Suck my Cunt (proceeds donated to Feminism)

“Blondie Bitch.”
Some drunk guy called me late one night in a mutual friends kitchen.

Moving in closer, eyes wild in the reflection of my own, he said,
“Suck my cock, Blondie Beeeaatch!”
Placing a hand on my shoulder, pushing firmly, nodding towards his crotch.

“Suck my cunt first then.” I said,
raising an eyebrow, almost bored, without missing a beat.

“YOU’RAAAaaaaaa CUNT!” he spat,
and I stood:
still, smirking, staring him square in the face.

Eyeing me up and down, he grit his teeth, he bit his lips,
“Will you suck my cock Puuuuuhleeeeeze!?”
His words like grunts, forced through cigarette breath.

If nothing else, I knew, he was way too wasted to get hard anyway;
making his request really kind of funny,
laughable, cute, emasculating.

“Hmm, not today.” I shrugged,
twirling my long blond hair, taking another swig of my whisky mixed drink.
“Can’t say I wont ever, but not today.”

Our friend, effeminate in a silk floral robe,
was bent in half laughing, cackling at this, he loves a show.

“Tomorrow then?”
“Will you suck my cunt tomorrow?”
“Well, I don’t know now do I…” he snarled.
“Right, so, if we see each other tomorrow, we can discuss it.”

“He really respects you.”
the friend said later, earnest.
I laughed at this too.

I know that sometimes, to some people, in some states,
I’m nothing but a mouth and a cunt, hair and lips and legs;
and to them I say, suck it.

“Be wicked, be brave, be drunk, be reckless…

…be dissolute, be despotic, be an anarchist, be a suffragette, be anything you like, but for pity’s sake be it to the top of your bent… Let’s live, you and I, as none have ever lived before.” ~ Violet Trefusis to her lover Vita Sackville-West (who never did leave her husband) (early 20th century), quoted in Janet E. Hardy’s book, ‘GirlFag’.

It’s a self eeeee self world.

Some self portraits taken a few months ago that I recently edited to look like candy.

I’m really interested in ultra-femme power imagery, and an esthetic quality so beautiful it shatters all traditional understandings of what ’empowered women’, femininity, female sexuality and/or ‘beauty standards’ can look like. I also quite literally believe that ‘selfies’ are a revolutionary movement, and that aided by the internet, they can change the worlds perception of women, and women’s perception of themselves, in a really profound way.

In Which I Rant (and everyone is shocked).

Couldn’t stop LOLing and nodding (and loving her!) while reading this ‘rant’ by a really great friend of mine, Sonia Stanger. We met in Kindergarten, and have been talking loudly to each other ever since. She was in fact just here in Montreal last weekend for an NDP youth conference and we had hell of an adventure hang night (although I’m a bit worried she still might be pissed at me for breaking one too many beer bottles on the dance floor, ha woops!) But seriously, this sentence! “Women, as a collective, are like the sublime and unfathomable and unknowable goddamn raging ocean.” …

Stanger Than Fiction

Oh why hello there! Fancy meeting you here. What’s that you say? Shouldn’t I be studying for a certain stats final just now? I think you and I both know that that’s why I’m even here, so I wouldn’t complain if I were you.

Just a little procrastination soapbox time for your Tuesday eve’. I should probably write a post about my weekend and Montreal and how much I adore the city and how Canadians need to battle against mounting cynicism, but that sounds altogether too timely and logical, and rather unlike me. Just go back and read my post about Amsterdam, and insert “Montreal” where it says “Amsterdam”, and you’ll be set. TO THE SOAPBOX!

Today, I read a comment online that I wish I could say was shockingly uncommon. Instead, it left me groaning and face-palming by its sheer, disheartening echoiness through the ages:

“I just like…

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burn burn burn

before I was a star girl I was a child wearing plaid, floral, stripes and polka dotes at once. one day vogue said skinny girls with wide eyes and milky skin are in. suddenly I was a lolita, awkwardly trying to make my long limbs move in time with the rest of my body. being stared at and asked for sex by men twice my age before I even knew what blow jobs were. I was thrown into the galaxy, held only by a string tied around my wrists with a label that said, will likely die.

Yonic Lipstick Smudges

One night while watching TV alone in bed in the dark, I decided to record all of the lipsticks I own in my ‘Visual Resource Book’ – a yearlong project for my drawing class that is essentially to just collect imagery/art/anything/everything that we like (this is where all of my rotted leaves live). Because myself and my bed are generally a mess/as much of my life piled on top of itself as possible, I had a whole bunch of old essays scattered around beside me (as well as snacks, paints, books, ect). So when I was swapping between lipsticks, instead of like getting up and washing it off or something that would take that extreme level of effort, I just smeared them all over these essay papers that needed recycling anyways.

Since it was dark and I had no real intention for the smears, I wasn’t paying attention and also didn’t really even see them until the next day, but when I did I was like woah these are actually really interesting. So I cut them all out individually and played around with categorizing them, and then I realized that a lot of them look a lot like vaginas!

Yay yonic imagery! I’ve accidentally/subconsciously ended up with yonic references in my artwork before, and I think it’s really so beautiful. Phallic symbols/imagery/references are pretty much everywhere, (notice the accidental one in this photo? hint: glue) but I find myself constantly drawn to the yonic-like: flowers, kiss-lips, oysters, priests, ha, google it! so yonic!

The Color of Femininity

Just a collection of images that I really identify with in an emotional, chaotic, multi-faceted and mischievous – ultra femme kind of way. (An aspect of femininity and a particular breed of women in particular that I think deserve more acknowledgement and celebration)

Most of them are unfortunately un-cited (except otherwise stated) because I pulled them from the internet (mostly tumblr) before I had any intention of using them.