kiya

"Normally when they say you play your woman like a musical instrument, they don't mean the drum."


"Nobody keeps keas as pets. They don't know what they're missing!"
"Burrowing war parrots."
"Burrowing war parrots!"

I saw my first meteor tonight, the first time I've been completely confident that the streak of light across the curved belly of the lady of the heavens was a piece of falling sky.

I blogged today about visibility and making a difference to the world, in part; poking a sharp stick at visibility, only the loud being heard, stereotypes, talking. A friend talked to me in response about writing to change the world in little subtle bits, and I was dubious; that depends on it being read, that depends on people noticing what's there. It's not a large noise.

I checked my bookmarks of who's linking to me just now, and found a post from today titled "Gratitude", thanking me among others for my writing, for talking about the kink, for building a space where one more person can feel normal.

The meteor flared across the sky in a flicker of brilliant whiteness, stirring the glittering adornments of Her body, and I wrapped myself in the heavens and was at home.

... I'm working through one of the boxes of books that Dad gave me this winterseason, and the handful I just pulled out contained ....

... Tarnsman of Gor.

Well, I suppose I should read at least one of them.

(Update: teinedreugan, upon coming home, informs me that that's something he got and put in the box so it'd get catalogued. Not quite so weirded out now. ;) )



(While I'm writing, so as not to keep posting the random stuff on my mind in zillions of tiny posts:

From griffen: How To Write A Fugue. A YouTube video. At the very least I'm pretty sure jenett and hobbitblue need to see this. Music, of course. Hysterical.)

I need to thrash at this concept until I get it into an essay, I think, but I'm making a note of the seeds of it so I don't lose it entire.

oneironaut and I were talking about power exchange relationships and related stuff, and responses to the possession of power, power and ma'at. Or what arawen sometimes refers to as "If I don't take good care of my toys, I don't get to play with them anymore."

There's something heady about having someone else in a position of vulnerability, by whatever means. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things whether it's kink, whether it's economic power, whether it's social power, physical capacity, spiritual knowledge, anything else: the mere fact of the capacity to do is a drug. And it's not a drug everyone has the skill to handle well. (And the toxicity of the drug depends, I think, somewhat, on whether or not the vulnerability is more chosen than coerced.)

Is the response to an exposed vulnerability to raise up, to work it synergistically, to hold that position to keep access to the drug? Any exposed vulnerability is an intimacy -- this is heavy currency in d/s, but it's also one of those flows of political stress that comes of being an oppressed minority, forced to be constantly more exposed, more intimate, to more people, with less consent, less freedom to say "I don't want to be naked here." Is that intimacy cherished, loved, protected, or is it played for personal advantage? Is it an intimacy that people can refuse to have if they don't want to be exposed, or don't want to be a party to someone else's exposure? (And that goes off into questions of [fitb] privilege rather handily -- not only the confidence of being able to lay a hand on a shirt, but the ability to not notice when other people are stripped, to step away from the whole question.)

My experience of d/s situations is that they make these reactions, the responses to power and exposure, all very immediate and present. oneironaut and I exchanged "You know who you really are when" comments about it -- the whole question of whether or not the jump when granted intense, extensive power over another person is towards ma'at or away. It's always, always, always going to be a drug, but there are good trips and bad trips, and good ways of dealing with the chemistry and bad ones.

I come around to my tendency towards fealty models, exchange of powers, interdependent obligations.

And I come around to, sometimes, choosing to be naked beneath everything, because I show myself who I really am.

(Words aren't coming out quite right. Oh well.)

(ETA: This is partly related to discussion linked from takingsteps, too.)

So I've been having some disjointed conversations:

Kiya: You know, I was going to say that the two conversations I'm having at the moment on IRC are sort of surreal in juxtaposition, but I'm suspecting that Sox fandom is having one of its strongly-resembles-a-BDSM-relationship periods lately.
kviri: <snrk>

... where I suddenly connect up BDSM theory and witchcraft theory:

"My commitment to align my will can only be worth as much as my will."



Meanwhile, I spilled about a third of a allon of milk in the kitchen, which makes me cranky.


... man, I missed having this song ...

"Check it in, check it out, making love I like watching all your fireworks ... I like it when I light those stars in your eyes ..."

This is a political post. Keep in mind that I don't like feeling political, I find feeling political to be a visceral response to a wrongness in the universe, feeling political is "Every Hetheru has an inner Sekhmet", it's not a mode I find natural or comfortable, so this may be incoherent and ranty in bits.

Since I'm being incoherent and ranty on the subject of sexuality, who knows, it may be incoherent, ranty, and not entirely safe for work. Probably won't be, but I haven't written it yet, so I'm making warning noises about the possibility.

Also, the random music selection is amusing me in a dark bitter chocolate sort of way.

Okay, enough disclaimer.

( Women's sexuality, ownership thereof. )