these names are sacred. on their backs they carry the weight of histories & generations, they travel through time and geography. in their depths they hold the heat of burning flesh, burning desire, a burning house. in their skin they remember undiscovered underwater life of the ocean; they ride with tidal waves that slap on the shores of different lifetimes, the only record of their journey appearing in reoccurring dreams.

these names are sacred, look close enough and you’ll see a lifetime of stories: brim-full of swallowed tears hiding behind saucer-wide eyes, secretly released through moist armpits and underneath knees; listen hard enough and you’ll hear the rhythm of tiny gasps of air in between held-breath hiding under tables tucked in the corner of a blurry whirlwind soundscape of hard words and harsh punches and sharp and blunt objects thrown.

these names are sacred, feel deep enough and you’ll be overcome with a lifetime of psychic twin connection, material transcending loyalty, protection and understanding. opening the bedroom door, knowing the other is there even without a knock, to share in bad dreams and cuddles. if you want relentlessly enough, you’ll touch a magnetic desire that bulldozes through thick lines drawn through the mud built with steel encrusted with mold and consecrated with hollow words like caste and class and colonization; yearning throbbing bodies burdened by the expectation of who should be loved, and how, and how much…

and names will never leave anywhere old or enter anywhere new without that secret unbreakable bone – the one that will urge you to sing loud and free along with every word you know to the sound of music, while sitting in the audience at the posh theatre amidst a chorus of white ladies saying “shhh!”

in a name is a lifetime…that ended. before all the questions were answered. before every promise was fulfilled. before every ritual was completed. before every chance to get it right was seized. before everyone who had more love to give could give it; before everyone who had more love to share could share it.

our names are sacred. they travel through lifetimes with wisdom, purpose, memories and unrequited love. they know when they’re needed, they know who they belong to. they stand in front of our doors, and without even knocking we know they’re there. they come to us in the place where the furthest star in the night-sky meets the deepest tide in our body.

names breathe new life in the places where mothers were lost to fires and children were lost to tumours. names bring another set of questions, promises, rituals, and chances to get it right. names bring us new moments to love without holding back.

a friend once told me about the lifetime of “the lowly mayfly, a specimen that lives its whole life in 30 minutes. an insect of incredible detail…three-dimensional symmetry, intricate membranous wings that allow it to escape the hold that gravity places on the highest of the karmic royalty. and in this escape, the mayfly finds its one counterpart, its one life mate, and fulfills the most meaningful experience of its brief life. all in 30 minutes.”

every day for 30 minutes from 5-5:30pm i sit with the stream of sun that blooms through my window and bathes 88 black and white keys, and i watch your black hair shimmer and turn gold in the light.

in every sacred small detail, in each sacred small name, you will live forever.

LOST and FOUND uncovering the spirit of pride
consensual. anti-racist. unapologetic. not your average burlesque.

PRIDE EDITION!!!!

TWO NIGHTS! tuesday june 18 and wednesday june 19
Gladstone Ballroom
Sliding Scale $5-25 PWYC ( No one turned away!)
Doors: 7pm
Show: 8pm – 10pm
All Ages, Venue is Wheelchair Accessible

Lost and Found – what is REVEALED when we uncover the spirit of pride? What does pride mean to us, how has it changed over time, what have we let go of, what have we hung onto? Have we as individuals and communities found everything we need in Pride? what are we still at a loss for?

This show is also about the things in ourselves that are continually lost and found: people, places, moments, feelings. Sometimes when we lose things it is devastating, it is a relief, loss can come as a sudden upheaval, it can be a slow burn. Sometimes when we find things there is surprise, excitement, fear, freedom; both what we lose and find can jolt us from one phase of life to the next.

This show marks the 3rd Unapologetic Burlesque showcase, and we have been deeply reflecting on our experience as organizers as well as on the feedback we’ve received from many folks since our first run. One thing that is clear is that there is a need for these spaces not only for the sake of entertainment, but for a deep collective desire to share and listen to stories, memories, experiences and emotions that we don’t have room to express in our everyday lives, but that are too loaded tender, and explosive for us to carry alone. The lost and found within us can thus be shared among us.

This time around you’ll notice that the structuring of the show, as well as the behind-the-scenes work will be run a little bit differently. Some of these changes reflect the need for us as organizers to share some of the responsibilities and tasks involved in organizing the show; to prioritize payment for performers, crew and organizers that more closely reflects the amount of work put in; to build and share more structures of support around tender feelings and hard shit that comes up for performers and audience members; and to increase physical accessibility of the event by having two nights (that we hope will allow for more space to sit, stand, and enjoy the show)

Read more  here!
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We anticipate lots of interest for this show and have limited spots for performers, we will have applications this time around! We”ll also be having a dress rehearsal a few days before the show. Timing and Location to be Announced.

*In choosing performers we will prioritize a combination of folks who want to try burlesque for the first time, have had past struggles/tension with burlesque, folks who haven’t performed at the show before, those who are seeking access to spaces that affirm indigenous peoples, people of colour, queer folk, trans folk, gender non conforming folks, and  folks with a wide range of abilities/disabilities.

If you’re interested in performing APPLY HERE BY APRIL 24th

If you have any questions/concerns contact Shaunga or Kumari at shaunga.tagore@gmail.com or kumari.giles@gmail.com

So many other new and exciting things, including continuing to work on my one-woman-show and, speaking of Aries, continuing to launch my new astrology business off the ground! I’m definitely feeling the magic of Aries as I move forward in this journey.

Aries is the first sign of the zodiac. A new start to a new year; it is the sign that represents the growth of new life after a long period of winter, dormancy, death and rest. From March 20 to April 20 every year the sun moves into Aries bringing renewed warmth into our lives. Astrology is complicated so I’m going to break it down a little bit: many of us know our sun signs (the constellation the sun was in when we were born) – Ie if you were born between March 20 – April 20, your sun sign is Aries. However, what is less commonly known is that the particular constellation all the planets were in the minute we were born also says something about who we are. Furthermore: the zodiac is drawn like a circle and divided into 12 sections called Houses. These represent 12 different areas of life (Ie – identity, family, relationships, career, etc), and all of the 12 signs or constellations land on one of these areas of life. Still with me? That means that all of us have Aries somewhere in our birth chart, or in other words, the special energy that Aries promises has a special meaning for each of us in a particular area of life.

here’s a picture of a random birth chart so you can get an idea of how they are divided. In this chart Aries (the symbol of a Ram) lands on the 7th house of relationship.

In my own birth chart, Aries lands on my 5th house of creativity and lovers. It took me a while to figure out what this means, but one day it suddenly hit me. Aries is the place in our lives where we survive. It’s where we meet our challenges in the most forceful, life-affirming way. Aries is the place where we are that beautiful flower in the middle of a snowstorm in April, refusing to die. For me, creativity, self-expression, performing, falling in love (all the things associated with the 5th house) – these are the things that make me feel alive most instinctually. These are the things that make me feel like I’m that colourful, resilient growing flower, even if I’m surrounded by a snowstorm. Aries is the flavour of my 5th house, my approach to creativity and love. Taking a close and specific look at your own birth chart will reveal what Aries energy means for you and so much more.

I truly feel like I found my calling in offering these specific birth chart readings to others. And you know I was a big band geek in high school so I don’t mind to, as they say, “toot my own horn” – I am really good at it too! Everybody has gifts and strengths, and I believe one of my strongest gifts is to continually shape and play with language, to communicate what I learn in order to make people’s lives better.

I was obsessed with astrology as a teenager; I left it for a long time but came back to it again in my mid-late 20s. At that point I decided to book a reading with someone (who became an amazing astrologer and teacher to me) because I was in the middle of a crisis, shit was falling apart at all angles and I just needed some guidance. Even still, if I’m going through a hard time I do often binge on astrology blogs to make myself feel better. For myself and for many people around me, astrology offers a way in and out of a crisis. In that it helps me understand myself and what I’m going through more deeply, it helps me figure out the specifics of what is truly unique to me and nobody else; but it also gives me a way to understand that we all are only small parts of larger patterns, cycles and seasons of the universe; that everything is transitory, and whatever is going on in the moment will eventually pass.

Even beyond being a source of insight and comfort during difficult times, astrology has illuminated a language to understand certain inner struggles or workings of my psyche that I haven’t found in other places. For instance, Mercury is the planet associated with the mind – having explained to me in a reading what’s going on with Mercury in my birth chart was the first time someone articulated how I have always experienced cognitive difficulties and the often painful relationship I have to reading, retaining information and my attention span. Nobody had ever given me a language for this before; I had always assumed it was something in my imagination or that it was something for me to struggle with in silence. Looking more closely at Mars in my birth chart, the planet associated with desire, sexuality and anger, lay the most accurate description I’ve been able to find to date to my complicated relationship to sexual and body trauma. There is so much that is useful about many different systems and methods of understanding, whether that is psychotherapy, sociology, feminism, history, art (countless other things), and I’ve found that astrology, as a system of explaining things, can fill in gaps that other systems don’t have room for, through the mystery and magic of the planets, stars and their relationships.

This is all just a really long-winded way of saying one thing: I’m so excited that this has become a major part of my life, and I hope you are too I’ve absolutely loved the experience of doing my first readings for folks over the last few months, and looking forward to more, more, more. Within that excitement I’m offering a special new business kick-off discount for anyone who books readings over the next couple months of spring. Please see my astrology page for more specifics.

here’s to spring and to whatever’s next <3

Endings and Beginnings. When I do tarot card readings, I think of these two cards as beautifully connected, but both holding very distinct energy qualities. “Beginnings” (or in traditional decks, ‘The Fool’) represents a time in your life when you’re all about throwing caution to the wind. It’s a time filled with surprises, spontaneity, and unlimited potential. There’s something that has brought you a renewed faith, hope and trust in your life, in the world – that the things you’re after are possible. This card is, yes, that wild untameable unicorn in you! (of course I went there.) The voice telling you to believe in your foolish heart.

Endings, on the other hand, traditionally is the infamous Death Card. Like the name sounds, there is a heaviness, sadness and longing to this energy. Death is about shedding skin, closing doors, it’s about the reluctance, pain, resistance, sense of completion, and sometimes even relief that comes with. Death is ultimately about transformation and rebirth – something has finished in order for something else to begin. This card can also be about letting go of what’s no longer important, no longer working, so that you have the space and time for what is.

Goddess Kali from Hindu mythology, from http://www.daily-tarot-girl.com

This past year for me as been about growing up. Finishing old things I’ve had for lifetimes and starting new things I once had only dreamed were possible. In so many ways I’ve felt the heaviness, reluctance and sadness of the Death Card, and I’ve felt the foolish optimism, faith and bravery of the Fool Card. I’ve broken out of meaningful relationships, patterns and situations that are no longer working for me, I’ve developed new ones and grown closer to the ones that are, I feel the excitement as well as the curl-up-in-a-corner-in-fetal-position fear of diving into the unknown. Some transitions from the old to the new were slow almost unnoticeable parting of ways, some were sharp, abrupt and jarring.

I think some of biggest lessons I was supposed to learn over this past year, hell, this past decade – had to do with gaining more insight into death. 10 years ago I lost a close family member to death, it was shocking, abrupt, catastrophic in my world. Since then I’ve moved away from home/family, I’ve built friendships and community, lost friendships and community, swelled up in love, destroyed out of love. Most of those experiences with some kind of death or ending were brutal. The kind that ends so messy, breaks so hard and harsh, that you can’t ever reconcile what happened, all you can do is move on, be someone else, leave a part of yourself behind.

10 years after that first incident, this past December, I lost another dear family member to death. But it was such a different experience that it has left me still confused. This time it was a slow and quiet passing, so much so that I couldn’t tell at any given time what was “here” and what was “gone.” It was different too because this time it wasn’t a family member who, while I was incredibly close to in my heart, did not physically live in the same home or even province as me. For years I think I had been learning to communicate with her, and to hold her with me while we lived in different geographies. Now I’m trying to figure out how to do that while living in different planes of existence. Something about everything makes me so confused about how blurry the lines can get between life and death.

Endings and Beginnings, they are one in the same. A death is always an opening for something new – whether or not you like where it aggressively catapulted you, or gently placed you.

I think about all the things I learned about death over the last decade and I’m kind of amazed. I’m kind of really proud of myself. I know what it’s like to grasp onto someone’s wrists as they dangle from a cliff; I know what it’s like to cling to someone’s ankles, and drag along the floor as they leave, not noticing I’m there. What it’s like to choose to be the one to go, to make those hard decisions without showing them how much it hurts. To end something before the other is ready, to not be able to put the energy into a goodbye. I’ve had death explode in my face, I’ve had it quietly, almost secretly slip by. 10 years ago a death made me lose all my hope and faith in the universe. In 2012, my grandma gave me the most beautiful gift in her passing – a surprising clarity, comfort and trust in the spirit world that I never thought I would ever find again.

Now, I hope the next 10 years of my life will give me a greater insight and understanding in all the wonder of the Fool Card. There is that untameable, unstoppable wild unicorn in me that I can feel is waiting at the gates, waiting to charge free into the path ahead, unable to contain her enthusiasm. I hope that I will find and keep finding more and new ways of being open, feeling open. Finding faith, trust, and belief. Of throwing caution to the wind.

And there are so many things to be excited about. New adventures in art, community and astrology that you can find more about by clicking around on this website! Astrology is something that has given me a lot of comfort and insight in times of dealing with the grief of what’s passed, or the anxiety of what’s to come. The planets, the stars, the way the universe exists above us, around us, and through our relationships to each other – this has all given me a language to understand the ways in which we are individually incredibly unique and complex, and at the same time connected and a part of larger patterns and seasons in our lives, in past and future generations. In other words, it has given me a feeling of solace and purpose while moving through all of the universe’s natural rhythms of death, change and rebirth. It feels right to move forward this year with astrology as a significant and growing part of my life.

So yes, a year and a decade where a lot has happened. A time to come where surely a lot will happen. I’ve (un)learned a lot, loved a lot, lost a lot. And I’m just beginning.

*this is a performance of mine called “prayer” from Queer Diwali 2012. It reflects a lot of what I wrote about here; a moment that I want to keep with me and remember. Also it inspired in part my sister’s painting (also titled “prayer”) that I use for the background of my website.

i need someone to tell me i’m beautiful
i need someone to think it, feel it, believe it
i need someone out there
whose heart will flutter when i flash my charming mischievous smile
whose pulse will race when i saunter into a room or strut on a stage
whose body will warm when they squeeze me tight and smell my skin
who will notice the boldness and vulnerability in my silence
who will be turned on by my words
who will always see the water behind my eyes
who will be captivated by my presence and spirit that drips from my body on the hard days and radiates like sun beams on the good days
someone who will recognize the anxiety and hypersensitivity i carry myself with daily and love me for it
(even, ESPECIALLY, on the days i feel like there is NOTHING good about being a scorpio rising!)

i need someone unable to look away

i need someone to think it, feel it, believe it
and say it out loud
that i’m sexy, adorable, pretty, attractive, gorgeous, yes even cute
i need someone to tell me i’m beautiful
and so thankful that i’ve heard those words today and in the past
makes bad news come a little less hard

because beauty isn’t something they told you about in teen magazines,
america’s next top model
or in lusty conversations the boys in your grade 7 homeroom had about people you could never live up to

beauty is the story only you can tell
it’s your secret code nobody could ever decipher
it’s that magic superhero fail-safe hidden deep inside your gut that only you know how to activate when under attack
it’s the heartbreak, laughter, and survival that only you have lived, and the knowledge that only you have gained

beauty is that rare, precious, unimaginable gem i see shine inside of you that nobody else has or ever will possess

and i need someone to see it in me too 

i was telling a friend today that i received another grant rejection today…and suddenly was transported by a memory from when i was 12 years old, in middle school in good ol’ dauphin manitoba. it was lunch time, my friends and i were being our wacky-jacker goof-ball selves, and one of my friends thought it was a good idea to approach this white boy in our class, grant, with a proposal. “HEEYY do you wanna go out with shaunga?!?” GRANT, then replied with one overly emphasized word. “eeeeewwww” complete with an insulting over-exaggerated shudder. 

my first rejection from a grant. and why? i don’t think at that point grant and i had ever exchanged even two words. he didn’t know me – what could he have heard of this small brown grrl that could be so bad? (and what political things were involved with his selection process…?)  he was probably just really stupid – no mystery. cuz who wouldn’t want to tap this!? but i also can’t deny that there’s a reason why memories and experiences like this stay with me, and have hindered my relationship with my own self-worth and desirability.

so i think again that the straight-white-male-grown-up world makes it so hard for a lot of us to keep believing in ourselves and the importance of what we bring to the world and each other. but i guess it makes sense, because i have this uncontrollable commitment to keep creating art and work that throws a wrench in the structures and ideologies that keep straight-white-male-grown-ups making decisions for others, and me.

and i’ve had to define my self-worth on my own terms. i don’t think i would have it any other way.

got a random surprise email from someone, i don’t know them very well, we just recently met.  it was short and sweet…”…i just want to say that i can definitely feel your writing…its honestly beautiful “

i remember just over two years ago hearing words swung at me like steel wrecking ball. “i just don’t feel your writing.” i remember how much those words broke me. those words made me feel like i should just die. like i didn’t need to be alive. those words held so much power over me. that i could lay bare my body and soul completely naked, vulnerable, honest, completely ME – in front of someone who i loved with every part of my heart, skin and blood…and the only thing they could say in return is…”i don’t…feel…you.” i don’t feel what you have to say, to offer. i don’t feel, i don’t care, and it means nothing either way. it’s like when you can feel this person’s presence vibrating through every fibre of your body…and they don’t…feel…you. no wonder i wanted to die. what is the use of living if your presence isn’t felt. if it doesn’t matter to the person you feel the closest to. that’s some of the coldest fucking weather i’ve ever felt.

i have pages and pages of journals, words, evidence of all the pain that screamed out of me during the months after those words were uttered to me. that’s what i do when i’m trying not to die. i write.

so believe me when i say i know the power and meaning behind words that say they don’t feel my writing.

believe me when i say i know the power and meaning behind words that say they do.

giving my beliefs respect means giving them room to breathe, grow, change, expand. it means allowing space for reflection, question, challenge. creating space within myself to listen to others’ beliefs, experiences and knowledge.

in every conversation, in every encounter, to pay attention to and seek the things being offered to me that i hadn’t known before, that are special and a blessing, and to offer the things that nobody else but me could give, that are special, that are a blessing. to hold in the highest regard the practice of listening and being listened to. to always respectfully demand this of myself and of others, internally and externally.

to always challenge and fight against the creation and maintenance of harm and violence. to continually interrogate, develop, break-down and build categories of how to understand what harm and violence is and how we experience and contribute to them; to continually interrogate, develop, break-down and build definitions and practices of how to fight against them.

to always know that curiosity and creativity come from the same place as justice and freedom. to always hold these things close to my heart.

i tend to believe that the world is fucked. it’s been fucked with for too long and too hard, in too many different positions. it’s been taken for granted, it’s been used and exploited, and humans have created and embedded systems into this earth that do not consider its health for its future, depth or wholeness. we were born into a generation that sees the world in a hyper-speedy downward spiral, and most of us do not have control over this,the ability to fix things before it’s too late, or the capacity to right all the wrongs we were born into. for us it’s like trying to catch a ball falling down a massive hole in the ground that has a huge head start.

the people who do hold the power to make changes to this destructive system that governs the way we live keep choosing wealth, health and luxury for the moment, for concentrated areas, at the expense of sustainability for future generations or fair distribution of wealth, health and luxury in every area of life on the planet. we grow up with our imaginations and expectations colonized, it takes a massive amount of effort and energy to unlearn and challenge this colonization in our minds, bodies, relationships, communities. it’s not easy to develop the tools to practise this decolonization, and many people, when challenged with the task, will choose not to give it any importance or consideration. at this rate, i don’t believe we have many generations left.

but in the long run/thought, i can find peace in this. every story has an end, every life has a death. we all experience necessary endings and beginnings at various points in our lives. there is so much beauty to this. it’s arrogant to believe that we, as a human species, should last forever. and given what we’ve collectively done to the planet, each other and ourselves, we don’t really deserve to.

at some point a woman needs to “walk away” (as the ableist saying goes) from an abusive relationship. no matter how much wealth, nourishment, joy and love she gave, no matter how much connection she still feels, no matter how much she will always cherish the beautiful things that were made, she knows that at some point she needs to let go of a relationship that is not giving back to her, or valuing her. she needs to rest, re-evaluate, re-build, replenish and rejuvenate herself. she needs to create life in other places, find someone else to love, and take the risk that they might even love her back. these are the hard lessons i hold within myself, and i want this for the earth and her fierce and vulnerable brilliance as well.

so the direction humans are heading is fucked, but in the meantime, we are not doomed. in the meantime, the only thing i can do, is the best i can do. to commit to always be honest and devoted to what i believe, in thought and action. to root creativity and curiosity at the bottom of my feet and gut. to continually re-examine what respect is, how it is given and taken, within myself, my intimate relationships, friendships, community, social-global position and the ghosts of past, present, future that i must work hard to recognize and listen to.

to take time to care for myself and others who need my care. to take time to laugh, play, be silly and lazy. to develop myself creatively, politically, intellectually, spiritually.

to challenge the ways i do harm, to demand no harm be done to myself or to others.

to be sure of what my passions are and to follow them, to nourish and empower myself so that i can usefully contribute to the communities, people, projects around me.

to value myself holistically, in emotion, thought, spirit, physicality, experience and knowledge, and value others in the same way.

to recognize all the unique skills and talents we all bring with us to each other, and to value peoples’ work and contribution, especially that which is commonly ignored and under-appreciated.

to learn not only to balance idealism and practicality, emotions and logic, thought and action – but to look for the places where each thing reinforces and strengthens one another, the places where they all exist in the same vessel.

to take time to indulge in fantasies, cravings, hunger and desires, knowing that these are the fires that keep our spirits burning brightly when so many things try to squash us with fear and shame every day. to create space where we can express and enjoy the beautiful, bold, brilliant and brave parts of who we are.

i am by no means perfect, and have a lot to do to live up to all the things i believe. i may never get there fully, but i might always get there in moments. so might we all. but i know this is my path and the only thing i can do is follow it.

knowing that any time i create, or witness created, a moment, a day, a conversation, a relationship, a family, an event, a piece of art, a piece of work, a program, a community, an exchange across a room, border, culture or ocean that operates upon respect, creativity, curiosity, sustainability – i’m no longer chasing a hopeless ball falling down a hole. it no longer matters that we are a generation born into a destructive system that teaches us we have no agency over anything including our minds/bodies/spirits/relations. it doesn’t matter that we’re a story close to an end. it matters that we didn’t let destruction destroy us. i didn’t let violence control me.

it matters that we chose to live by guidelines we create and believe in, not by rules and limitations forced upon us. what i can do is choose to live by what matters. that is the best thing i can do. that is the only thing i can do.

“can the imagination which created the problem be the thing that solves it? i don’t think so.” –Arundhati Roy

(PS – GUESS WHICH TWO PEOPLE HAVE A SUN-MOON COMBO OF GEMINI-SAGITTARIUS and SAGITTARIUS-GEMINI? ME AND ARUNDHATI ROY, RESPECTIVELY. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, WE’RE SOUL MATES!!)

I feel blessed and honoured to be a part of the anthology, Feminism for Real: Deconstructing the Academic Industrial Complex. (Also see the follow up event here!) Not only because it gave me space to put down in print and solidify forever my XTREME-RAGE-AGAINST-GRAD-SCHOOL, but for many other reasons as well. As editor Jessica Yee has stated many times, including in the book, it is not a “hate-on” feminism or academia. To me, it is exactly the opposite: in deconstructing all the things that feminism far too often tends to be (ie oppressive!) what’s revealed is a love for all the beautiful and powerful things feminism is and can be FOR REALZ. I think that one of the reasons it means so much to me to have been a part of this project is because of where I realized my tumultuous relationship to feminism has brought me.

I’ve had my (un)fair share of emotionally intense, be-all/end-all uber-dawson’s-creek-stylez dramatic love relationships. and feminism is right up there with them. when i first met feminism it was like fireworks and stars exploding in the sky. it was passionate, energetic and exciting – the kind of all-out love where you would gladly spend all night awake talking online, confessing your undying love for each other. ‘truly madly deeply’ by savage garden playing in the background on repeat. (you might have noticed by now that yes, i was once a teenage girl growing up in the late 90s.) it was like the kind of relationship that gives you the oxygen you didn’t know you were missing.

and it’s impossible for that same life-giving relationship to oppress you to the point of suffocation, isn’t it? There’s no place in your imagination where you can understand how they could do such a thing (to YOU, of ALL people!). but unfortunately it happens all too often. feminism is no exception.

it’s the most confusing kind of devastation. you can’t tell the difference between when they’re being the air tank or the knife that cuts off your supply. you don’t know when or if they’ll show up with a sweet smile and your favourite childhood movie or another bruise. you fear to walk into the place that you were so sure you made your home, knowing that you might spend the night bombarded with lashes and backlashes. you keep trying to go home anyway, you try and try to make it work. not because you’re weak, but because you knew that you felt something real and you need to get it back.

if i’m talking about feminism, i’m also talking about anti-racism. you saved my life and changed my life when i found you, but i don’t know why you keep hurting me. why is feminism so relentlessly racist? why is anti-racism so unapologetically sexist and homophobic? why is it so easy for either of you to be ableist, classist, and box people into cold categories of ‘good activist’ and ‘bad activist’ without any consideration for all the diverse ways people survive, cope and resist trauma?

this is why this book means so much to me. because i’m still not any less confused or scarred from any of my big love-big pain relationships. but this book reminds me that i’m not alone, and that despite the ways oppression invades our homes and most cherished relationships, i still know how to see love, for real; and to be in love, for real. i know that so many others who appear in the book, so many who will read it, talk about it, support it and live it still know a feminism that they’re in love with too. it’s an amazing thing to be reminded that there is a community out there who will never stop calling attention to abuses within our movements, and also will never stop valuing the joy and significance of what is empowering within our movements. we are people who keep trying to make it work – not because we’re weak, but because we won’t give up on falling in love with what matters most. for real.

Yet another reason why I wish I had Shameless Magazine to read as a teen. Instead of layering on sexist, racist, heteronormative, classist garbage into my brain like thick cement (I can still remember DETAILS from 17 or YM or Cosmo that I internalized as a kid as ‘truth’ that now I can recognize as so oppressive, it’s incredibly scary!)…Shameless, on the contrary, will actually NOT make you feel like crap. So happy to be working as an editor on it now. Cuz wouldn’t it be nice to read a magazine that’d give you reasons to love your body, no matter what shape, size, colour or height, rather than howl, sob and blubber about it to your confused family on an unsuspecting Tuesday night!

We’re currently putting together our Spring 2011 issue, and we’re always looking for new writers, so please get in touch if you’re interested! Or check out the website, specifically for guidelines on how to submit pitches: http://shamelessmag.com/contribute/

I’ve also updated the ‘writing’ section of my website. Now there are links to a review of my upcoming book of poetry, an interview with yours truly (don’t you love reading me ‘talk’ as much as I love reading me ‘talk’???), and a video of me reading some of my poems! All of that was originally published on http://blackcoffeepoet.com – a great web magazine dedicated to showcasing poetry that DOESN’T revolve around dead white men (yay!). My work was featured during the December 6th week of challenging violence against women.

Lastly: PARTY!!!

Shameless Rock ‘n’ Riot Issue Launch: Sunday Feb 6th, 3pm-6pm, Toronto Women’s Bookstore