on hand-me-downs, spores, and mourning
…I donned the simple shirts and jackets of a country minister turned social worker. My hair was trimmed short…this was my first, if unwitting, drag, and in it I hid from the puberty that ambushed me.
—a June Round Up 🐸— In this missive: Pondering: Why my garden is not a metaphor Reading: Uprooting by Marchell Farrell & reviews of revolting perfumes Watching: Jacques Demy's Donkeyskin from 1970. Celebrating: a win for all living things in Scotland, or the recent defeat of the obscenity that
--a full circle offering at the full moon-- This post was originally written twenty years ago for my Livejournal blog. The Hungerford Bridge is a liminal space over the 'longest archeological site in the UK'–the river Thames.* This is part of an ongoing series on ossuaries of
--& you're invited!-- Come to the Solstice Outlier Hour! Become a paid subscriber if you are not one already and join in this wee meeting of the minds. Come as you are--no need to have your video on if you're not up for it--just
—ossuaries I have known, an ongoing series— PART II of The Tomb of the Eagles This post continues my exploration of the Tomb of the Eagles in Orkney. Become a paid subscriber and read the first instalment here. “Satisfied [the skeleton] contemplated the Milky Way, the army of bones that