colorado lgbt issues

Arty Farty Friday

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Arty Farty Friday Brian Gysin  William S Burroughs
Arty Farty Friday
Brian Gysin
William S Burroughs

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The cut-up and the closely associated fold-in are the two main techniques:

Cut-up is performed by taking a finished and fully linear text and cutting it in pieces with a few or single words on each piece. The resulting pieces are then rearranged into a new text, such as in poems by Tristan Tzara as described in his short text, TO MAKE A DADAIST POEM.[1]
Fold-in is the technique of taking two sheets of linear text (with the same linespacing), folding each sheet in half vertically and combining with the other, then reading across the resulting page, such as in The Third Mind. It is Burroughs and Gysin’s joint development.[2]
History in literature Edit

A precedent of the technique occurred during a Dadaist rally in the 1920s in which Tristan Tzara offered to create a poem on the spot by pulling words at random from a hat. Collage, which was popularized roughly contemporaneously with the Surrealist movement, sometimes incorporated texts such as newspapers or brochures. Prior to this event, the technique had been published in an issue of 391 in the poem by Tzara, dada manifesto on feeble love and bitter love under the sub-title, TO MAKE A DADAIST POEM.[3][1]

William Burroughs cited T. S. Eliot’s poem, The Waste Land (1922) and John Dos Passos’ U.S.A. trilogy, which incorporated newspaper clippings, as early examples of the cut ups he popularized.

Gil J. Wolman developed cut-up techniques as part of his lettrist practice in the early 1950s.

Also in the 1950s, painter and writer Brion Gysin more fully developed the cut-up method after accidentally re-discovering it. He had placed layers of newspapers as a mat to protect a tabletop from being scratched while he cut papers with a razor blade. Upon cutting through the newspapers, Gysin noticed that the sliced layers offered interesting juxtapositions of text and image. He began deliberately cutting newspaper articles into sections, which he randomly rearranged. The book Minutes to Go resulted from his initial cut-up experiment: unedited and unchanged cut-ups which emerged as coherent and meaningful prose. South African poet Sinclair Beiles also used this technique and co-authored Minutes To Go.

Gysin introduced Burroughs to the technique at the Beat Hotel. The pair later applied the technique to printed media and audio recordings in an effort to decode the material’s implicit content, hypothesizing that such a technique could be used to discover the true meaning of a given text. Burroughs also suggested cut-ups may be effective as a form of divination saying, “When you cut into the present the future leaks out.”[4] Burroughs also further developed the “fold-in” technique. In 1977, Burroughs and Gysin published The Third Mind, a collection of cut-up writings and essays on the form. Jeff Nuttall’s publication My Own Mag was another important outlet for the then-radical technique.

In an interview, Alan Burns noted that for Europe After The Rain (1965) and subsequent novels he used a version of cut-ups: “I did not actually use scissors, but I folded pages, read across columns, and so on, discovering for myself many of the techniques Burroughs and Gysin describe”

 

sunday kind of love….. gil scott heron

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pouring polka

Grief is neither a disorder
nor a healing process;
it is a sign of health itself,
a whole and natural gesture of love.
Nor must we see grief
as a step towards something better.
No matter how much it hurts –
and it may be the greatest pain in life –
grief can be an end in itself,
a pure expression of love.

– Gerald May –

what a very sad day in america. the deaths of 50 souls in one sweep have been jettisoned to the next level at the hands of an angry citizen. the lgbt community is targeted and wounded during pride month in a southern state and the southern anti-lgbt rhetoric continues to pour out like a geyser in yellowstone.

 

 

disclosure

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American spin

financial concerns have peppered my emotional well being since last fall. i took a position which just didn’t cut paying the bills and i was caught off guard by my struggle to get back on track. i then applied for a position with the state but when complied with a mandatory integrity interview was sent a dear john letter deeming me a drug trafficker even though there is no history of drug sales either on or off the books_certainly no charges of such. this was a huge blow to my psyche. whatever karma i was working through, it had a cost and i fell into depression. only these last few weeks am i able to feel relief. i have changed positions, am training another group of recovery coaches, am starting a small radio show, getting a room mate to help with expenses, getting a part time gig, and hopefully producing denver’s 1st sober- pride dance. my life feels fuller and more technicolor.

this is a time for gratitude for me. i am certainly blessed to be connected to such hearty  resilience after all these years.

song yet to be sung

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“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” — Melody Beattie,
“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” — Melody Beattie,

 

i have spent the last week trying to double dutch my dual-circling jump ropes of ritual-de la habitual. i am clueless whether i will ever ace this thing, but damn- it’s a gift to be able to try.

november is the month for being thankful. and my remembrance during 11/2015 is reflecting on the distance traveled. at dinner this evening i spoke with a friend about how much had changed in the 18 months he has been in recovery. on the drive home, i realized it had honestly been quite some time since i thoughtfully looked back to remember how things were with the intention of seeing the the drastic difference and the gifts i have been given. so here goes

  1. there is no doubt in my mind that sanity would not be woven into my life without recovery. the ability to see myself in the mirror and not cringe or silently disembowel my character has more value than price can give.
  2.  i have learned to sit quietly with myself and enjoy the company. it took 45 (almost 50) years for me to ace that trick.
  3. i have lived at the same address since 2007- aside from my childhood home, this is the longest i have been in one place throughout my adult life.
  4. the trenches left by the claws of childhood trauma have finally begun to support new life. although i still think of packing the trunk, loading the wagon, and taking off for the hills, i have learned to pause and try to see things from another perspective. this is certainly progress not perfection.
  5. i have also made a healthy start in re-establishing a relationship with most of my family. this means a relationship with boundaries. ‘
  6. in closing, i have reached a point in my life that affords me the luxury of assisting others. among all the blessings bestowed upon me since i said “uncle”, the opportunity to have worth and purpose outweighs the rest.

i hope you all have a rich and bountiful month (or more) of thankfulness. my heart is filled with light this season.

Let me tell you

You’re at the Jubilee or you’re all alone
Because the more, the merrier is how
Friends all tell me so
The birds wake up the grass

And they tell everybody
Say it’s time to grow
The sun, whispers to the birds
Oh, the song yet to be sung

Song yet to be sung
(Song yet to be sung)
The song yet to be sung

sunday kind of love- anne clark

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"No matter what the problem is, our experiences are just outer effects of inner thoughts."... louise hay
“No matter what the problem is, our experiences are just outer effects of inner thoughts.”… louise hay

The Other Closet
As the queer community has reached greater visibility, a considerable segment of our population—the queers in recovery from addiction—has remained hidden from the whole. For decades, queer people have been congregating in church basements and YMCAs to offer support and healing to each other for their recovery from addiction. Queer-oriented Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), Narcotics Anonymous (NA), and scores of other 12-step groups are the most organized, but by no means the only recovery support networks for queer people across the country.
Marty Mann, an early recovery advocate who promoted public education about the disease of alcoholism and founded what is now the National Council on Alcohol and Drug Dependence, was a lesbian. She was also responsible for ushering many gay men and lesbians into AA in the 1940s and 1950s. “Mrs. Marty Mann” was “out” about being a woman in recovery (double stigma), but remained silent about her sexual orientation (triple stigma). This was partly because of the times, but also because being out about too many stigmatized areas of her life would have undermined her already compromised credibility as an activist. In our community now, many queers are willing to disclose their sexual orientation or gender variance, but not their recovery from addiction. The lives of far too many among us span both closets.
As early as 1970, gay activists in recovery began to challenge AA in the flurry of queer-positive activity that followed Stonewall, petitioning AA for the right to establish “special interests” gay AA groups. This piece of history, largely unknown to the overall queer community, preceded the 1973 removal of homosexuality as a mental disorder in the DSM-II by the American Psychological Association (APA). Advocates pioneered what was to become a current network of “Gay AA” meetings across the country, arguing that it was important to create a safe and openly identifiable recovery space in which queers could explore the nature of their addiction and sexuality in a supporting and understanding community of peers. This has resulted in a strong, sober queer community that is a subset of the larger community. It has also created an overall acceptance of queer experience in many mainstream factions of AA and 12-step culture in general.
Many queers today express discomfort with the notion of disclosing their recovery within the queer community. As in other oppressed communities in which substance use is a social norm, there is often a reverse stigma and harsh judgment placed on people in recovery who no longer share common activities that center around the use of substances. Further, oppressed communities tend to shy away from addressing addictions as a social problem in their specific communities, fearing that it will bring further negative attention and blame upon them by the dominant culture. Because of these variables, it is important for us to tease out the issue of addiction in our community from the separate but related issue of the “right to use,” and the historic role of substance use in subcultures promoting sexual liberation. Thoughtful dialogue can direct us to recovery solutions that include not only those who practice abstinence from substances as a means to generate their recovery from addiction, but also those who chose to use substances in a way that promotes informed choice, awareness, and acknowledgment of risks, while reducing them

…. excerpted from writings by Tom Hill from History on Queer Experience with Addiction and Recovery. 

i’m like a bird

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When a bird is alive, it eats ants. When the birth is dead, ants eat the bird. One tree makes a million match sticks. Only one match stick needed to burn a million trees. Time and Circumstance can change at any moment. Do not devalue or hurt anyone in life. You many be powerful this time, but remember: Time is more powerful than you. So be good and do good. - Buddha
When a bird is alive, it eats ants. When the birth is dead, ants eat the bird. One tree makes a million match sticks. Only one match stick needed to burn a million trees. Time and Circumstance can change at any moment. Do not devalue or hurt anyone in life. You many be powerful this time, but remember: Time is more powerful than you. So be good and do good. – Buddha

it’s getting to be time to fly a little. i wasn’t expecting that it would come so soon but i feel the wind. there may not be a rhyme or reason. i have to make peace with that. or not.  please note that i have posted a remix version of nelly’s song as well as a stripped down version. i love love love the remix..

 

You’re beautiful and that’s for sure
You never ever fade
Your lovely, but it’s not for sure
And I won’t ever change

And though my love is rare
And though my love is true

I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (I don’t know)
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And I need for you to know

Your faith in me brings me to tears
Even after all these years
And it pains me so much to tell
That you don’t know me that well

And though my love is rare
And though my love is true

I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (I don’t know)
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is

It’s not that I want to say good-bye
It’s just that every time you try to
Tell me, me that you love me (oh, oh)
Each and every single day
I know I’m gonna have to eventually give you away, yeah

And though my love is rare
And though my love is true (yeah)
And I’m just scared
That we may fall through, yeah, yeah

I’m like a bird
I’m like a bird
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (I don’t know)
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away
I don’t know where my soul is (soul is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (and I don’t know where my soul is)
I don’t know where my soul is (I don’t know where my heart is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (and I don’t know where my soul is)
I don’t know where my soul is (I don’t know where my heart is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is
I’m like a bird
I’ll only fly away (and I don’t know where my soul is)
I don’t know where my soul is (I don’t know where my heart is)
I don’t know where my home is
And baby all I need for you to know is… Nelly Furtado

make that move

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Whatever you do, the only secret is to believe in it and satisfy yourself. Don't do it for anyone else. Keith Haring Read more at: http://www.azquotes.com/author/6260-Keith_Haring
Whatever you do, the only secret is to believe in it and satisfy yourself. Don’t do it for anyone else.
Keith Haring

so a blast of ptsd hit me last weekend like a beached whale slams the shore. the light in my life drained without haste and i spent the next 72 hours imagining the annihilation of my world as it is today.

it has been awhile since i have felt in such a free fall and it did take me by surprise. since that time, my internal voice has been making strange noised like bubble wrap underneath a bicycle seat.

what is being revealed is the mismatch of my tasks and my intention. this is a very new doorway appearing in my path. typically, i push past these red flags and signals to continue with blinders on. and this has led me to a few spiritual firewalks. i usually feel burned.

it seems only natural to desire breaking that pattern. i wonder if now is the time to make that move, try to break out of a cycle.

ptsd is woven into my experience like a medieval tapestry. i am still learning how to not become invisible in its presence.