In This Issue

A practice in vulnerability​
Pleasure & elemental queer magick

Weave your support constellation​
Wednesday, Dec 6th

Erotic scar care & genital disarmament​
(warning: mention of sexual trauma)

Hi Reader,

I'm knees deep in a three-month somatic writing course which has me engaging in ever-increasing practices of vulnerability -- so I'm gonna try some shit out and trust that you're here cause you want to be, or you'll see yourself out gently. My princess refers to my raw unveiling as "seeing behind the curtain". The short of it is, I'm trying a thing and you're invited (being taken) on the dime tour, you just read on!

Do you have cycle rituals: hormonal, celestial, or otherwise? I've been intentionally calling to both the New and Full moons this past year: taking those evenings off mostly for myself, whether I spend the time woo-woo-ing out or simply engage in pleasure practices that honour cycles of planting and harvesting intentions. It's a tool/habit I use to integrate change by centering erotic queer creativity. I like playing with different rituals and curiosities, depending on what I'm bringing and what I'm hoping to receive through my actions.

Here's an example:

The last two weeks I have been ON FIRE. Two separate mouth surgeries + two fillings = every muscle in my head hurts including my eyeballs; I feel overwhelmed by the heat between my ears. And that's just my head. Also on fire in my BEING. Not in a, "I'm getting shit done" kinda way, but in a "fires are being lit all around me" kinda way. Though not in a, "Uhoh!" kinda way, but in a "Fuuuuck that's spicy and I'm here for it" kinda way. It's what I asked for. I've been crafting an elaborate courtship with fire for the past 6 months or so and it's as though everything just POOF and started igniting. Scary if I'm honest...and exhilarating.

So, that is what I brought to this Gemini full moon last night: heat and an intention to appreciate its presence (appreciation is my word of the year anyhow). I spent the day arousing intimacy and vulnerability with a darling trans elder friend while tending to body pains and inflammations. I went to a salsa dance class and got my blood boiling a bit. Then I started the evening with a firey bath (inviting the safety of watery elements to help me hold this much intensity), candlelight and starry sky, a new hottie I'm courting, plenty of erupting strokes, and shared awakening breath.

What I was hoping to receive was an injection of this fire into my sense of self-love. Since burning down my world with fire at the age of 19 years old, I've been reluctant to turn towards heat, often crafting elaborate collaborative efforts to harness the support of others' fire in service to my needs. But now, I'm shifting and shedding those protective patterns, rousing kindling at every turn.

Once I was alone last night, I gathered some cards written to me in the past two weeks -- handwritten letters are an injection of warmth straight to my heart. I turned on a gently guided breath meditation. I set up my pillows to account for my creaking knees, added mood lighting and lit a candle, and pulled some tarot cards from a sultry deck gifted to me by a sweetie who often lends me their fire. I pulled out my favorite sucker toy, resting it under me as I laid on my belly, a heating pad on my back. Barely sliding into it on the lowest setting, I took a slow exhale and allowed it to lead me into the guided breath meditation, softly sliding with each inhale and exhale.

At first, I just focused on the steady in and out, following the rhythm of the recording. Once I had settled into a flow, I began to read through the letters, allowing each sentence to linger, melting and swirling with my oceanic movement and steady waves of air. I allowed my attention to drift between the mindfulness practice of pacing my breath, the pleasure practice of steadying my undulations, and the savoring of the words I was reading.

Once I had read through them a few times, I tucked them under my chest and pressed into the pillow below me. I flattened myself, pressing deeper, increasing the speed, and switched from the breath meditation to some rather upbeat back music -- which you're welcome to play with (the silent tracks are integration time, much like savasana in many yoga practices, before the last track that beckons you back).

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I began a chant, allowing it to simply roll off my tongue, speaking out loud with each thrust, allowing the words, not the music, to guide my movements and breath.

...

Love is creative

Love is generative

Love is safe

Love is passionate

Love is uplifting

Love is restorative

Love is erotic

Love is evolving

Love is magical

...

I imagined each movement and flow of breath and words as though they were waves, crashing into my soul. The pleasure mounting, swelling in my chest, crashing in my diaphragm, cresting in my belly, and breaking over my genitals -- tides washing through me as I iterated through the words. I noticed that different words brought different somatic responses. "Creative" brought up speed, "safe" invited tears and a tightened throat, "evolving" brought effervescent champagne bubbles in my chest, and "magical" loosened my jaw and sent me into a star cloud. I allowed this organic chant to twist and twirl with the mass of fire and heat as I slid through pleasure, knowing I am loved: my soma alive with this dance of opposites resulting in their inherent wholeness. I felt the heat soothed by the wetness, my waters warmed by my fire.

These are the paths I've learned to sit with, crawl through, walk beside, and run at (in no particular order, on any given day). They are the purposeful wa/onderings I've seen bring so many to a renewed sense of erotic wholeness and alignment. Queer solo sex magick is one of the threads that brought me this work. A question I enjoy asking: How can I make the revolution within, even more desirable? What will draw me/you/us further into love with ourself, knowing how love begets love: a care bear stare bursting from my tan tien. What is possible when we steep in the sex magick of self, embracing solo erotic sovereignty fuelled by intentions of creating and releasing what we wish to see in the world, to ourselves?

Weave your support constellation

Wednesday 6 Dec, 17h30 - 20h30

Montréal (streamed for those registered)

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​Pod mapping​ is getting some wind behind its sails, but too often I hear of it never taking off from the shore. What I've learned by experience over and over, is that the format is too minimalist of a tool for how people are seeking to use it. Many people have told me, "I don't have anyone to ask" or, "everyone said no". This replicates the harm that often brought us to these places, to begin with: not being held within our connections as we face challenges.

I've now been a part of a handful of support pods, have gotten to witness and support others as they navigate these formats of shared care, and brought together my support weave of kith & kin throughout a year-long life transition. I've learned a thing or two and I'm seeking to skill share with others, to see what is possible when we expand upon these creative forms of collective care. My sweet friend goldjian requested that I craft this knowledge into a workshop and I'm fucking excited to dig in with whoever shows up! We'll be streaming it for those who desire digital access, but this isn't built for the online format: I intend to offer a full online class this Winter to those of you not in Montréal.

Supported by Value Collective

Contribution suggested 5-60 $

Dinner will be offered (vegan/gf)

French translation by goldjian

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More Details + Registration

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I've been chatting about pod mapping and weaving support systems so you can find some of those videos on Youtube if you follow me there. This most recent video is about some of the bigger lessons I've learned in this labor of care.

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Erotic Scar Care & Genital Disarmament

trauma care for queer bodies

When I first saw the scar leading into my vulva it took the air out of me. I was sitting on the floor with a mirror between my legs (an assignment for school) and suddenly the whole scene flashed into me, crushing and stomping through my guts, my chest once again frozen in fear.

We may have wanted to play with fisting or anal sex, but our over-exuberance and enthusiasm, or that of our play friends, has left our bodies protective and tense, in disagreement with our desires.

Too many of our bodies have been harmed in ways that now affect our access to eroticism: the self protective holding of genital or anal armament from sexual discomfort or trauma, the connection to psychological heart distress, the literal tension of internal and external scar tissue from our hysto/cesarean/bottom surgeries that was never given post-op care.

Reach out if you're curious about scar care that both invites and embraces the fullness of your queer body and desires. What's possible when you get to bring your full self to this care work? Let's chat!

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Book A Free Exploratory Call

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