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UnhealedI'm going to talk about something here that I rarely talk about. It's a disease I suffer from, and apparently it's pretty common, about 1 percent of the population, actually higher than Multiple Sclerosis, but you may have never heard of it. Why? Because people whom have it generally do not like to talk it. Partly because it's embarrasing, and partly because once you are done dealing with a flare up of it, you do not want this disease to take up any more of your time.
There are a variety of names for the disease: Verneuil’s disease, Acne inversa, but the technical term is Hidradenitis suppurativa. It's chronic, hereditary, and debilitating. And while there are steps to treat it, there is no cure. The disease works in the sweat glands around hair follicles. They clog up, and begin to abscess. The abscess is essentially a pimple, but much much larger, and instead of coming up through the skin, goes inside the skin. Hence the name Acne inversa. I first discovered the disease the day after a 12-hour continuous drive back from Chicago in 2008. I felt a little hard spot on my butt check. "Odd", I thought. And over the next eight to 10 days, I really can't remember the exact length of time, it grew into the most horrible thing I had ever experienced. I sat in the ER on that throbbing, painful abscess for five hours waiting to be admitted to find what in the hell was going on. I had never experienced anything like it. Upon being finally taken back, I found it burst when I moved my leg to hop on to the exam room table. They sat me there for an hour to let it drain, then gave me morphine, and proceeded to give me 12 antibiotic shots in the area. It was then packed with gauze and I was told I would have to change the packing every day. They assigned me a nurse to visit me and change it, but on weekends I was on my own. Luckily, a friend at my school knew a person at the free clinic and referred me there to have the dressing changed. I think back to this time with a smile, for two reasons: 1. That my wounds were being packed, which is painful, but it's also good care. And 2, the horror of my roomate's face when I asked him to help me change it. The only thing I took solace in was that this would never ever happen again. And then two months later, another one happened. And a month or so after that, another. And it kept like that for about a year, then went to one every three months and stayed like that for a while. But through this, I had no idea what the disease was. Doctors told me it may be MRSA, and so treated it as such, but it still came back. And every culture they took to check for infection came back negative for anything. So no bacteria, but still it acts like it's infected. Some doctors said I should take more regular baths, which was laughable if you know me, 'cause I'm pretty damn clean. But still no clue what it was. Then one day I went to a new doctor, and poof!, I had a diagnosis. I asked her how to treat it. She said there was no prevention of it, or cure, but that surgery could be arranged to remove the area that was effected. However, she told me I should wait until it's absolutely necessary, as these abscesses tend to come back, even after the skin is removed. So one would wonder why even bothering with the surgery? Well, as the area never fully heals, leaving a bit of raised skin, it can fall prey to Squamous-cell carcinoma, and that can kill you. Nice. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
We All Live in Each Other's ShadowsBy Zack Budryk QuailBellMagazine.com Thousands are sailing across the Western ocean, To a land of opportunity That some of them will never see; Fortune prevailing across the Western ocean, Their bellies full, their spirits free, They’ll break the chains of poverty And they’ll dance. -Shane McGowan, “Thousands Are Sailing” On the afternoon of August 15, 2010, a day before my grandmother’s 78th birthday, my mom, my aunt and I took her out to lunch. She’d moved into assisted living earlier in the year and was clearly hating every minute of it, so we tried to take her out whenever possible. Towards the end of lunch, we realized she was choking. We tried the Heimlich; didn’t work. I called an ambulance, but by the time it got there she’d gone into cardiac arrest. It took her to the Medical Center of Virginia and we waited. She died around noon the next day. Grandmother, as a person, was always at this strange crossroads of stereotypes and subversion of expectation. She was a devoutly Catholic native of County Meath who once lectured my father for making a joke about the Resurrection, but she was raised Protestant and had a period of vague agnosticism between the two. She had distinctly Catholic views on abortion, sex and marriage equality, but she was divorced and once resigned her job at the Richmond Times-Dispatch because her editor tried to restrict her to “women’s work” like the wedding section (I’m reminded of Joss Whedon’s quip when asked about his enthusiasm for empowered female characters—“If you met my mother, you’d understand.”) She admired the IRA and Margaret Thatcher in equal measure. Most, or at least a substantial portion, of Irish-Americans have to go back as far as the Famine to trace their roots to Ireland, so I always felt lucky, no pun intended, to be able to grow up around someone who provided that kind of context for my identity. I didn’t speak directly to her very much about our mutual Irishness (I wish I had) but I always saw her generosity and stoicism with a distinct, profound sadness showing through to be a perfect illustration of the Irish character. One of the most defining moments I can remember was a story from her funeral. The late Bishop Walter Sullivan gave a homily where he described writing a column in the Catholic Virginian that used the phrase “Jesus justices.” My grandmother, he said, wrote in shortly thereafter to inform him in no uncertain terms that “justice” is not a verb. Bishop Sullivan countered by pointing to a passage by the English poet and Jesuit priest Gerard Manley Hopkins using it in that manner. She grudgingly conceded to him and thus began a years-long correspondence. That’s an Irishwoman for you—when you talk of the Savior, God help you if you’re not grammatical about it. St. Patrick’s Day has been weird for me ever since; I didn’t give much thought to it before she died, but only two generations removed from Ireland, the celebration always seemed like a weird photocopy compared to the actual Irish people I knew. Since 2010, though, I’ve come to value it a lot, less as a celebration of my heritage and more as a reminder in the air that four years on, she was here, she lived and she left footprints. The week of St. Patrick’s Day 2011, Raychel and I took a weeklong trip up to New York and, both of us being irredeemable nerds, our itinerary was largely museums and historical sites. One of the things I was most looking forward to was the Irish Hunger Memorial in Battery Park City, a half-acre plot of rocks, grass and soil imported from western Ireland. Since we had timed our trip with the parade, and this would be the first St. Patrick’s Day since Grandmother died, I was thinking a lot about her on the trip. During our visit to the memorial, I noticed a Gaelic inscription on the entrance corridor: “I scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine”—we all live in each other's shadows. Seeing those words and thinking about Grandmother and all her contradictions, and all of my own, I felt like I didn’t quite get it at that moment, but I felt like someday I would. Or maybe I never would, but it would still be okay. #StPatricksDay #Grandmother #IrishHeritage #Family #Ireland #Heritage
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Art and AviationLast year, Japanese anime director and animation icon Hayao Miyazaki announced that he would retire from directing. This isn't the first time the director said he would retire, as he previously claimed that Princess Mononoke (1997) would be his last film as a director. If Miyazaki does retire from directing, than that means that the 2013 film The Wind Rises will be his last picture. While Miyazaki will still be a figure around Studio Ghibli working on other projects, The Wind Rises may be the last time the studio releases a film that is pure Miyazaki. If that's the case, then how does The Wind Rises hold up? The Wind Rises is both an example of Miyazaki's auteur status and a departure from what he regularly produces. The film is a fictionalized biopic of the life of Jiro Horikoshi, an aeronautical engineer and chief designer of many of the airplanes used by the Japanese military in World War II. The film follows Horikoshi as he grows into adulthood, showing his education and the challenges he faces as an airplane designer and engineer. The story, which also blends a novel by Tatsuo Hori into Horikoshi's life, also shows how Horikoshi's relationship with a young woman named Naoko affected him and the work he created. The film is not intended to be a faithful representation of Horikoshi's life. Naoko never existed, and many of the events that Horikoshi deals with also never happened. However, what is important is how Miyazaki uses the elements of Horikoshi's life and Hori's novel with his aesthetic to tell a story. The Wind Rises is not a realistic movie, but it never attempts to be wholly realistic. The film blends magical realism with Horikoshi's life. Throughout the film, Horikoshi and an Italian plane designer named Caproni share dreams, each man sharing their ideas about art, beauty, and airplanes as they continue to meet in the dream scape. There is no real explanation behind these dreams, but they do add to the greater themes of the story. Horikoshi's dream in life was to build airplanes. He and Caproni saw the beauty in aircraft and the freedom that flying gave a man. However, both men lived in countries that fell into war, forcing the men to use their creations as weapons. Horikoshi at one point jokes that a plane of his would fly easier without the guns, but this is merely laughed off. Despite building tools of death and destruction, Horikoshi learns to love life and to love his craft. It's his relationship with Naoko and his dream meetings with Caproni that allow him to avoid falling into cynicism. This is important because of what Miyazaki said in a recent interview. The director criticized Japan's anime industry, claiming that most of it is decided by otaku, or anime fans, who fail to observe real life when they create anime and manga. The Wind Rises can be seen as an allegory for these feelings. Horikoshi is a pure artist and dreamer, but he has to compromise his talents to create weapons of destruction. His major accomplishments in life will be regarded for how they were used in war, even though all he wanted was the freedom to fly and create. For Miyazaki, he is an artist living in a culture where most anime is based on various fetishes. Because of that, The Wind Rises is also a subversive Miyazaki film, while still retaining a lot of his trademarks. The hand drawn animation is gorgeous, and the scenes of flying and other more fantastic sequences like the dreams are truly visual marvels. However, it's also a more down to earth story, lacking a lot of the fantasy that can be found in films like Castle in the Sky or Spirited Away. The Wind Rises is more like other films produced by Studio Ghibli like Isao Takahata's Grave of the Fireflies or Yoshifumi Kondo's Whisper of the Heart, where they use the medium to tell realistic stories with touches of fantasy all while keeping the human drama present. With this, Miyazaki's final film is one that is quite the departure from his previous works, but probably one of his better films. It's not going to be as popular as Princess Mononoke or My Neighbor Totoro, but it's still quite an accomplishment. This film could have easily been a live action drama, but animating it allowed Horikoshi's tale to be told in a much more elegant way. If this really is his final film, then it will be an appropriate end to the legacy of one of the greatest animation directors ever. If it isn't his last film, then hopefully this will be the end of one era and lead to the start of something even greater. #Film #FilmReview #HayaoMiyazaki #Retirement #Anime #Japan #TheWindRises
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How to Make it Through a Municipal Meeting No matter where you live, you may find, from time to time, the need to attend a local government meeting of one kind or another. (Thank the Ancient Greeks for the chance.) From school board to city council to a plethora of committee meetings, you better come prepared to survive the grueling task of civic engagement. Here is my survival guide for attending government meetings, based off of my personal experiences. I was prompted to make this list after my city's most recent council meeting lasted more than 5 hours and left many emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. I felt the hurt for days after. Here's how you can avoid similar hurt: Before the meeting:
• Charge your phone. You need to be able to take pictures and post tweets and updates for everyone who could not make it. Find out if your locality has a hashtag used to discuss the meetings. • Stay hydrated. Florescent lights have a way of sucking the moisture out of you. • Eat a healthy meal. You will need those vitamins later! • Check online for a meeting agenda. Not that the agenda matters much. They do seem to change the agenda at the last minute on a regular basis. But knowing the agenda, and maybe even printing it out is a good move. The local government does not always provide sufficient copies of agendas at the meeting. • Make talking points. Your input is important, if nothing else, for educating the public, so get up an talk! • Stretch or exercise before if you can. Sitting or standing still for who knows how long can be mighty uncomfortable. • Wash your face and brush your teeth! You are going out in public and there will be news cameras. It's not about beauty standards but it is about you feeling confident and looking presentable. Whatever that means to you. • Gather your quarters for the parking meter if you are driving. Plan ahead with transit, sometimes areas can take a while to find a cheap or free parking spot. I often ride a bike for this reason. • Hug and kiss your loved ones good bye. You may not be seeing them for a while. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Friday Night in Suburbia #SaturdayNight #Suburbia #Camera #Video
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The HillBy Matt Treacy QuailBellMagazine.com Climbing a foggy hill in Richmond, Virginia, I find myself beside the sky, looking down over a winding river city and its bustling people. Here is a land of tremendous beauty and determined people. It’s a part of Richmond that reminds you to actually stop and see everything around you. Here, a quiet place called Church Hill is the highest point at the top of our world. Turning a corner, I can almost feel a turn-of-the-century house crumble beside me, though it stands strong and solemn against the winter. To the untrained eye, the far eastern part of Richmond City may be an undesirable place. The old, historical buildings might appear decrepit if you’re accustomed to a modern aesthetic. Lacking the business of downtown, the Hill can seem slow, docile, even boring. Beyond that, it’s just plum hard to get to! The truth, however, is quite the opposite. Church Hill is a place of development and opportunity. For the budding family, the area offers a chance to relocate to an increasingly secure part of Richmond; for the individual, a chance to embrace independence, save money, or become a homeowner. There is a quiet here that reminds me of the small family farm where I grew up. Walking around the neighborhoods, I can almost smell the crabapples before a rainstorm. Alone on the sidewalk, I’m sure I can hear the train and the peeper frogs. Strolling through Chimborazo Park, I travel back to many afternoons spent with my father on the family property… …ever since I was strong enough to carry a shovel, my father and I have been mending the potholes that plague our driveway in Hanover County. Heavy rain and vehicular traffic are the main culprits, washing away the gravel into the adjacent hay field. And so, a few times every year, we soldier out with shovels and coffee to talk sports and fill potholes. Once I asked him, “Why do we have to do this all the time?” “Because this is our property,” he answered. “It’s beautiful, so let’s you and me keep it that way.” As a child who really just wanted to hit rocks with a stick, I doubt that I fully appreciated his words at the time. But years later, when I heard this lesson mirrored by a politician, I sat up and took notice. During his administration, former Virginia Governor Bob McDonnell used to quote an old Boy Scout saying, “Leave the campsite better than you found it.” It was his way of asking Virginians to try a little harder, to give just a little more of their time and energy. The state departments embraced it, using the quote in speeches and always equating those words with the image of a “good Virginian.” For me though, I could only ever hear the voice of my father, guiding me in the ways of the world, and trying to teach me the value of shoveling gravel and dirt… Climbing higher still, I can sense that old magic of Richmond’s past in the churches and in the air, a vision for our future reflected in the sprawling view of the city below me. Suddenly, I’m standing at the highest point of Chimborazo Park when a cold wind blows and I realize I am not alone. Powhatan, dressed in all his chieftain’s beads and ornaments, is standing with me. He smiles the smile of wise men and, for a time, we silently survey his territory. Then he turns to me and speaks with the voice of my father. “This is our land,” says he. “And it is beautiful.” #Reflection #RVA #ChurchHill #ChimborazoPark #Richmond #History #City #Virginia
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Awareness & Activism Make Us StrongerEditor's Note: This is a trigger warning. The following piece discusses rape, sexual assault, harassment, and sexism. To be honest, I never felt so vulnerable about street harassment, sexual assault, sexism, and misogyny until I immersed myself in reading about it. Sure, I experience it every day, and I have been raped and sexually assaulted. But for the longest time I just figured it was a one-off (several-off?). It wasn't systemic, right? I was a strong-headed teenager and young adult. I didn't take shit from anyone. I stood my ground in the best and worst of times. I wasn't afraid of much other than my abusive mother. When she was away from me I felt invincible. The harassment and other things coming from some males seemed like merely an inconvenience to me. It was much more, but I didn't allow myself to recognize it until years later. Here I am, almost 28, and I am terrified. I read and hear stories of females and women being harassed and brutalized several times a day. For the past handful of years I have been unable to avoid it. The bigger your presence in your community and online, the more you see it. The more you feel it. You can't escape the fact that it didn't just happen to you, it wasn't just a one off. It happens to everyone. It's terrifying. At some level I would love to go back to the strong fighter that wasn't scared of shit that I was—but with that comes the price of avoidance, ignorance, and destructive optimism. With this new knowledge and awareness also comes the inability to find humor in a lot of things I used to find humorous. Offensive humor is no longer just a taboo to laugh about with your friends; it's not funny and it never was. It hurts, and not only does it hurt individuals, it's systemic hurt. I laughed because I didn't know how to address the pain. Now I feel the pain intensely, and I don't know how to laugh. Even when something isn't harmful in its humor, I find myself looking for the pain and suffering embedded in it. I can't laugh anymore, not at humor at least. This is not to say that being an activist and educating myself on sexism and misogyny has created a person that can not longer feel strong or laugh at jokes...on the contrary. It is our society that makes people feel this way. I was just unwilling to look it square in the face. Maybe that means I'm stronger now after all. #Activism #Sexism #Harassment #Education #Misogyny #SystemicOppression
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The Windy City's Don't-Miss Alt Pub EventThe Chicago Zine Fest is this weekend and, though the Quail Bell Crew will not be tabling, we will be represented by River Rat Distro. They're carrying our anthologies and Issue 4 of our 'zine, so we hope to live vicariously through them. Another way to enjoy an event from afar is to preview it. Hence I took a few minutes to shoot the festival organizers quick questions about what attendees should anticipate (besides general awesomeness): What are the origins of the fest? How has it evolved? “The Chicago Zine Fest was founded in 2009 by four friends who decided to make a zine fest happen in Chicago. It started with a bake sale at a punk show as our first fundraiser. We always set out with the intention of having a festival that wasn't just about the tabling. The first year we had a reading, an art show and a film screening in addition to 50 tables that we borrowed from a local high school. This year we have a panel, youth reading, exhibitor reading, dance party, workshops and panels and tabling. The fest has evolved in a lot of ways (we rent tables now). It's also much larger (we have close to 250 exhibitors), we're working with the Center for Book and Paper on awesome hands-on workshops for the day of and hosting our reading in a much larger space this year but we still have remained true to our original mission of creating a volunteer-run festival that highlights DIY and self-published literature. I think the fest could have evolved into something much different if we had let it grow as it was in the first couple years. We made a decision to keep the fest at the same venue, same size, for the last four years instead of growing exponentially in order to maintain the feeling we set out to have for the fest. So it's both a process of evolution and choice of keeping a clear vision for the fest itself.” - Leslie Perrine, an original CZF organizer Who are the lovely names and faces behind the Chicago Zine Fest? What makes y'all a stellar team? “We have an absolutely amazing team of people behind the Chicago Zine Fest. This year we were back down to four organizers (myself, Heather, John and Jaclyn), all of us returning organizers. I have been organizing the fest for all five years, John was involved all five years through Columbia and has been organizing for four, Heather has been organizing for three years and this is Jaclyn's second year organizing. The thing that makes this an amazing group of people is the dedication everyone has to making this event awesome. We all do this with no compensation whatsoever. We have weekly three- to four-hour meetings, along with spending one to two hours of our free time everyday answering emails, hanging posters, editing Google Docs, etc. We are like a little family unit. We cook meals at our meetings, we have breakdowns from time to time and we laugh a lot. We could not do it all on our own either though. We've had coordinators that have helped this year (Julie, Autumn and Zandra) who have helped with everything from organizing our youth reading to laying out our postcard text. It has been a huge help. We also have the help of so many amazing volunteers. We are very lucky to have so many people who also care about the fest and want to see it happen every year. People who help host fundraisers, hang posters and who are at the fest the day of. “ - Leslie Perrine, an original CZF organizer What can zine fest goers expect this year? “I'm so excited for how this year's fest has turned out! Fest goers are in for a weekend full of amazing programming thanks to the members of the self-publishing community far and wide who have agreed to bring their perspectives and experiences to the festival weekend. Our kick-off event is the Friday afternoon panel at Columbia College, and this year's theme is Longevity in Zines. Moderated by Liz Mason, the panel will be a discussion amongst some of the self-publishing community's most dedicated and long-standing contributors: Cindy Crabb of Doris, Tomas Moniz of Rad Dad, and Alex Wrekk of Stolen Sharpie Revolution. We think it's a really fitting topic for our fifth year milestone!” “Following the panel on Friday are our highly anticipated evening readings. We are so excited to be hosting the Friday night readings at the Hairpin Arts Center this year: it's a gorgeous, massive space that will really add something special to this year's events. The first event Friday night is the Youth Reading, in which Chicago-area students will share their work, and which continues to be an inspiring event each year. Immediately following the Youth Reading is the Exhibitor Reading. We have a great line-up of readers this year (Amber Dearest, Amelia Hruby, Caitlin Constantine, Cindy Crabb, Curiouser Jane, K of Lake Effect, Joyce Hatton, Keiler Roberts , Khristina Acosta, LB of Truckface, Mack Attack, Tevor Grabill). Attendees of both of our readings can expect a wide variety of amazing performances covering a breadth of topics and points of view. Don't miss them! And don't miss the dance party we have planned in the Hairpin Arts Center following the readings. Featuring CHIRP Radio DJ Kegan Simons, it'll be a time to catch up with old zine friends, talk to the creators and performers, and just get generally pumped for all of the fun still to come! Then on Saturday we have the main event: the zine exhibition on the first, second, and eighth floors of Columbia College (1104 S. Wabash). Fest goers will find over 200 writers, artists, and makers selling and trading their hand-made wares. Along with the chance to go home with some amazing zines works, attendees can also participate in a number of workshop programming throughout the day. We have hands-on workshops for those looking to get involved, discussion-based workshops on important topics in diy communities, and a family friendly performance from Brain Frame that I'm personally very excited for. A full list of programming can be found at ChicagoZineFest.org or on the Chicago Zine Fest Facebook page so that anyone looking to attend the two-day fest can plan ahead for the events they won't want to miss!” -Jaclyn Miller, 2nd year CZF Organizer How does your zine fest differ from others in the U.S. (and beyond)? Have you checked out the ones in Brooklyn, D.C., or Richmond, for example? What makes Chicago's zine fest distinctly Chicago? “CZF is a bit larger than most zine fests--at this year's fest we'll have nearly 250 exhibitors and three floors of zine fest goodness. We also hold CZF over two days. Day one is the panel, readings, and dance party, while day two is the exhibition. But that's not to say that our size or schedule makes us any better than other zine fests, as we have a lot of love for zine fests of all types! I've been to the past three DC Zine Fests, for instance, and the smaller size of the venue (St. Stephens Church) makes it feel really intimate and chill (the DCZF is my summer zine fest jam and I love it very much). But holding the Chicago Zine Fest in such a large space allows us to include hundreds of participants, many of them from beyond Chicago. We're so thankful that people travel from all across the country-- and world!--to be a part of CZF. Our city is very much an intentional part of the Chicago Zine Fest. Each year's artwork is designed by a Chicago artist, and our sponsors are local businesses that believe in the zine fest and in turn donate space and support instead of cash. We hold fundraisers throughout the year at various spaces throughout the city, and the zine fest often takes part in different Chicago literary events. Plus, Chicago has a very healthy, strong zine community, which is one of the things that fuels our work. Chicago rules. We love this place. “ -Heather C., 3rd year CZF organizer #Interview #ChicagoZineFest #Zines #Chicago #Fest #SelfPublishing #CZF
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Incantation invites manifestation I write because my life fell apart when I was too young to piece it back together. I write because naming the nascent song moves it into existence. I write because there are so few Romani writers. I write because the phantoms in my head are overpowering and persistent. I write when the world is too beautiful and too ugly for me to hold. I write for exorcism. I write for the diurnal and nocturnal birth. I write because women are strong. I write because of queer love. I write because animals, plants, rocks, and all things have souls. I write because I want to travel. I write because I don’t understand the ocean, space, the earth’s core, or anything. I write when I see the connectedness of all things. I write when the goddess Sati-Sara sings me into manifestation and obliterates me into transcendence. I write because my fate is a red thread, and she spins, measures, and cuts it. I write because death is natural and unnatural. I write because my ego is enormous and I’m trying to kill it—I wait in the graveyard at midnight for Kali to devour it. I write because I am afraid of the universe. I write because I wish I were not afraid. I write to scourge the violence from my body. I write because I’ve been raped too many times to count. I write because he tried to kill me and failed. I write because I cannot forget the grotesque. I write because I too easily forget the magnificent. I write because my ancestors are living in my blood and in the altars I build for them. I write because I used to pray every night and no one came for me. I write because my first memory is blood. I write because I still feel hands on my throat. I write because I fell in love and can hardly believe it. I write because it’s still my body. I write because I love everyone so much. I write because the people I have in my life right now are the most wonderful people I know. I write because my story is not the saddest or most important. I write to overcome self-loathing. I write to celebrate the body. I write because I need a reason to live. I write because I am still learning. I write because life is miraculously strange. I write when serendipity is too weird too ignore. I write because of kintala. I write because tarot cards are archetypes of us all. I write to reflect just one aspect of the immeasurable complexity of the human condition. I write because my ancestors were fortune tellers and dancers and my grandmother taught me to read palms when I was five and tealeaves when I was eighteen. I write because I told fortunes to pay for college but was so afraid that I’d mess up someone’s life that I quit. I write because I was an art model and had a lot of time to think. I write because sometimes drugs do help expand your consciousness. I write so I don’t take too many drugs. I write because I’m too afraid to close my eyes. I write because I’m so damn political. I write because I’m a feminist and my ethnicity is confusing. I write because I fiercely love the family that loves me. I write because I tried fashion modeling and thought too much, and thank god I quit because I never grew taller anyway. I write because language is alchemy. I write because I can’t control anything, not even my students. I write because yoga makes my body an instrument. I write because dancing is magic without words and writing is incantation. I write because I’m telling the truth through dreams. I write because I know you. I write because I’m not good for much else. #Writing #Manifesto #ArtistStatement #Passion
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Hats off to The Gay FCCBy Fay Funk QuailBellMagazine.com On Feb. 23, Alec Baldwin published an essay in New York Magazine entitled “I Give Up” announcing his retirement from public life. Following a violent altercation with the paparazzi, in which Baldwin called the man a “cocksucking fag” and referring to a tabloid reporter as a “toxic little queen” after a tweeting scandal involving Baldwin’s wife, Alec Baldwin faced massive amounts of criticism from the press and LGBTQ organizations. He lost a job as an MSNBC talk show host, likely because of the homophobic outbursts. The backlash prompted Baldwin to pen the essay in which he quits his public life, though he is continuing to act in movies and on TV. It’s always saddening and enraging when an actor I like reveals homophobic tendencies, but I see Baldwin’s display with as much bemusement as anger. He has become a parody, an example of life imitating art, and I don’t think he even realizes it. Alec Baldwin starred on one of my favorite shows, 30 Rock, as Jack Donaghy, the impossibly rich and successful Vice President of NBC who serves as Tina Fey’s character, Liz Lemon, mentor. He’s the perfect parody of a white man, clueless as to the difficulties of his subordinates, claiming in one episode that, as the decision makers, white men have it much harder than women or African-Americans. He is so privileged he can never really face the consequences of his actions, though of course he doesn’t see it that way. Jack Donaghy’s idea of a failure is not making as many millions of dollars in a day as he had hoped, or being forced to ask the Obama Administration for bailout money for his company. And yet despite his fortune and his power, Jack Donaghy sees criticism and attacks at every turn, from Democrats, from business rivals, and sometimes from his own staff.
Tina Fey wrote in Bossypants that she always pictured Alec Baldwin in the role, saying “I liked the idea of writing Alec Baldwin as a powerful conservative, having him articulate passionately the opposite of everything he believed in real life.” I think that was part of the beauty of the character, the disconnect between the deeply-held beliefs of Jack Donaghy and Alec Baldwin. Baldwin has been vocal about his political beliefs throughout his career, and is strongly liberal. He was in on the joke. He was aware that rich white men like him were very fortunate and very mockable, and was happy to twist the knife. That’s why it was so funny. Only someone who understood exactly why what he was saying was so wrong could convey such obtuse ideas so hilariously. Somewhere along the line it seems Alec Baldwin stopped getting the joke, and he became the person he so gleefully ridiculed on TV. It’s clear on the surface-level of his essay. In the first paragraph he refers to Andrew Sullivan, Anderson Cooper, and other members of the media as the “Gay Department of Justice” and a few paragraphs later refers to a transman he meets as and “F-to-M tranny,” then tells him he wants to “learn about what is hurtful speech in your community.” The absurdity and misplaced drama of his statements are things you don’t see much outside of, well, a TV show. After reading this part I thought to myself that Tina Fey must be kicking herself, because it’s the perfect premise for a 30 Rock episode. Jack Donaghy is taken to trial by the Gay Department of Justice, a new government institution under the Obama Administration, and attempts to manipulate them by pretending to be sympathetic, unknowingly throwing out homophobic and transphobic slurs at every turn, thus satirically showing how little straight white men know about LGBT people, despite believing they have superior knowledge of everything. Things still work out for him at the end of the episode. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Mixed Blessing By Belle Byrd QuailBellMagazine.com Editor's Note: Thomas Lenihan is a high school history teacher in Arlington, Virginia. He is also the first subject of our new Educator Series, where we ask teachers three questions about education then, now, and in the future. 1. In a single word, how would you capture the challenges you face in your job? Work ethic. Sorry it's two words, but so many students today lack it and it is getting worse. 2. What are your favorite kinds of students? Those who don't complain, work hard, value education, want to succeed, and are respectful . 3. What about education in the past worked better than it does today? And how do you imagine a better state of education in the future? I'm not sure how I imagine a better future. I worry about a lot of what I am seeing in terms of more standardized testing, teaching to tests, emphasis on technology instead of memorization, content, lecturing. In many ways I think we need to go back to basics and be more rigorous. Too much grade inflation, laziness, lesser expectations. #Education #Teachers #BackThen #Past #Future #School
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The Devil is in the Details! While everyone in the DMV area has been dealing with the unseasonal snow and bitterly cold weather, I have been scoping out the architecture of Key West, Florida. As a carpenter, and the kid of a carpenter, I have an eye for woodwork. I love old houses, and I love Victorian style houses. So while riding my bike around and going for sunny strolls I stopped to take some pictures to share with the rest of the fledglings! I'm particularly enamored of the gingerbread detailing on many of the porches. From the railings, to corbels, to brackets, to trim, many of the houses in Key West feature the sort of details that put a smile on your face if you take the time to look for them. Custom Sea Horse brackets and the beautiful cut-out railings make this porch stand out as a cheerful welcome to the home. I found out that the style of houses in Key West is called Conch houses, and while the bones of the houses are very simple, the paint schemes and whimsical trim make them stand out. These basic houses are wooden, balloon framed, up on pillars, and have wooden siding. Conch houses also feature porches across the entire front, and upper floor as well in two story homes. Many of these old homes still feature my favorite, double hung windows. Complimentary to functioning double hung windows are functional wooden shutters, practical for both shade and storms. The photo above features a house which exemplifies three features I love. The beautifully carved wooden door is fitting for the tropical surrounding. The shutters are both wooden and functional—my two requirements for any acceptable shutters. And the little gingerbread trim in the upper corners of the porch columns, called brackets, is simply adorable.
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Cross CultureDance/theater artist Makoto Hirano has recently been making headlines for calling Lantern Theater's production of Julius Caesar racist. The show sets the story in feudal Japan, features an all-white cast, and evidences little dramaturgical research into Japanese culture and history. It even mixes Japanese and Chinese costumes and dance moves. Such a case of 'yellow face' or blending cultures is not unique to theatre, however. (Remember Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's?) Whether well or ill-intentioned, cultural fusion may or may not be perceived as insulting, depending on whom you ask. Let's talk food, for instance. 'Fusion cuisine' is the hot thing right now. But is it in any way disrespectful? Mean? Stupid? Racist? Or should we all just lighten up and dig in? Discuss away, Quail Bell(e)s. #Food #Dining #Cuisine #Cultures #Sensitivity
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Love in Real TimeOver the last twenty years, director Richard Linklater released three films in the Before... trilogy, a series of films following a couple over several periods in their lives together. Each film takes place over the course of a day, showing us how Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Céline (Julie Delpy) fare over the years. The first film, Before Sunrise (1995), has the two meet on a train and spend the day walking around Vienna. The second film, Before Sunset (2004), finds Jesse and Céline reuniting in Paris in their thirties, showing what has happened since their one day together nine years earlier. The last film, Before Midnight, was released in 2013 and showed the couple, now in their early forties, as they have settled into a life of domesticity and on a family vacation to the Southern Peloponnese in Greece.
The first film was inspired by a night Linklater had when he and a woman spent an evening walking around Philadelphia in 1989. Each film is basically that: Jesse and Céline walking and talking, with occasional stops along the way. Their conversations are about anything that comes to mind. The two can talk about philosophy, politics, love, and more, depending on where they are and what comes up. The dialogue in these movies feels completely natural, part of which can be attributed to the screenplay. Before Sunset and Before Midnight had Hawke and Delpy as co-writers, suggesting that time had allowed the actors to reach such an understanding of their characters that they could figure out exactly how Jesse and Céline would act in any given situation. The series is fascinating because of how each film is framed. Before Sunrise is the typical romance film. Jesse and Céline have a “meet cute” on a train. After they have lunch together, Jesse is to get off at Vienna while Céline continues on to Paris. Before Jesse disembarks, he convinces Céline to spend the day with him. In this scene, he intentionally calls tropes common to romantic tales: What would Céline think many years later if she never got off the train with him? Would she feel regret, or would she feel she made the right choice? Céline joins him for the day, and this decision affects the two over the next two movies. Their day in Vienna is a charming day. They walk down cobblestone streets, ride the Wiener Riesenrad, and drink wine in cafes. They talk about various parts of their lives, particularly their romantic life, and part when Jesse has to take a train to the airport. The two, having grown very attached in the short time they spend together, arrange to meet in Vienna six months later. In this movie, the two are young and at hazy periods in their lives. They're both looking for adventure, something to shake up their mundane lives. Both of them are hoping to have this fantastic tale and hope that it leads to something great. Before Sunset destroys the illusion. The movie begins nine years later, with Jesse at a book signing in Paris. He published a novel based on the first movie, and when Céline shows up at the book signing, he spends the afternoon walking around Paris with her before he has to fly back to America. We learn early on that the two didn't make their appointment because Céline's grandmother died around the time they were supposed to reconnect. The two, now in their thirties and more mature, realize how careless they were in their youth, as they didn't exchange contact information nor did they know any other basic details about the other. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
What Tithonus ForgotYouth ends when you stop feeling invincible. And it's that overwhelming arrogance that many older folks I've spoken to miss most about that time. More than the dewey skin. More than the shoulder-shrugging habits of someone with only one mouth to feed. More than the rock and roll. They miss that hopping-on-a-horse-and-riding-into-the-sunset mentality. But perhaps because I've only recently noticed that feeling of invincibility fade—and am therefore not far enough removed from my youth to fully reflect upon it—I don't miss that perceived power. My prudence never let that feeling fully manifest itself, anyway. At least not in a reckless, pointless fashion. At age 20 I was more likely to take photos of forbidden things in foreign places than I was to get drunk in the company of strangers. Here's my explanation for the absent nostalgia over my declining youth: I appreciate knowing my capabilities and my limitations. As you age, you (hopefully) become more self-aware. Part of that self-awareness involves knowing what you can and cannot do. Know the boundaries before you cross them, right? And make every move to cross those boundaries count. That was something that always bothered me about young adults even when I was one: repeatedly breaking arbitrary rules, and usually the safest, most meaningless ones at that, too. Sure, fight the system by stealing liquor from 7-11, you clever 17-year-old you. What? Please choose a cause that matters. Maybe in 5, 10, or 15 years, you will. Until then, do what we all know you're going to do with the liquor. That suburban basement party's going to be really cool. I'll cut the snark. Positivity inspires change; negativity just inspires more negativity. When my elders pine for their youth, I try to pipe up about everything they've experienced that I have yet to live. I envy old people for their stories. They've seen so much, some of which I know lies in my future. Sure, some of those stories suck, but you can't have true happiness without suffering. And suffering is the path to enlightenment. You can't be 17 and enlightened, no matter what you've endured. Why wouldn't I want the wisdom of a 70-year-old? #Age #Youth #Suffering #Enlightenment
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Translating Film to Real Life Most folks who know me would not be too terribly surprised to hear that last night was my first time ever, in my 27 years, watching the Oscars. My dad would also not be too terribly surprised to hear that I went to bed and read before the show was over. Typically I feel like those types of award shows represent a more mainstream culture and are not very relevant to folks within subcultures or countercultures. But my mom and aunt wanted to watch, so we did.
I am not an "up to date on all the movies that come out" person. But from what I did see and hear, I have extracted two main issues, from which I am drawing a further conclusion. And both of these issues have a personal connection to me aside from the political one. Both of the movies and the media around them feature someone I went to college with at the small Hampshire College. Which explains part of my enthusiasm for engaging in these Oscar topics. The two issues stem from the two films Dallas Buyers Club and 12 Years a Slave, which deal with transgender people and AIDS and slavery respectively. The conclusion I am drawing is that movies that deal with important topics are great conversation starters, but the movies themselves are meaningless unless we tackle those issues in the real world. While my mom and aunt find Jared Leto to be very attractive as "hot Jesus," Jared Leto is a cis gendered man. Trans women do not have access to many roles in film, and to give a significant role of a transwoman to a cis man is an insult: a missed opportunity at best and transphobic at worst. Again, this is a movie which I have not seen yet, although now I am interested. And I am glad to see a movie which deals with both AIDS and transgender identity being a part of popular culture. These are two areas in which we need more attention and education and storytelling and history preservation. We can do better than Jared Leto in the role of a transwoman. Because that role and that story, do not belong to straight cis men. Jared Leto may be just a lovely actor, but it is truly not his story to tell. I also think that placing cis people in the roles of trans people opens the arena up for the sorts of joking that sets us back in terms of transgender issues. Ellen Degeneres, the Oscars host, and a lesbian (to my knowledge, though we have not really talked too much about it, me and Ellen), cracked a joke at the beginning of the Oscars, when I was still awake, about Jared Leto being the prettiest princess there. For folks who are transwomen, that would not be a joke. Jokes about cross-dressing and trans people are not steps forward, and are part of the hateful and misunderstanding culture that results in so much violence towards trans people. This is a helpful reminder that cis gender people need to work on their transphobia and dealing with their cis privileges. Intersectionality is a real factor in our lives, and one which means we may have to temper our jokes at the very, very least. Additionally, Dallas Buyers Club is touted as a true story. But the character Jared Leto plays is made up. Time Life writer Steve Friess wrote an interesting article tearing apart the character played by Jared Leto, and explaining all the ways in which the portrayal of this fictional character is transphobic. Friess mentions Jos Truitt, a wonderful person I went to college with who now is the Executive Director at Feministing. Jos slams the point home in her article saying, "No matter what Dallas Buyers Club does as a film, the narrative around this movie, the fact that a man in drag is playing a trans woman, perpetuates the stereotype that we are men in drag." Jos' full article on the Golden Globes and Leto is definitely worth reading. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
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Our Story, Your StoryEditor's Note: On Feb. 22, 2014, Quail Bell Magazine editor Christine Stoddard and art director Kristen Rebelo presented at TedxYouth @ James River Road. This was an independently organized TED event that took place at James River High School in Midlothian, Virginia as part of the school's leadership program. Speakers included Happy the Artist and reps from The Martin Agency, MeadWestvaco, VCU, and others. All talks were recorded and will be made available online this spring. Below is a more fully-realized version of the talk Christine and Kristen gave at TedxYouth. The Quail Bell Crew thanks James River senior Julie Cao for the opportunity to participate in this event. Speaker line-up with event organizer, Julie Cao (center) Legend has it that Richmond was founded when Captain John Smith realized his ship could not surpass the big rocks in the James River. So Smith stopped and founded the city of Richmond where it is today. But what would have happened if someone other than Captain John Smith and his men had been in that ship? How would the story have changed if someone else had told it? What if other European settlers had been in that ship? What if there had been Spanish, Dutch, French, or Portuguese settlers instead? If this were the case, we may not be speaking English as our main language in Richmond today. What if the stories of early Virginia settlements came from the Native Americans who were already living on the land at that time? What if the slaves and indentured servants working for the English at that time had told the stories of Richmond? All of these people are a part of Virginia's history, even though they may not be a part of "popular history." The full story of Virginia is comprised of many different voices—not just the ones you know from textbooks. How do you fit into the story of Virginia? What stories will you tell and why are they important? Everything's a story. It's important to listen, to observe those around you, and to reflect. Reflections on seemingly insignificant events can make for some of the most interesting tales. Christine's story: When I was a little girl, I had a speech impediment that made me shy and embarrassed to speak up during class. I spent a lot of time observing the world around me and writing stories. My fourth grade teacher, recognizing that I felt different from the other kids, would pull my paper off my desk and read what I was working on to the rest of the class. In a sense, her voice became my voice. The rest of the class could learn what was on my mind without me even opening my mouth. My teacher encouraged me to continue writing no matter what. Kristen's story: Unlike Christine, I had a teacher in elementary school who was not supportive of my voice. I came home one day, outraged about a recent cafeteria confrontation between the boys and girls in my class. My friend and I researched what I now know was the early women's movement, but it was decided at the time to give a report on Susan B. Anthony. Unfortunately, my teacher was not interested in sharing my story and I became nervous that the other kids would make fun of me. In the end, the report was never given because I was worried that my story and my voice were not important. Your childhood affects the kinds of stories you tell and how you tell them throughout your life. The art of storytelling is multifacted and includes many disciplines—not just written word, but theater, oral narratives, song. Visual forms of communication such as painting, comics, even sculpture. Even if you choose not to make a living by telling stories, stories are a part of every profession. Take a doctor, for instance. Everyday a doctor listens to and tells stories. A doctor comes into the hospital, practice, farm—whatever they serve—and uses observation skills to examine patients. The doctor must also pay close attention to what patients have to say. The doctor uses all of the stories they've heard over the years to help inform the diagnosis for each patient. The doctor then makes recommendations that will affects patients' medical history and the sort of stories they'll be telling the rest of their lives. No matter where you end up after high school or college, stories will be a part of your profession, too. Stories are not just limited to oral and written ones, either. Stories are as integral to new media as they are old media. The Internet, specifically social media, allows us to tell and share stories immediately throughout the day with audiences from around the world. We don't even have to speak the same language: We can share videos, photographs, and .GIFs to communicate ideas and change our communities in seemingly an instant. Your friends' Facebook feeds are filled with stories from their day. While many of these stories may not be remembered in days or weeks to come, some of them will make history. Thanks to social media, many more voices have been able to be heard over the past two decades than in years past. Those without access to academic or professional prestige can still voice opinions and tell stories online. For example, an 11-year-old girl in Virginia recently raised $30,000 via Twitter for St. Jude Children's Hospital. Before social media, it would have been much more difficult for someone her age to reach out beyond her community. The Quail Bell dream is to tell stories all the time using old and new forms of storytelling, offline and online. But what motivates you? What is your story? And how will you continue to add to the history, herstory, and theirstory of Virginia? #TEDxYouth #JamesRiverRoad #TEDTalk #Speech #Stories #Storytelling #History #Herstory
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The Rise of the Power Brow I experienced the same beauty crisis every vain urban girl faces at some point in her life: too-thin eyebrows. Neurotic plucking led to brows that might as well have been drawn on with a ballpoint pen. Thank Venus that now is the hour of the power brow—a time that will hopefully save future innocent teens and twenty-somethings from making the same mistake I did. Feminism 101: You do you, girl. Your natural brow line is just fine. Work with it. Groom it if you wish. But don't mow it down. In celebration of beautiful brows, I trolled Google Images and quickly found four inspiring ladies whose “eye frames” are right on the money (let's cross our fingers that these chicks are awesome in other ways, too; I was very careful not to go with famous folks). Send The Quail Bell Crew your eyebrow pics! #Eyebrows #Looks #Vanity #NaturalBeauty #FeministBeauty
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Tierra del Encanto I don't really remember my earliest artistic endeavors but my parents will never let me forget the time I drew a huge picture on the front of my babysitter's house. So I guess making art has always been there. I think it was 1988 when I first got a sketchbook and began to copy all of my heavy metal album covers thinking that I would be an artist. My art has always been all over the place since then—cartoons, drawing, painting, sculpture. No certain style, no definite themes. I just made (and continue to make) a lot of art and studied and worked in all areas of the arts. I started working with mandalas in 2010. A friend and I got a grant from the Puffin Foundation for our mandala project. The project had two aspects: one was doing mandala workshops in the community. and the other was creating mandalas and displaying them as random acts of public art. In 2011, I went to a very inspiring summer intensive residency at VCU, and the following year one in New York City at the School of Visual Arts. During these programs I experimented greatly, producing a maddening amount of art. Yet it was still all over the place. In 2012, two friends and I founded the Rear Gallery, which also served as our studios. There is where this current body of work started. The paintings I began doing were just painted over old canvases that I had found laying around dumpsters near VCU's fine arts building. The more I painted the simpler the pieces became. By the time I had to start buying canvas, my painting had evolved into a style with a kind of graphic design quality. I try to make the work feel spiritual like sacred icons using universal ancient imagery, shapes and symbols that speaks to the senses on an unconscious level. I see art as a refuge from the standard complicated contemporary culture. I make art to find a different way of living life. I live in magic and awe with the constant striving for inner peace and growth of awareness. You won't find that in society as it is. You have to create a world around you to show that other ways of living are possible. I live a great life for one as poor as I am. I am lucky to happen upon wonderful adventures and be around fascinating people. Hmmm...imaginary, nostolgic, otherworldly...Well, most of my paintings combine imagery and symbolism from many ancient cultures but there is especially a 'native' influence. By that I mean the White Man took much knowledge from the Native Americans over the years, and all that's left is their stories and art. I am very nostalgic for a time before the land was conquered and destroyed by modern advancement. A time when people practiced sustainability, spirituality and art as a real lifestyle. The work comes from an otherworldly place, a place of enchantment and wonder. My December 2013 move to New Mexico from Virginia has affected my life in many ways. Richmond was non-stop gogogo. Here in Taos, there is nothing to do. There has been one metal show since I've been here for two months. Richmond was all like, “Which metal show do I go to tonight?” So, yeah, a change of pace. I don't drink as much, go out as much, eat out all the time. So, basically, I have more time to create. I have been very busy here making art. The beautiful sunny landscape of the Southwest is affecting me very positively. The sacred Taos mountain soothes my soul and my work seems to be getting more vivid and a little more feel-good, a bit more weird. #Painting #FineArts #NewMexico #CreativeProcess
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A Cinematic Exploration of IntersexualityFrom a purely organizational standpoint, there are plenty of reasons for the gender binary. The system delineates male and female characteristics as separate and static, ostensibly facilitating a natural and sustainable social order. It readily assigns roles and packages gender identity. It is convenient—when it works.
The problem with the system is that it bifurcates an institution with numerous variants. What should resemble a scale becomes more of a lineup. How many will be, are, wrongly condemned by this system each and every day? For those who still feel that sex and gender are a scrambled egg, Lucía Puenzo’s 2007 film XXY is a work of transformative power. What happens when a third sex is introduced, one without accompanying gender cues? The whole film exists in a sort of gray area, one so uncharted that expectations, or rather predictions, are next to meaningless. XXY tells the story of Alex Kraken (Inés Efron), a fifteen year-old living with an intersex condition in rural Uruguay. While she possesses both male and female sex organs, she has been raised as a girl, taking medication to suppress her more male characteristics. She is a very androgynous individual but still more typically male in her behaviour, which is listless and incredibly aggressive. With puberty already underway, her mother Suli’s anxieties surrounding her child are at a height, especially when Alex stops taking her medication. Unbeknownst to both her husband Néstor (a marine biologist who cares for the region’s endangered sea turtles) and Alex, Suli has invited Ramiro, an old surgeon friend and his family, to stay with them for the purpose of convincing Alex to get the surgery that will physically affirm her as a woman. The distress is understandable. Alex’s very sex is a scrambled egg. How then can her gender be defined? And what are Alex’s parents to expect of her future? Being intersex is not as rare as its almost complete lack of representation might lead one to assume. According to the Intersex Society of North America, the condition occurs in one in every 1,500 births, making it a more common congenital disorder than cystic fibrosis. Given that many are still unfamiliar with the term intersex, this may be surprising. Society has long had an uncomfortable relationship with hermaphroditic figures. The condition’s namesake Hermaphroditus, son of Hermes and Aphrodite, marks what is probably the first positive representation but these have since been few and far between. Usually hermaphroditism only occurs in popular culture as something ethereal, alien, often monstrous. However, not all intersex people are hermaphroditic and indeed this is a term deemed dated by most of the community. There are many forms of intersexuality. The overarching definition is merely a general term used to describe a variety of conditions in which a person is born with atypical reproductive or sexual anatomy. Perhaps intersex people are so feared in myth and culture because their condition is inherently subversive to a failing system. As I have noted, XXY is something rare. It is one of the first media instances I have seen to portray the subject of intersexuality with such thoughtful sensitivity. Indeed, it is the first film that I have ever seen on the subject. The story begins with Ramiro, his wife, and their teenage son Alvaro arriving in the Kraken’s bucolic island fishing village. Alvaro quickly makes the acquaintance of Alex. Alex immediately proposes that the two of them have sex. He is alarmed by Alex’s forthrightness, and unnerved by it. What kind of girl acts this way? The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Spilling Ink AgainWhen you think of the poetry of Jeanann Verlee you wonder how can one bring the thunder and the rain? How can something rattle you so much yet feel like a baptism? Well, if you’ve read Racing Hummingbirds from Write Bloody Press, you know these questions are valid. This interview with Jeanann is fascinating and shows a poet on hiatus but not slowing down at all in a creative sense. You’ll notice in this interview how I get on her about being on hiatus and how she so eloquently puts me in check: She may be on hiatus but the thunder and the rain still flow through her and she has many surprises and grand things in store for 2014.
TF: “You are an exit wound, the extra shot of tequila, the tangled knot of hair that must be cut out. You are a cell phone ringing in a hushed theatre, pebble wedged in the sole of a boot, the bloody hangnail. You are, just this once. You are flip-flops in a thunderstorm, the boy’s lost erection, a pen gone dry.” (“Exit Wound,” Racing Hummingbirds). I know you have been on hiatus. Has the pen gone dry? And if so, why? JV: The pen gone dry in the poem, “Exit Wound,” intends to reference the writer’s temporary frustration/neurosis/trauma in the moment of finding her literal pen has gone dry. That moment most of us have experienced where we have an idea and nothing with which to chronicle it—a dry pen, a dead smart phone, no keyboard in sight. The urgent fear that can consume us in that moment, dreading we will forget whatever it is our mind has created before we can write it down. As to the matter of the figurative ‘dry pen,’ I don’t believe so. I’ve been a writer my entire life. I’ve had dry spells before—I didn’t write poems during the entirety of my first marriage, lost six months after the publication of my first book, waned after a period of ill health, etc. I’m unsure exactly why I’m not compelled to generate new poems right now (though I suspect it has something to do with trying to publish my second manuscript), but I am confident I will again. For me, writing has always been something I am simply compelled to do—indeed, ultimately, I cannot not write. So while I’m having a difficult time finding the inspiration in this moment, I know it will return. It is who I am. If the pen has gone dry are there any plans on filling it up or a new kind of pen? Well, filling it up so far has really been immersion in other tasks – definitively more domestic tasks (relocating homes, home repair, decorating, cookie and chili recipes, etc.). I suppose my most artistic endeavor right now is an attempt to return to children’s literature. I am currently revisiting a children’s story I was working on years ago, as well as a new one I just started. I don’t know what this path will look like, but I grew fond of the genre in college and always planned to return to the work. Why not now, while the poems have waned? The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Gift of GivenchyBy Raquel Lynne QuailBellMagazine.com I attended a friend’s dinner party the other week, and had an interesting conversation about vintage clothing with one of the guests. With a disgusted frown on his face he declared, “I would never wear clothes someone else wore. That is just disgusting." This guest obviously did not understand vintage clothes, vintage dressing and the vintage community. Vintage clothing isn’t just popular amongst women; men—and everyone else along the gender spectrum—enjoy this trend as well. When I was six, my paternal grandfather gave me my first vintage handbag. I didn’t understand how cool that was until my teens when I was introduced to the world of vintage shopping. My knowledgeable teachers included my mother and her sister, Aunt Gertrude. Fast forward to my 16th birthday, when I received a stunning green, sleeveless, satin, vintage Givenchy cocktail dress as a present from my Aunt. I was on cloud nine when we landed in Curaçao to celebrate Christmas with my father’s side of the family. I’ll always remember the look on my parents' face when I came to dinner wearing my dress. I think they shed tears. I felt so beautiful and glamorous that evening, and every time I had a chance to wear my dress. As an adult I still vintage shop. What are some of my top reasons? 1. Affordability. How else could I purchase a pair of barely worn Jimmy Choo booties for less than $100? 2. Being green. For those, like myself, who are concerned about being green, buying vintage means you are recycling. Did you know that many times old clothes end up in landfills? Buying and making fresh use of them, keeps this from happening. 3. Quality. I love and invest in high-quality clothing, but that comes with a price tag. Those of us who recycle our clothes to vintage shops typically take those pieces we’ve paid big bucks for. The person shopping at the vintage shop who purchases these pieces is one lucky duck. 4. The Vintage Community. It’s so refreshing to find so many blogs and networking sites that are devoted to vintage conversations (like, well, Quail Bell.) Being able to share your latest finds and recommend great shops is so much fun. It also makes you a smarter shopper—something all of us need to be in this economy. 5. Making Extra Cash. Many vintage shops offer consignment. The shop determines the value of your piece and sells it for you. The shop retains a percentage and you get the difference. My favorite shop donates their percentage to a local charity. 6. It’s Trendy. It’s really cool. My most recent purchases are a pair of Prada Kitten heels and a DVF wrap dress. My next social event, I will be looking so on the mark and trendy! If you have never been vintage shopping, I encourage you to go. It's the Quail Bell(e) way to wisely indulge your label addiction without feeling an ounce of social or financial guilt. #Vintage #Fashion #Thrifting #Shopping #Clothing #Duds
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Our Birthday Wishes to Dr. SeussDear fledglings, Somehow we made it more than halfway through National Read Across America Day without saying happy birthday to Dr. Seuss! We hope you've had a chance to scramble up some green eggs and fry some green ham* and, of course, pick up a good book. Today our editor Christine Stoddard is reading Art Spiegelman's Breakdowns: Portraits of the Artist as a Young %@&*!. It's a hoot (we haven't figured out how to best approximate a quail call in writing.) May your reading for the day be a journey in the imaginary, the nostalgic, and/or otherworldly, as well. Feathery hugs, The Quail Bell Crew *Didn't your parents or teachers ever cook this up for you on National Read Across America Day? #DrSeuss #Reading #Books #Literacy #NEAReadAcross
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When We Break, We Rise There has been a lot going on in Richmond the past few months. 2014 is turning out to be a pivotal year for this city, a year where everything is on the line. Right now, on the precipice of multiple changes, I’m taking a look into my crystal ball to see what the future may hold. Like any prediction, this is no static vision. Things don’t have to turn out like what I’m seeing.
What happens if a development in Shockoe Bottom is created using $80 million of public funds to build a ball park in a historic site? What happens if Monroe Park is privatized and attempts are made to kick out Food Not Bombs and the homeless? What happens if our schools and children continue to suffer because Vulture Richmond gets tax breaks they don’t deserve? Well, what I’m seeing is: The Resistance will happen. The Resistance won’t be a formal organization, but a banner taken up by dozens, hundreds, thousands, who are so sick of living in a place where the few rule the many, where money speaks louder than our voices, and where there is more oppression happening everyday. The Resistance won’t stick to one set of tactics, but will embrace a true diversity of tactics to liberate Richmond from the oppressive bad decisions brought about by Mayor Jones, City Council, Vulture Richmond, and the Monroe Park Advisory Council—among others. I’m seeing members of the Resistance outside of the houses of members of City Council, Monroe Park Advisory Council, Vulture Richmond, Looting RVA, local Developers and more, holding up boom boxes John Cusack style, blasting “Nowhere to run to baby, no where to hide” by Martha and the Vandellas. Because, as we all know from campaigns like Stop Huntington Animal Cruelty, the enemies have faces, names, and addresses. Any good resistance will be sure to gather this intel, and use it appropriately, to bring to the protests to the people responsible for the decisions privatizing our City. Critical Mass bike rides will take a new tone, following a route between the homes and businesses of individuals involved in the privatization of Richmond. Moped and motorcycle gangs will take the time to circle the block where Alice Massie lives, rev their engines in front of Mayor Jones’ house, and do donuts in the parking lots of Vulture Richmond and others. A Resistance play list will develop, the songs will haunt supporters of privatization throughout their daily lives. Banners will be dropped from high way overpasses with messages promoting liberation and an end to corruption in Richmond. A generation of youth will discover the joys of street art, wheatpasting and spray painting their way from one end of town to the other, spreading messages of the Resistance, of freedom, of public spaces. And don’t tell me the youth aren’t hungry for action. We’ve seen them, you’ve seen them. They are itching for something to do. |
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