starfrosting: (firmament)
Can anyone fully inhabit a gender without a degree of horror? How could someone 'be a woman' through and through, make a final home in that classification without suffering claustrophobia? To lead a life soaked in the passionate consciousness of one's gender at every single moment, to will to be a sex with a vengeance-- these are impossibilities, and far from the aims of feminism....[T]here are always different densities of sexed being in operation...
(--Denise Riley, 'Am I That Name?')


Aug. 25th, 2008 01:09 am
starfrosting: (Default)
"In any case, they will find it hard to distinguish their shame from its politics, their personal failings from the power of alien norms."
(michael warner, the trouble with normal)
starfrosting: (Default)
The passage between states, this almost-ness, my hatchling bones and span and angles, that's what I want to unfurl down all these different lines of becoming (I say, as the left side of my face sprouts soft dark patches of hair reminiscent of my little brother at 17), what I would select to carry through if I could. At services Friday with Naomi I watched the bar mitzvahs on the bimah and was struck by how the rite of passage snatches them up right at the most awkward moment of transformation, all tufts and not-quite, thin chested and balanced on the brink.

When I think of what I want to actualize through this process of transition, what I do not want to lose, this is what it is:
the uniqueness of my flesh as it runs through binary code, and an authentic and peaceful relationship to this.
the almostness, the not-quite, the surfaces of good calm disjunction. the feygeleh-butch-boy impossibility that can carry me through.

And yes, again, I am longing for flat-chested smoothness I'm doing nothing in the near future to pursue, which feels okay. And yep, as usual, contemplating come solstice if I'll still take T. This contemplation feels okay too and though it sounds strange to say I'm grateful for this patience.
starfrosting: (Default)
See I was thinking of her in terms of me
That's like thinking of birds in terms of bees
Or is more like thinking of pianos in terms of keys?
Whatever it is, it ain’t right.

What a good song. Love love love. Sunlight spilling in from the lead glass windows in the library. I'm so hungry need to plan the day. Got all anxious last night about not being able to constitute myself in relation to truth + gender (what are you really, your own soft voice in yr head, gender it!) but fuck that, I'm so sick of it. Find where it is and go the other way? I wish. Forget predication, forget truth claims, forget *who* or *what* and stretch, find the comfortable spaces, trust yr self to be yourself regardless of all this drek and fear of instrumentation. That's what I'm trying to do these days.

So hungry! Dragging my feet on this paper I started so early 10 days ago and then stopped working on. Tonight's gonna be the night. It can't be too much the night though cos I have class at 9 the next morning.


starfrosting: (Default)

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