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Pride weekend, the epic
Jun. 24th, 2012 09:04 pmThis would have been more digestible as three entries, but I haven't had enough time with a 'pooter since Thursday. So...
Friday night: SEAF. I was delighted to see that the show was much lower on clichés than it's been in recent years.
My favorite piece? "Blush 2", by Stasia Barrington. It's a drawing of two nude women, neither of whose faces are quite visible, with one kissing the other just below the breasts. The artist cut flowers from a red floral cotton print and made the women's legs look tattooed, and at the same time made the figures blend with flowers in the background. Sweet and sublime. That picture had a lot of fans, and I get the impression that most of them are women.
Believe it or not, there were aerialists that I actually really liked. Four, to be exact. With a giant steel spider web. And male ninja counterweights working pulleys in the ceiling. Well done.
I'm hoping the woman with the giant eyes painted all over her body is queer. Ahem.
But what really made the exhibition for me was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ether_maiden, who logs a crazy number of volunteer hours with SEAF every year. She looked scrumptious as she tooled around on her non-motorized scooter and told me things about the pieces that weren't in the cards on the wall. For example, there's a triptych with with a young man in clown costume & makeup in a montage with closeups of genitalia. Standing in front of it, she told me that those genitalia belong to his parents. I freaked out, loudly and at length.
On to Saturday! Had a lovely potluck dinner with some friends from Lambert house and their friends. (Yeah, "lesbian potluck dinner" really is redundant.) I followed them afterward into the dyke march, which was a nice little stroll around Capitol Hill with the occasional bare-breasted woman on a roof or candy-throwing dominatrix.
Then the sardine scene that is Hot Flash on Pride weekend, where I was glad to run into J&J, the couple who adopted me on the night before Pride last year. Flirtations and wiggling on the packed dance floor ensued.
But the highlight of that night was at Electric Tea Garden, where the Shameless crew laid down some mighty fine grooves. As I walked in, a woman of Far Eastern extraction that I recognize through (I think?) Burning Man connections greeted me, and I was embarrassed not to remember her name, as so often happens to me because I'm... memorable. (Foreshadowing!) As I'm dancing, who do I think I see? The gorgeous, petite, and taken femme that I met at the Bang and chatted with briefly. We danced, we talked a lot, she charmed my socks off with the last trace of a Russian accent. At one point she indicated that the DJ is her girlfriend. Yeah, the Chinese Burner. The jokes's on you, Maura. After an hour or so of talking alone outside with Russian Girl, easily the most beautiful woman in the place, I called it a night even though it wasn't yet 1:00. I figured I'd quit while I was ahead.
Quote of the weekend: I was lamenting the apparent straightness of another gorgeous woman who's a regular at ETG. Russian Girl said, with a note of impatience, "They're all straight until they're in bed with me. Then they say, 'Oh no, what did I do?' Figure it out." If anyone could turn straight women gay, it would be Russian Girl.
Which brings me to today. I went to the appointed spot for the Lambert House contingent at the start of the parade route, but found no one in a t-shirt matching mine. I eventually ascertained my group number, and found the ones near it on the number line, but still none of my peeps. I texted the only volunteer whose number I have, and she told me she waaay up the street, maybe two thirds of the way down the route. So I double-time it up the crowded sidewalks all the way to the Seattle Center, the end of the route. No Lambert.
However! I did run into the Young Lady in the Bowler, who by the way was looking tasty in blue sequined underwear, and I got my long overdue apology and a mustachioed kiss. Yeah, I'll give her a second (or is it third?) chance.imp_of_satan, whom I ran into seconds after I took my leave and hadn't seen since before Full Time (!), agrees that the YLB is hot.
On my way back down the route, I ran into the Lambert folks 3/4 of the way down the route. After we all got to the end, I found out that a) the friend I texted wasn't with them, and b) the organizers had squirreled them away underneath I-5 before the start of the parade, somehow managing to communicate that at the last minute to all the Lambert folks except me. I'm sad that I didn't get to see any of my friends along the way, but things worked out pretty well.
Ah, the magic of Pride.
Friday night: SEAF. I was delighted to see that the show was much lower on clichés than it's been in recent years.
My favorite piece? "Blush 2", by Stasia Barrington. It's a drawing of two nude women, neither of whose faces are quite visible, with one kissing the other just below the breasts. The artist cut flowers from a red floral cotton print and made the women's legs look tattooed, and at the same time made the figures blend with flowers in the background. Sweet and sublime. That picture had a lot of fans, and I get the impression that most of them are women.
Believe it or not, there were aerialists that I actually really liked. Four, to be exact. With a giant steel spider web. And male ninja counterweights working pulleys in the ceiling. Well done.
I'm hoping the woman with the giant eyes painted all over her body is queer. Ahem.
But what really made the exhibition for me was
ether_maiden, who logs a crazy number of volunteer hours with SEAF every year. She looked scrumptious as she tooled around on her non-motorized scooter and told me things about the pieces that weren't in the cards on the wall. For example, there's a triptych with with a young man in clown costume & makeup in a montage with closeups of genitalia. Standing in front of it, she told me that those genitalia belong to his parents. I freaked out, loudly and at length.On to Saturday! Had a lovely potluck dinner with some friends from Lambert house and their friends. (Yeah, "lesbian potluck dinner" really is redundant.) I followed them afterward into the dyke march, which was a nice little stroll around Capitol Hill with the occasional bare-breasted woman on a roof or candy-throwing dominatrix.
Then the sardine scene that is Hot Flash on Pride weekend, where I was glad to run into J&J, the couple who adopted me on the night before Pride last year. Flirtations and wiggling on the packed dance floor ensued.
But the highlight of that night was at Electric Tea Garden, where the Shameless crew laid down some mighty fine grooves. As I walked in, a woman of Far Eastern extraction that I recognize through (I think?) Burning Man connections greeted me, and I was embarrassed not to remember her name, as so often happens to me because I'm... memorable. (Foreshadowing!) As I'm dancing, who do I think I see? The gorgeous, petite, and taken femme that I met at the Bang and chatted with briefly. We danced, we talked a lot, she charmed my socks off with the last trace of a Russian accent. At one point she indicated that the DJ is her girlfriend. Yeah, the Chinese Burner. The jokes's on you, Maura. After an hour or so of talking alone outside with Russian Girl, easily the most beautiful woman in the place, I called it a night even though it wasn't yet 1:00. I figured I'd quit while I was ahead.
Quote of the weekend: I was lamenting the apparent straightness of another gorgeous woman who's a regular at ETG. Russian Girl said, with a note of impatience, "They're all straight until they're in bed with me. Then they say, 'Oh no, what did I do?' Figure it out." If anyone could turn straight women gay, it would be Russian Girl.
Which brings me to today. I went to the appointed spot for the Lambert House contingent at the start of the parade route, but found no one in a t-shirt matching mine. I eventually ascertained my group number, and found the ones near it on the number line, but still none of my peeps. I texted the only volunteer whose number I have, and she told me she waaay up the street, maybe two thirds of the way down the route. So I double-time it up the crowded sidewalks all the way to the Seattle Center, the end of the route. No Lambert.
However! I did run into the Young Lady in the Bowler, who by the way was looking tasty in blue sequined underwear, and I got my long overdue apology and a mustachioed kiss. Yeah, I'll give her a second (or is it third?) chance.
imp_of_satan, whom I ran into seconds after I took my leave and hadn't seen since before Full Time (!), agrees that the YLB is hot.On my way back down the route, I ran into the Lambert folks 3/4 of the way down the route. After we all got to the end, I found out that a) the friend I texted wasn't with them, and b) the organizers had squirreled them away underneath I-5 before the start of the parade, somehow managing to communicate that at the last minute to all the Lambert folks except me. I'm sad that I didn't get to see any of my friends along the way, but things worked out pretty well.
Ah, the magic of Pride.
