The Artist

After three years of extensive travel, working in hospice as a death doula, and living in another heteronormative duet, I came back to Toronto certain of a few things.

1 - Traditional relationships infuse my kind with a sorrow that presents as melancholy but manifests quickly as a painful physical breakdown. It pinches nerves, raises anxiety, chokes the throat, seizes the back, and debilitates the limbs. It suffocates whimsy. It bleaches the colors of the universe. It fills the child Self with shame. Domesticity only makes sense to me living among a coven of sister friends, and I must never ever EVER seek a "respectable" lifestyle.

2 - Art heals everything, and like magical herbs, it repels those who wish conformity upon people. It is an impressive detoxifier, and I highly recommend that art be used in all exorcisms.

3 - We - I - must remember that no matter how bleak the world may seem, there is much more love and goodness than anything else. When hope is hanging on by a thread, one must find a way to nourish it, be patient with it, and allow it to grow. Like a flower popping through a dirty concrete sidewalk, the tiniest wins must be celebrated as an act of defiance. As a ritual in manifestation. As an offering to Love itself.

4 - Wrong and Strong is often the way to opening a new channel, so here is the beginning of a series I call Before I go, a collection of works, and minor scoldings I need to hear.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/8c4f0b_9c71e695954748d295e48dd882a7feeb/480p/mp4/file.mp4

Photos by Michael Cooper