Black and white books, grey fuzzy areas, and a red dress.

So somewhere in between the busy-busy that is both my paid work and my community work and the rest of my life at the moment, I received a parcel in the post.
Oh and how wonderful! A book.
Self-Organising Men; concious masculinities in time and space. 2006, J Sennett (ed). Homofactus Press.

Now you'd be right in thinking that I've got enough books in my life. But this is particularly cool. A free book.
No. Not like 'library-free'. I get to keep this one. But I should I tell you all about it.
So here is part one of my brain dump while reading through it the first time.
In reading order. Not table of contents order.

LesbianHighFemmeFaggot
by Gaylourdes

Of course I was going to read this piece first. Fancy getting a book from around the world and finding a piece of writing from over the hill (literally, folks).
The words washing and dancing over and around me. The familiar cleverness of hir personality. There's something to be said for reading a book and being able to hear the authors voice. Not in that 'famous newsreader' sense. But in the way that I expect to hear hir break into one of hir explanatory offshoots or wonderfully terrible puns.
A niggle-hint in the back of my head while reading; how will others, around the world, interpret hir words differently? Without knowing her context as much. Without know some of the names mentioned* or having seen some of the fabulous (yes fabulous!) costumes.

I can't be male
by Nick Kiddle

Nick's piece reads with a voice somewhat quieter. A certain politeness in the tale being told. But not apologetic. Not the story structure of the usual 'here is something, here is crisis, here is working through, here is shiny rainbow and happy bunny ending'. The end of this piece delivers some tied up threads - but many more teased out.
Messy - not ugly or the sort of mess that makes you want to look away (turn-a-page), but instead that which conveys the realness of life. There are no neat boxes for the reader to put things in. This isn't a kindergarten shape-recognition game. This is a beautiful clear story of a part of someones continuing life. And for that it has power over many a typical transition tale.

Cartoons - various
by Jay Sennett
While I delight in the changing pace and sizes of the words and tales in this book.
I also laugh out loud with the recognition of Jay's wonderful cartoons. Each one making me recall my original thoughts on them. And indeed some memory-snippets of the original accompanying post.

Body in Progress
by Eli J VandenBerg
But oh what a delight (if one can use such a word here) to see Eli's woodcuts.
I have a soft spot for printmaking - as someone who was accepted into Uni for her printmaking. But my life took different tumble turns as science won over art, and words won over science. But moving along now.
I will write something coherent later here.
The artworks so powerful it takes me 3 passes over before I notice the accompanying text. No doubt there will be more written later on this.

And Yet
by Eli Clare
This piece demanding re-reading beyond most.
But what a delight to let the words wash over. The delight of reading good writing.
The poignancy of the subject.

And this is as far as I've read. And I want to finish flicking and start re-reading properly. I want to start having more informed views on what I'm reading.

A part of me finds myself unpacking (*shudders* damn insidious corporate-speak infiltrating my life) more of what's inside me; the more I read the FTM 'genre'.

An unexamined life is not worth living sure. But I am also finding myself in a space where I see aspects of my world being analysed. I watch from the inside. Peoples' theories on the lives of my friends.
Thinking: analyse, sure, but don't forget to live eh.

This academic take on what I see in my daily life isn't something I found often in my time in heteroville. Apart from a smattering of feminist arguments and attitude from my mothers, and a drop of sociology at Uni.
And then later, no matter how hard I searched, I couldn't find a level of writing that echoed life, regarding the bisexual experience. It was/is all too amorphous and broad.

And so I will end this ramble with the frivolous femme-y news that I have bought a new dress for more than I realistically should've paid. And it is made entirely of red bandanna material.
No dilemmas about flagging left or right for me folks.
I'm flagging with my whole jiggly body!
Bring on summer!


*You think Glita Supernova is a fantastic name? - but oh that's nothing compared to her shows, her laugh, her makeup, her outfits, her tattoos, her skin...her skin...oh *slides under table*.