the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded 9-12.12.17


Preparing to spill my own blood. Bloodlet. Let it flow, doing nothing. Nothing to stop, to hide, to shade this experience. Preparing a ritual to release shame. Shame since I was twelve. Fear of being known, fear of attention to and awareness of my genitals. I have been taught to lie, in this case, to hide that I am bleeding. To make invisible the natural and constant experience of being woman. I was taught shame. To close up to keep tight to pretend to hide to fear that one drop of blood will leak. A leak is a mistake. Unintended. I choose the river bed not the dam.

12.12.17 (for 10.12.17)

Day two of the spilling. Feeling that I embody everything which society tells me is disgusting and ugly. Again feeling the pain. I forgot I would have to move through the pain. Try to connect to the root.

12.12.17 (for 11.12.17)

Introduction of unexpected fear and pain.

Since my awareness of men, I have subsequently been scared for what could be done to my body. Berlin was the exception. I have felt safe here, no fear of the night, of dark streets of parks. Tonight a shift. A continental drift. Tectonic plates collide violently and a raw mountain pushes up into our world. Tonight is the first time I was scared to leave this universe. Afraid to step through/out that door. I thought I would have hate directed at me when people saw my blood. No hate, rather I was more invisible than ever before in bh. Two people, two woman, commented on the whiteness of the clothing. The contrast to our surroundings. One woman made the connection, “it would be so beautiful if you free bled in that white”. But I could not. I was too tight, too scared, I could not release. So they saw a light bleed. A dammed bleed. And a dam for fear, my fear, our fear, built up inside of me as I processed, swallowed, attempted to digest a friend’s own spilling. A death threat. Upon leaving our universe, a death threat. It was not at me, it was not my body, it is not my pain. I know though if we do not all, our family, this circle that calls Berlin home because it is the only place we can exist, if we do not all see this body as our body, this threat as a threat on us, we will lose our home and each other. We fight or we go into hiding.


Season’s first snowfall

Settles upon a death threat

On our home’s front porch

recorded 12-15.12.17

recorded 7.1217