Are We Vignette? (Almost)

 FRIENDS, COUNTRYMEN, & Some Sucky Trolls:

Lend me your Sears catalog spans of attention.

What can I say about this year? There was a lot of down time, then a lot of cabin fever, then a lot of time on the porch & in the yard. In our natural Florida habitat w/ all the clover & bumble bees & raccoons!

There could’ve been lots of arts & crafts & belles lettres going on. And there was some of that, but not nearly as much as I had planned. We did a couple episodes of the Buzbee & Whitman show but found our enthusiasm for the broadcasting arts had waned. But more on my failed arts projects later…

…what I’ve really enjoyed this year is YOUR arts projects & social studies adventures & technical advances. You’ve all come a long way. And I loved seeing how you filled your extended time slots so creatively.

Quiet Time

One realization I made this year was I am the master of my crafts. All of them. Up until now I have considered myself a foolish little dilettante playing at being an artist, or writer, or musician, or surgeon. But now I see that I am good at these things (not gifted, but finally arriving at my own latent pace). And you all are even better at your things than I am at mine.   

That’s okay. It’s not a competition. I always have been competitive though. I was an athlete before I was an artist. I grew up in a frat house full of brothers and was forced to compete at everything, even when I didn’t feel like it (most of the time.)

But I gave up being competitive this year. I’m just ready to plant flowers & vegetate. To read all the books on my to-read pile. To worry about growing old w/ depression & mental illness. To continue on the spiritual journey I started in 2017. 

Publicity Photo 2020

FIGHT CLUB

Speaking of the spirit journey, which I don’t speak of much because of y’alls’ maturity level on the subject— (Yeah, I got all your backward Zeppelin warm-fuxxies. And such. They made me cry & laugh at the same time. That’s what comedy is to me now — first the tears then the laughter. Must walk the path of darkness right into the whoopie cushion of light. [fun fact —didst thou know Led Zeppelin almost named theirself/theyselves “Whoopie Cushion”? Somehow I think their majesty would’ve been lost no matter how great the song writing, had they gone with that name]) —

Anyway, the spirit journey—which started with some shaky automatic writing in late ’17 and progressed to a vivid & violent encounter w/ the spirit world in March & April of 2019— is something I still don’t want to pour out here in this blog because it is an ongoing exegesis. 

One thing I did not want this spirit journey to be was me writing predictions for the future. That was not my intent with the auto-writing this time around. I’m nowhere near the psychic writer that D Foster Wallace was, but if you’re a quiet & astute reader you’ll find the virus, the search for a vaccine, the race riots of the summer, plus something about all game show hosts being sadists —(I’m looking at you ellen, and even you late alex!)— all made it into the mix.  

No, the thing I wished to address with my written meditations, the thing I wrapped up in white light as I scribbled away in the night, the thing I prayed rabidly for has been wiped out, at least temporarily, by this virus. And that’s a morbid twist I didn’t expect, but it has worked much faster than the legal system ever would!

Quantum Quintuplet Cartoon Doodle

ART

I told you how much I’ve enjoyed your creative efforts during our mutual quarantine, but let me say a little bit about these new scribbles you see before you — 

    first of all I know what you’re thinking “Vin, you are most definitely not the master of your craft”

But what if I told you I drew all these (most of them) w/ my eyes closed. I’m pretty much blind as a bat these days no matter how much light there is. I’m not even sure if DOTS are possible for me anymore. So there you have it…my new technique invented out of necessity. 

Art is something I wish I was better at, or went to school for, or could’ve handled going to school for; I did go to school for a few weeks, and then I flipped out (mostly about the cost of art school, but also my inferiority complex kicked into high gear around so much talent — see paragraph above about competitivity).

But I’m also glad that my artwork retains a child-like spirit, an unschooled sloppiness that no amount of framing & matting could disguise. I think it’s fitting for my quintuplet comediennes too!

4/5 Quints Ice Skate in Berlin

TRANSITION

I know I declared my transition COMPLETE on 4-25-19. I was feeling mighty masculine & toxically aggressive*, potent*, volatile* around that time. And I was looking pretty strong & fuzzy too. But I’m happy to say my transition was not complete.

I’ve changed & transformed some more since then. This really is an exercise in patience. I keep wanting to say, Yes I can see a dude in the mirror at all times. But there are stretches of time where I go back to looking quite feminine too.  And having to cover my fabulous soul patch w/ a mask has resulted in much misgendering during the pandemic. 

But someday I will be able to do one of those slideshows that starts with my first day on T and ends with Whitmanesque Whitman gazing through grey whiskers at an amazed audience.

[*These are not adjectives I want to embody as a male, and I don’t believe that these traits reflect masculinity on the whole; however I struggle with these bursts of self-dominion now, just as I went through bouts of sadness and low energy as an estrogen being. Hormones >: / Am I right?]

So….now let’s talk about my other transition. The one that took me from Baby Boomer to Gen Xer to Millennial Snowflake — all in the course of 50 years.

Pub Photo w/ initials

INCLUSIVITY

I began my life as a Baby Boomer only because I was born to Baby Boomers. I was expected to mirror their traits & values — hard work, self control, emotions way way on that back burner meant for melting butter…comparing yourself to everyone else & making sure you were just like them…but better. Not in any overt competitive way…but a sly comparison, a tallying of goods and accomplishments.

Only after moving away from home was I able to fully experience the traits & values of my poor little generation - Gen X. Oh what high ideals this generation possessed! Unfortunately we were pretty damaged by our lack of greatness to fulfill the promise of our ideals. But we also possessed enough of the hard work ethic of our parents to push through our slumps and create the world we wanted. We made progress, especially social progress, but also technological progress. And that’s what we were good for.

And only lately do I feel that I have been absorbed into the massive mosh pit of emotions that is The Millennial Generation. You who are the product of my gen’s loins do possess that high idealism, the urge for social progress and the verbal communication skills & digital intuition we passed down to you.

But you are Gen X on speed.  Our identity crisis became your mess to clean up. And while Gen Xers made progress in incorporating natural human emotions into the capitalist machinery that made up the bulk of our lives, Millennials required the capitalist machine to bend to their emotional will.

Wolf Howls to Warm Up in Iceland

Millenials are sensitive (as snowflakes apparently). This is just fine with me, as a bleeding heart libertarded artist dude, I like what the millennial & zillennial generations have allowed us to consider that we were never allowed to consider before. Mainly, that each one of us is a special stardust masterpiece—a unicorn that can’t be lumped into some Venn diagram of what a man or woman or Latino or black or Asian or disabled, etc…human is.

This, I learned, is called inclusivity and I was eager to participate in the new social order. As a Baby Boomer-Gen X prototype, designed to compete and compare at all costs, this seemed like a damn fine idea.  Even though it required some self-censorship, some uncomfortable realizations, some tears, some guilt…I felt like things were not going to go back to the old Boomer way anytime soon, so I might as well embrace something that I’d silently believed in all along.

When I was doing the ‘zine, I often made a point to specifically express that submissions were open to women, queer folks, people of color, etc… This did not mean I didn’t want subs from white guys, it just meant that I was already getting a lot of subs from white guys. I occasionally solicited work from poets I had friended online, and even then the men were more likely to submit stuff than the women. [Maybe because I have a masculine name now & they thought I was being predatory? Or why, I don’t know]

Anyway, I feel like this in itself offended some people, and I am still wondering why? I’m not a social justice warrior out to crucify those who aren’t on board with the identity politics of the day. But I’m also one who believes being a decent human doesn’t fatally wound anyone’s freedom of speech. So… I’m still in the dark as to why things are still so divided in these two camps.

If anyone wants to chime in, please do so.

Asleep in Austin

 I dragged the line into a space so new & vacant

                   My frenemies will never find it

             Maybe I do speak in the voice

                                                     of a Trumpet,

when the solo needs interrupting

                                          But remember

                               how Bush corrupted our vocab in the oughties

        & how like Obama (aka boring) we sounded

till 2016…

[piece of a poem I wrote in Oct ’19]

IN CONCLUSION

Thank you for reading this far, if you have. This is my progress report for 2020. And most of my progress is into blindness & old age. But I’m happy with what I’ve accumulated from these years on planet — I have a lot to take back to the mothership.

This is a terrible photo & I wanted to delete it but new Blogger doesn't have a delete photo option anymore. Sucky. Music lessons in Austin.

So…what about Shelter Cat & Trust Fund Baby? and The Octopus Review? and Singlewood? And regular old poetry submissions? and DOTS??? And Adventures in Reality? and all that stuff I used to just GIVE YOU FOR FREE?

There may be more…if I feel like it…remember…I’m only an 11% blogger & social media presence now.

Now Is Not The Time For Psychobabble

Oh, but it is!  And here’s why:

1) Everybody’s doing it. Get on board or be left behind.

2) For me, it’s just pre-sense. It may not mean anything right now, but it will next year, or next century. You just wait!

3) Instead of calling it psychobabble, let’s just call it poetry & see where it takes us…

FRIENSKIS,

How are you? I am doing better & better. I had a couple of rough months. Somehow I managed to be jolly & positive through Dec/Jan, but Feb/Mar were a little aftershocky.

Don’t worry. That is going to happen here. It’s okay to have feelings. Even BIG ones. Even irrational ones. Irrational feelings are often intuitive timebombs going off prematurely, kind of like psychobabble may just be memories from the future.

I’ve been googling Sen. Duckworth (D-IL) regularly, and I fact check everything that comes out of the great American blowhole. And as soon as I can walk again, I start my “chosen activity” on the frontlines…

…oh did I tell you I broke my foot about 3 weeks ago? I’m so bummed because I had my mile down to 8 minutes, and had wanted to do a 5K in Apr/May. I’m trying to enjoy this convalescence, but …I feel like now’s not the time to be side-lined.

But maybe it is. And here’s why:

1) I did all the hard work already

2) Now is the time to gather strength

3) I’m still in a “period of transition”

*************** A PERIOD OF TRANSITION**********

So, VT, how is your transition going? I hear everyone ask me all the time.

Not. 

No one asks. No one wants to know about it. But I’m going to tell you about it anyway, because that’s how generous I am w/ my experiences on this planet.

Toy Village 2003

The truth is—I haven’t changed much. If you had told me on 12/7/15, the day of my first shot, that I would still look pretty much the same 16 months later…

I would’ve been really disappointed. Once I made the decision to start T, and waited 5 months to get in to see the Endo, and imagined myself as a guy for the first time since I was 19 & almost died because i was really a girl in the world’s eyes…

I was so looking forward to this wonderful transformative journey (which I expected would take about a year). I was anticipating (& fearing) being unrecognizable in the mirror. I was anticipating (& fearing) the loss of my mezzo-soprano singing range. But the excitement was definitely greater than the fear.

Being an older trans guy (46 at time of 1st shot), I’m on a lower dose of T than the average 18 year-old would be. I was in that hormone range where i wasn’t making much estrogen anymore so I was okay w/ the lower dose. Plus I had to think of Moonchild’s comfort level too…

Even though he understood gender dysphoria from living w/ me for years, he was not looking forward to having a husband instead of a wife. I was okay with transitioning slowly if it would help him acclimatize.

Of course, I told you all that from the moment I made my appointment up until the start of this year the “Ma’am bombs” began—

the world called me ma’am so many times, just so I’d never forget : ))

Baby Eloise—she's sitting in the windowsill chattering at birds now 14 yrs old

But I do want to forget. And the world doesn’t call me ma’am so much anymore, but I don’t exactly pass as male either. I think since I had top surgery I’m read first as “teenage boy” but people figure out pretty quickly that I’m older & that means I must be female…

My moustache is trying so hard to be more than a soup shadow. But it just hasn’t progressed much. Even on my lower dose, the doctor thought I should have more facial hair by now.

My voice also hasn’t really changed all the way. Sometimes it is deeper, sometimes it’s just scratchy, and sometimes I feel like I sound just like my old lady-self…

I don’t think people even remember that I’m trans & some of my friends who were so good at trying to use my name and pronouns have just gone back to she-ing and I feel like I might have to come out all over again…

I had been waiting on the changes that would make it easier for my friends to switch pronouns. I know it feels delusional to call someone ‘he’ when they still look like ‘she.’

So...in Feb/Mar I was lamenting my slower paced changes (I’m used to being around younger guys who have goatees & Jim Morrison vocal ranges in like 6 months) and feeling left out, and wondering what should I do about this??

But now I’m feeling a lot better about my failure-to-trans. I feel so much better on T than I did my whole life as an estrogen monster. That alone makes the leg-stabbing worth it. Plus the changes that may not be so noticeable to a casual observer—muscle mass, “downstairs growth”—are enough to ease dysphoria to functional levels.

I have some of the changes I wanted, and none of the ones Moonchild didn’t want—so it’s a win-win! I just have to keep it in perspective, and stay on my own path. Any time I dare to compare myself to the younger guys I come away feeling quite hopeless.

I don't know what this is—2015

And yes, it’s true that I pee in a cup in the car. It’s actually a coffee thermos. I am not a fired-up trans activist, and I don’t want any bathroom drama.** So I practice avoidance. I know some people would say this makes me “not a trans ally.” 

But to me it just means I’m used to being self-protective over confrontational. I recognize that the world has trans compassion fatigue and I’m trying not to push any buttons.

Just reading the room as they say…

*******************READING ROOM: AS THEY SAY************

I read a book a few months ago that I want to delve into in one of my serious Octopus Diary entries. It was the biography of Sci Fi author James Tiptree (who was really a woman named Alice Sheldon). I had never heard of Tiptree before reading the book, but a friend thought I needed to read about him and sent the book to my mailbox.

This was way more than a story about a sci-fi author with a pseudonym. It was very misogynist-feminist/trans-masculine. Not to mention Alice Sheldon, the person, lived a jaw-droppingly privileged & introspective life***, in which she managed to do great things before ending it all in a murder-suicide. 

Unfortunately I finished the book right around the time of the election and it got shoved aside in the sideshowery that ensued. But I’ll write more about Tiptree when I have some art to go with it! Yes! I want to do some Tiptree-inspired watercolors to go with the article. 

Today, you’ll have to recycle this used art with your purple irises.

************   ** & *** ********************

**although I almost had car drama when we were up in Ybor City—I was peeing in my coffee cup & some guy banged on the window. He was the paid parking attendant and I don’t think he saw what I was doing but it was a close call.

***speaking of introspective lives, in response to my FB post about “utopian societies of the future” someone asked, VT, what do you think a utopian society IS? 

And I said, A society that’s more introverted. 

More on that serious topic

Later

In the Octopus Diary

I don't know what this is either but I made it during my nervous breakdown 2014

Pathological Pravda

FRIENDS, RUSSIANS:

Happy Goddamn Fucking New Year.

Unlike most of you who eschew new year's resolutions because you won't keep them anyway, I always make resolutions & stick to them.

For instance my resolutions last year were A) to forget more things B) to submit quality writing and get it published.

And I did that! All year long. I got more stuff published in 2016 than the previous 2 years combined. And boy--did I forget a lot of stuff. I can't even remember all the stuff I forgot last year!

[For my new friends (and Russians) who are wondering why I would want to forget stuff--I have one of those perfect biographical memories like MaryLu Henner and I really needed to clean out my brain, make room for all the highly classified data that's incoming

But I can still remember everything if you ask me by date---ie, what happened on Oct 9, 1985? (It was a Wednesday & we were working on the play 'Antigone' in my high school theatre class). But as far as remembering the painful details from each calendar square of my life? I'm purging some of the hurts & judgments & emotional propaganda I've been feeding myself since…1985.]

So what's on the docket for VT in 2017?

A) Retrieving my sense of humor from wherever I left it in 2014. I'm sure I won't find my sense of humor in the condition it was when I abandoned it, but I KNOW I will need a funhouse lens through which to view the nouvelle regime. I am scared shitless and know that is when levity is most essential. But I don't know how "leviticous" I can be about it. Plus I'm so unfunny now, I worry that I may be getting Alzheimer's. 

[Alzheimer's is my new thing to be unreasonably paranoid about. It's always something--sinkholes, blood clots… This year I will find every reason to believe I have early onset dementia. Is this really happening? Maybe not.]

2010 character: The Majestic Text-mouth Sparrow

B) This doesn't need repeating but --Writing, submitting, seeing more work in print. I actually feel really weird whenever I have a poem published. At first it's thrilling--yay, someone appreciates my words! But then it's a scary out-of-comfort-zone heebie jeebie vulnerability. I'm not cut out to be a person, let alone a person with a name. And cred. But I've worked my whole life to occupy this out-of-comfort zone, so I won't give up just because America isn't great yet, or I'm losing my mind.

C) Do more art. I don't need to say it but sorry I did no art in '16. That will not happen again.

D) Weaning off as much single-use plastic as possible. We were doing pretty good with this for awhile, then our cats destroyed our cloth grocery bags one by one & suddenly we had a cabinet full of plastics again. If we are saying good-bye to environmental protections for awhile, I want to contribute as little as possible to the shitpile.

[Of course transitioning means--syringes! Plastic ones! Unreusable disposable waste that usually gets incinerated. But I refuse to throw them out. I've been using them for watercolors and other constructions. So expect some needle-art this year : )]

E) Owning my transition. I'll never be super masculine, but I want to feel comfortable thinking of myself as male. I was such a boy when I was a little kid, and even up through high school I dressed femininely but was gruff & tomboyish as ever. And then something happened after high school…life without a net…and I felt this horrid obligation to play the role of female, and pretend to enjoy & be fine with it. And now that I've been released from that obligation it is still hard not to feel guilty when I think of myself as "he"--I let everyone misgender me because I don't want to be one of those militant "delusional" trans people who disavows all gender constructs.

I just want to pass as a guy and live a quiet life w/ my mate. I don't want to demand anything from anyone, but I need to demand of myself that I FORGET the forced femininity. And the guilt and the hatred and the overflowing misogyny I drowned in for decades. Once I do that, I know passing will come naturally.

Other than that, I have no "trans chores" this year! 

What else? Right now I'm training to do a run. I'll probably start with a 1K or even 5K if I'm feeling strong enough. Back in the days when I was crying so loud & uncontrollable that i thought it would scare the neighbors, I started running around my house, trying to calm myself down. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes I was running for hours. Hours, friends & Russians.

It felt awful at the time, but now I'm a pretty good runner for an old curmudgeon. I ran a 9 minute mile this morning and next week I hope to do it in 6, 'mmmmkay?

All right….that's all I have to say now. I hope everybody's year goes well…I mean, really well. If we all need to join forces we will. Until then, I'll be doing all that stuff up there ^^^

Extra Celestial Shoe Sale

AHOY FRIENDS!!

How is your world?

The one I can't see unless you tell me all about it?

The one I could guess if your eyes contacted mine

But I have unlisted lenses

Private corneas

My pupils are not in your network

*******

Sorry I haven't been forthcoming with any ART or even the avalanche of WORDS you look forward to here in the Octopus Diary.

I'm getting used to my new brain/body chemistry. While I don't necessarily subscribe to the idea of the "male brain" and the "female brain", I definitely feel different with my new chemicals.

I haven't found a way to convince my brain that painting is just as fun as pornography. Don't worry--I will remember how to paint and write poetry again. I'm not too concerned about being suspended in a pubescent time warp for the last 3 months. It's been rather enlightening : ))

I am thrilled & amazed by the transition so far. I can't believe how great it is to not have the hormonal roller coaster of femininity controlling my every moment.

I can't believe my legs are like pork instead of porridge. 

I can't believe how well I sleep now. Sleep!!!! It is a gift I never dreamt I would receive!

I can't believe I have the energy to handle all the piddly little crap life always throws at you on top of all the big important stuff it throws at you too. 

Let's see…other changes include: 

Shady little coffee moustache making an appearance in the right light

More nose hair!! (must be vigilant for crusty goblins)

Losing all firmness of breast tissue. Atrophy. It feels so much better not to have big lumpy messes on my chest, but now they are pretty floppy & unperky & that creates a whole different level of dysphoria. But they are easier to deal with in their flaccid state.

I'm terribly self-conscious that everything I say is "mansplaining." I thought I would just adore being a Mansplainer, but I find myself censoring everything I say because I don't want to be THAT guy.

Like I said, I am loving the transformation. It sure fucking beats menopause, which is another terrific thing ladies have to look forward to after decades of involuntary hormonal torment. 

I realize that a lot of people still don't understand what it "feels like" to be Transgender. And a lot of people want me to explain it to them. And I try. I have tried. Hell, most of what I've posted in The Octopus Diary is about feeling dysphoric in a female body.

And despite the Trans Community's insistence that we don't say "HELP!!! I'm trapped in the wrong body!!!!" That is the only way I know how to describe it. To me, being female was the ultimate sickness, the ultimate amputation, the ultimate degradation of my fragile ego.

If I have to explain any further, I'm afraid you'll never understand.

**********

As far as the whole Bathroom Issue goes…I don't have much more to say about that either. It's being talked about in big media forums & it used to be something I only heard about in my support groups. 

All I can say is--some of the scariest bathroom incidents in my life took place in the girls' restrooms in middle & high school. Girl on girl violence. Eating disorders. Aqua Net fumes. Queen bees monopolizing the mirrors. Menstrual meltdowns. 

And like I said before, the Bathroom Issue may seem like a First World non-problem especially since some countries don't even have running water (a reason many girls stop going to school). And I still say any civil rights advancements that happen here will eventually benefit the rest of the world. Will it take time? Yes. But does it need to happen? Fuck yeah. 

****************

NOW…the reason I am posting this boring repetitive blog!!

Most of you know I used fashion to feel better about being "femme" & I have a lot of girl clothes that I'm not using anymore. So I'm having a SALE!!!

Be excited because I'll be selling stuff for less-than-Goodwill prices.

Dresses (mostly Small/Medium sizes 2--6)

T's and Shirts (Small/Med)

Pants, Jeans, Shorts (mostly 3--7)

Shoes (6--7)

Plus hats, accessories, bathing suits, socks. It all needs to go!

So if you/your daughter/your girlfriend are looking for interesting & cheap additions to your closet--

Come to my garage on Saturday May 21 (PM me for details on how to get to my garage)

All proceeds from the Sale will go to renovating our garage into a creative space for podcasts, plays, and crash space for touring bands!!

**********

As always, thank you for reading my shallow, incoherent thoughts. I will have art--Trust Fund Baby & Shelter Cat comix--soon. I'm just waiting for Trumpf to pick a running mate so I know what name to give Shelter Cat.