dear virtual diary,

it’s been a while, huh?

so, yeah, the Queering the Museum project went well.  i made a film short related to some parts of my life that was exhibited there and will be screened around the country this fall as part of a film project exploring queer women of color (yeah, i know what my skin looks like).  i’ve been asked to collaborate on the creation of a monthly event here in Seattle that may end up resulting in, finally, getting some remuneration.  my recent audition went well and i was cast in a performance art piece that will premier at the Seattle Fringe Fest in September of this year.

i’ve managed to reconcile my situation in life, to some degree even though not all of the states would agree with this.  that does, of course, make things more difficult.  some of them are having a very difficult time letting go and so i try to help more than normal, perhaps, in that way.  i recently found out i have another son, Devon, from a woman that i loved many, many years ago.  we’ve spoken on the phone yet it is, understandably, difficult for him.

life has taken so many twists and turns that even though i could never have expected this i did expect that Rachel would leave me.  she would often tell me that i would leave her but she knew that i never would.  i now believe that she left because she knew that i wouldn’t and that i couldn’t be free if i stayed.  i prefer this view even if it’s not accurate.

Neil Gaiman and Me

in 1992 i read “A Game of You” which was a story ark in the Sandman comic series (issue 32-37) which dealt with the nature of identity, self, freedom and what it takes to be free.  i still have that graphic novel and 21 years later i finally got a chance to meet Neil Gaiman.  i cried.  a lot.  i was last in the line at a reading of “Ocean at the End of the Lane” and i had waited for more than 3 hours to see him.  when i finally got to him, he smiled and said “wow, you’re very sparkly”.  in a halting voice i told him how much that story had impacted me and that it had, in fact, ended up saving my life and helping me more than once.  he smiled and asked me to come around the table at which point he hugged me.  i sobbed on his shoulder saying “thank you” over and over while he talked to him.  it was incredibly intimate, only he and i could hear what we said to each other.  he was happy that his story had helped me and he was happy that i’d made it through.. that i was there.  it seemed to last forever.  i’m still crying as i remember it.

he’s one of the nicest artists that i’ve met and that he took his time and said what he said will stay with me forever.

Neil Gaiman, if you ever find yourself slogging through the wasteland of the interwebs and stumble upon this blog, thank you.

Thank you.

Neil Gaiman and I at the Clarion West Writers Workshop, Seattle, WA

Neil Gaiman and I at the Clarion West Writers Workshop, Seattle, WA

The Vajrayogini – The Trauma Goddess

The Vajrayogini – The Trauma Goddess.

I am not suited to polite society
To social striving, upward mobility, and making good impressions
I am radically honest, sensitive, brilliant, and blunt
I hold up a mirror to the best and worst facets of human life.


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I know I am...


through the darkness there is light


It's like The Matrix — only without body harvesting and bullet time. Its ubiquity makes it almost invisible. Almost. We can see it, and we will explain what it looks like.

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by E.B. de Mas, reachable at:

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