was a,"hhheeelllppp mmmeeee" over and over again. I had managed to get into the tent and zip it back up and when he opened it he said I was laying in a sea of vomit. I HAD PUKED EVERYWHERE AND ON EVERYTHING!!!

Next thing I remember was waking up and seeing a huge fire. Oh my fuck they are going to burn me. But no, it was just the bon fire and I was wrapped in vomit soaked sleeping bags and shoved under the picnic table. Perfect. I passed out and woke to the sound of chirping birds and feeling pretty good considering. I snuck out and drove away from my shame.

I was humiliated and since I couldn't remember most things for the next few days, weeks and for some things years, people filled me in and teased me about it all. It was not uncommon to be walking along and hear someone moan out 'hhheeelllppp mmmeeee.' 

I was able to mend some wounds with most people, but I still have never felt good about that situation. I even had several friends 'intervene' and give me the talk about coming out.. Maybe consider the fact I might be gay. Who me? No. Never. I'm straight, I just haven't found the right girl yet. 

Yeah right. But then I did, and a good Mormon girl too.