HelloFukumoto

I think stretch marks are sort of beautiful

Because when I look at them, they could almost be little streams and rivers

snaking down the sides of a mountain

breaking off into different directions

Some bigger, some smaller

Clear, and cold, and bright

Rivulets running down

the incline of my breast.

Or they could be the swirling designs of the bark beetle

finding it’s way through the skin of the tree

Leaving an intricate array of tunnels and paths

Tracks of red dust fingers

Exploring trails of delicious mouth marks

To decorate the tree trunks of

my thighs.

And just beyond the branches

Caught between two trees,

you can see a web shining metallic white in the sunlight

glinting with little stars of morning dew,

The constellation of birthmarks laid across the iridescent webbing on my skin

Little stars that lace my neck, and trickle down

between the valley, over soft soil and rock

The softness

Following the pathways,

Following the iridescent pink and white scales of a fish swimming down a stream

petaled with cherry blossoms.

negativebuoyancy asked: Hey there, I have a new post up: 'Obviously, manly affection is always gay'. I should be posting something new every Monday from now on. NB.

Everybody, check it

Last night I dreamt that as I sat in an open-roof car (it may have been a roller coaster), I was having an in depth discussion with someone who was teaching me things. It was someone I greatly admired. As we slowly moved along the track, we discussed the things we saw, and my teacher guided me through each idea, pointing things out as we passed them.

I wish I could remember who this was, and what we discussed, because I suddenly woke up at 3am and thought to myself, “Isn’t it amazing that I’m learning new things while I sleep”.

Hm.

“Polite Smiles Can’t Hide Totem’s Problems”

I’m not a big fan of the title (which was an addendum by the editor), but the sentiment rings true.  Here she is, in case you haven’t read it yet.  

We’ll see where this leads, I suppose.   

negativebuoyancy asked: Hey there, I wrote a poem on my blog called "it must suck to be a chick". Looking at the content on your blog, I think you will appreciate the message contained within.

Much appreciated indeed

So a lot of people have been reading my poem, Be Ugly, in the past week, and for the most part, people have been deeply affected by it (which is so cool and beyond flattering! I’m so grateful that my words are able to reach so many people!) On the flip side, there have been a few people who are downright offended by it, or don’t understand.

I agree. This is a deeply offensive poem, that kills words as we understand them.  I think in order to understand what I mean, you should know Mark Aguhar, calloutqueen.tumblr.com, who recently took her own life.  

Why is it a facet of human nature to draw ourselves to beautiful things?  I think many people are magpies.  Why does physical, aesthetic beauty (as we understand it collectively, as a whole culture) directly affect how we interact, make connections, and how successful we are professionally?  

Some people have asked me, “Why would you call those things (stretch marks, wrinkles) ugly?”  What gives me the right to call the human body, in its natural form, ugly?  

But the question I am asking is this: What is wrong with being “ugly”?  How do we collectively understand what is and is not aesthetically pleasing?  Coming from a religious background, I have been raised with the notion that my body is a tool that requires perfecting, an endless and lifelong endeavour.  Something always requires change, or improvement, is “not good enough”.  Not being good enough has haunted me my entire life.  

“Ugly” and “Beautiful” are subjective, that much we can agree upon.  But no matter how much you accept yourself, no matter how much you tell yourself your “flaws” are beautiful and natural, the “real world” is always just around the corner. There is a lot of criticism in the “all bodies are beautiful” movement, calling it naive and deluded.   Being beautiful (in the most mainstream cultural understanding of the word) has direct professional, monetary results, and ignoring that does not solve the problem.  

The truth of the power of “beauty” is laced into the fabric of our children’s culture: Cinderella’s saving grace is her beauty.  Snow White is also saved because of her beauty.  

Yes, people are all beautiful in their own ways.  But what if you’re ugly, and you can’t see that beauty?  We put so much emphasis in our consumerist culture upon aesthetically pleasing things - our houses, our cars, our gardens, our clothes, hair, shoes, lives - there is no room for ugly things, which are pushed into corners and rendered invisible.  Ugly things need to fight to be seen.  

I believe artists are our critical culture makers - we have the visibility and power to change not only what we consider “beautiful” versus “ugly”, but we have the power to embrace people, embrace the word ugly for a political purpose, and make people say, “So what?”  

Ugly will always exist, in some form or another, and there will always be power in the aesthetically pleasing.   What happens when we take power away from visual aesthetics, and stop striving for this physical perfection?

I don’t know what gives me the right to think these ideas, and maybe I’m naive.  You’re free to agree or disagree. 

But honestly, sometimes I just try to simply exist, and it’s damn near impossible.

Time is precious
And mine is worth its weight in gold—
although I didn’t start off thinking this way.

I guess it had something to do with the inflation rate, or the stocks,
and some intelligent investments somewhere along the way that caused the worth of my Time Stocks to skyrocket.
I don’t really know what causes the fluctuation and inflation of inherent worth of a tangible thing—
Time,
Gold,
Because my jewellery looks the same from day to day 
and minutes and hours don’t really change their shape.
People just keep changing their minds about inherent value.

 I once read that people used to eat and drink flakes of gold as a sign of wealth, and to promote good health,
because how can something so inherently beautiful cause anything but good?

I’ve learned that people can be magpies,
Helpless in their desires.

I’ve learned that beauty can be misleading.

I’ve also learned that there are no health benefits to eating gold, as metallic gold is inert to all body chemistry, has no taste, provides no nutrition, and leaves the body unaltered.

                   The most beautiful gold-leaf shit you will ever take.

                                              A toilet bowl of Klimt.

So this is what happened to my Time:
I started noting its Rarity Value Index relative to Time Spent—
Started realizing that time is a non-renewable resource
that is being squandered without a care,
like crude oil in a Toronto traffic jam.

                       Honking boredom,  emissions lazing the air;
                                               Eyes glazing, blank gazes over the 401;
                                                              Land-locked sighs, hands in hair;
Without a thought.
Without a care. 

My most valuable lessons after two decades of observations are this:

Your next birthday will arrive faster than the last.

Realization is sudden, but growth is steady.

Spring takes forever to bloom, but the flower always opens over night.

Remember the rarity and preciousness of time.

The value of gold may rise and fall by day and year,
but nothing replaces the rise and fall of hand on chest,
the steadiness of human breath;
Your memory interlaced with mine,
and the rarity of a moment in time
glinting in the glow 
of a TV.  
 

darkromanticism:

blowsaing:

One more dress until preview! Two more nights until open! Bagpipers and kilts and broadswords galore - this is gonna be epic.

Bitches, go see this if you’re in or around Vancouver.  blowsaing and I are doing makeup and dress, respectfully.  The show looks cool as hell.  $7 preview on Wednesday, March 21st!

Because let’s be honest, one day they’ll be ugly

And don’t you want to be able to sit around laughing about your sagging tits with someone you actually like?

One day I’ll be fatter and softer and uglier than I am today

I’ll have cellulite, and scars, and I’ll hurt and look more tired.

I should probably take a lot of really great pictures while I can.

nolansage:

William Wilkinson

Sharpie on Paper

hahahahahhahhaha this is fantastic