Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

I took my son out for Thai food on Capitol Hill* followed by an art show, "Light And Shadow" at Passable**, the art workspace-cum-gallery a couple of doors down from the Mercury.

How was the art? Clever and blinky; my strobe-sensitive Evil Sister might not have been able to handle it. Some of it I wouldn't have minded having in my house.

I also got to show my son a little bit of the neighborhood that's been like a second home to me for, well, ever since I moved to Seattle, especially this century. He had disparaging things to say about the CHOP as we crossed Cal Anderson Park. He'd latched onto the lone violent incident that happend at CHOP, and not the decades' worth of police brutality that led to the CHOP's creation in the first place. Tell me you have anxiety disorder without telling me you have anxiety disorder, my son.

He declined to see any of the rest of the Capitol Hill art walk, in which Passable was participating. That's just as well because I was distinctly underdressed for the weather. I'm so looking forward to the end of winter in a week.



*Bai Tong. Better than I remember, but then again I wasn't there with two dozen other people in latex melting down the kitchen.
**Yeah, the folks who run Passable are well aware that trans women may read more into that name than most other people. But it's a perfectly nice low-budget art space, and for that alone I give them a... pass.

T and I took two buses each way for the long trip to Equinox Studios. Yes, it's the same place I went with Dancer last month, but this time there were food trucks and bands.

Why something special ("Very Open House") in December? I've just answered my own question: many of the artists were selling at least a few Christmas-themed goodies. I wasn't there for holiday shopping, though; I was mainly there to hang out with T.

Speaking of T, she seems to be doing pretty well with dating. That's because she's working the apps but, as I told her on the southbound 132, every time I think about going back to the apps I also think, 'Do I have to?' She agrees that maybe now is not the time for me to do that.

But! T & I had a good time. We battled the crowds through the twisty maze that is Equinox to explore as thoroughly as we could manage. There were several times when I wished I had budget to buy and space to display things I saw there; I did collect a couple of business cards. There were eats from food trucks. And I believe that was the Chaotic Noise marching band that we heard, and they don't suck. Neither did any of the other bands I heard.

The weather, however, did suck at times. It's Seattle in December; waddaya want? Luckily, I was ready with The Coat, which garnered all the compliments, and my beat-up umbrella.

I had wanted to go to the Mercury afterward to see some rarely-appearing old friends, but by the time we got back to my house on the bus and I finished with on-call nonsense, it was 2245. I stayed home with my FOMO.

But! Yes, Equinox! Highly recommended for a friend date or a date date.

I feel as if I've had an unusually virtuous weekend what with all the mass transit and not much alcohol. I hereby resolve to be a party nun for the rest of the month. And boy howdy, will there be opportunities for that:

1. The latex gang is going out for drinks on both the 19th and the 26th.
2. A date with Dancer on the 20th.
3. I have a ticket to the mini-Cascadia festival right here in my neighborhood on the 21st.
4. There's also a fetish event the 21st, but I had to skip it.
5. B invited me to the Blue Moon on Christmas Eve. I may have to go just out of curiosity.
6. The night of the 25th is always off the hook at the Mercury.
7. I have... plans on the 28th. Ahem.
8. The Wildrose's 40th anniversary is the 30th.
9. The Tickler is coming up to go to the Keith Haring show with me on the 31st, followed by New Year's Eve at the Monkey Loft.
10. The annual gathering on New Year's Day at chez C.
11. The women's munch at the Wildrose is on the 2nd.

Madness!

Brunch at S/T Hooligan's with minim_calibre. That's a lot of terrific food. I got out-femmed, but from her, I don't mind.

More or less right after brunch, I did another art thing: the STÖR show at Base Camp 2 with Tacoma Girl. It's exactly what the title suggests: a spoof of IKEA. I don't think I've ever laughed that much at an art exhibit.

Tacoma Girl likes H-Mart, the Korean supermarket. A lot. There's a big one close to Pike Place, in a basement. Yes, I bought stuff I don't need, but I mostly stuck to stuff I'll need eventually, like sesame oil.

I finished all my usual Sunday chores and then crashed at 2130. I slept OK, and then I woke up with... gastrointestinal issues. I called in sick, did not drink any caffeine, and slept for three more hours. Which brings me to right now.

These photos are all things that made me think, 'WAT?!'



Here is how good the tram service was even in the wee hours of the morning after Ladytron let out.



The best thing in the vendor hall for my money was this spider chair by Lucas Haupt.



It was election season in Germany. The lower sign says, "More security and order." Ptui!



I saw precious little evidence that Leipzig was in East Germany, but I did find this ghost sign on top of a building.



Auerbachs Keller, a rather nice and very traditional German "dining cellar". It's best to go with a group.

Latex dinner last night at Bai Tong. Much chat. Lovely sweet young things and even sweet not-so-young things in their shinery finery, talking about the upcoming Seattle Erotic Art Festival, shiny clothing, and many other things. I ate a carb-free dinner like a gay boy because hey, I'd made & eaten cornbread earlier.

On the way home I took a one-block detour past the Mercury, which wasn't quiiiite open at the time. A few doors up from them, though, is something called Passable. I'd seen the sign before, made to look like the NASA "worm" logo from the '70s. Naturally, that choice of name long ago made me narrow my eyes: that word means something a bit sinister* to trans people, and anyone who'd rent a space on Capitol Hill surely knows that. But even the logo sign alone suggested that it was a bunch of freaky bohemians so I didn't pay too much attention.

But when I passed by last night, there was a sandwich board announcing an art walk. The door was ajar, and there were freaky bohemians inside with a mess o' art! Being an art nun is in my very username, so I had to go in.

I recognized one artist's name: Shelly Farnham! She's a Burning Man buddy from waaaay back; I camped with her and the rest of the Space Virgins in '07. I used to take the Wendling to Dorkbot meetings (motto: people doing weird things with electricity) down in South Lake Union before Amazon took it over completely.

Shelly's piece, "Pain Doll", was about how she nearly died from an infection; she'd saved all the syringes of antibiotics and arranged them around an LED figure of a woman. Noice! There was also a figure of a ballerina in black tape held upright by a vise on her foot, and the remains of "Cranes for 'Kraine".

So Passable is the collective that she founded! She invited me to join. It broke my heart to tell Shelly and her colleagues that I'm not an artist, but I totally put myself on their mailing list and chipped in some cash.

Oh yeah: another Burner campmate from back then, Levi Clark, also had at least one piece there. He's also a house DJ about town.

So yeah, I had a way better than average night out last night. That kind of thing, folks, is why I live in a big city. Happiness.



*And why would "passable" be sinister? It's a reminder of the violence and harrassment many trans people face if we don't or can't assimilate.

I've been wanting to check out the new Base Camp 2 art space, where the long gone but prominent Bergman Luggage used to be. So I made arrangements to meet Tacoma Girl there. The trouble was, the web site gave me conflicting information: TG found a crew in there getting the place ready for their next show in March.

So we got a beer apiece at the Black Cat on 1st Ave, sat outdoors in our coats, and watched the bros and broettes walk by. But then Tacoma Girl had the idea of going to Fremont, and I said I knew just the place: Triangle Spirits.

I hadn't been there since before the pandemic. It doesn't seem to have changed much: the cocktails are still pretty great if not cheap. I had boozy egg nog that was to die for. Much chat was had as we swapped book recommendations, etc.

Oh: she's going to need a cat sitter next month because she'll be traveling with her mother, in case anybody has any recommendations.

But speaking of Fremont, I finally stopped in at the Lazy Cow Bakery on my way back from grocery shopping. They're full-on commies. Leftist orgs regularly meet there. They have a free food/comida gratis shelf. They have a Palestinian flag on one wall. Their baked goods are of course vegan, and I subjected them to an unfair test: I bought a day-old berry muffin. You know what? It was pretty good! I raise my fist in salute to the commie bakers & baristas of Lazy Cow.

I went to the Georgetown Carnival on Saturday afternoon, which happened for the first time in four years. I watched the power tool races over the shoulders of others. I saw and lusted after SIGIL jewelry. I was about to say "and its lovely proprietress A", but believe it or not, I don't lust after A. She's straight, and my libido has no taste.

Saw a giant spider sculpture as tall as a person as I turned a corner. I have friends who would... not like that. I ran into Empress, who just got a job running the arts promotion org for Georgetown. Her resumé is perfect for the job, being a working artist herself who at least used to be part of a collective there. (Iron Monkeys, n'est ce pas?) Anyway, I couldn't help observing how my neighborhood, Fremont, thirty or forty years ago was an awful lot like Georgetown today: a place where artists work and have fun. I told her that if the tech industry shows up, commit arson. She points out that Georgetown has arsenic in the soil, which may act as techie repellent. It's also got relative inaccessibility, proximity to an airport and therefore with jet noise, and a punk rock vibe going for it. Good luck, Georgetown.

Went home, packed my messenger bag, and got on a bus to Tacoma for a date with the Tickler. There were eetz on the waterfront at one of the restaurants that seems to cater to the older crowd. We closed the joint, and it wasn't that late. Went back to their place. As ever, I crashed. But! We had a lovely morning with their kitties. They picked greens from their garden and made salad to go with the eggs & toast for brunch. I, uh, brought my heaviest toy and the Tickler got an unusual morning workout with it. Ahem. Once again, the Tickler's soft bed has messed up my back; my hard bed messes up theirs. Le sigh.

Oh: the Sound Transit buses didn't run at all yesterday. I was under the impression that they did. I ended up taking Amtrak to Seattle for $28. Ah well, it still beats a ride share. But mayunn, if you want people to not drive, you need to provide services for the non-drivers on Sundays.

I've spent the last three weekends on trains and buses. I'm looking forward to not leaving Seattle for a few weeks, not least because the weather has turned perfect.

I had to miss last year's Seattle Erotic Art Festival because I had COVID. Well, that wasn't the case this year, so the Tickler and I – they dressed as a sexy angel, with yours truly as the Devil Girl – did the thing.

And a grand thing it was! We got there a little later than planned due to my on-call hell and the difficulty of getting into my outfit*. It was a massive social occasion, with Mistress K, and a lesbian Burner coulpe who had had moved away. (Did they move back? I've lost track.) Grad school classmates! Burner pals! Latex peeps! People I met at art happenings! It was the set union of the crowds from art happenings, the kink scene, Burning Man, and then some. But now that I think about it the intersection and the union of those sets aren't all that different.

You know me: I love a nuclear social reaction. But the Tickler, who's been much more cautious than I have about COVID, was a little overwhelmed. "So many hot people," they kept saying. They of course were right, which is a major attraction of SEAF.

The only Devil Girl I saw was a piece in Trans Pride colors depicting a lesbian kiss. But at $777, it didn't yell at me to buy it.
I think the piece I liked best this year was The Unbearable Tightness of Being, a close up photo of a woman really enjoying being tied up. The emotional aspects of sex and kink are what I like to see in art. The piece was in my opinion underpriced and got snapped right up.
Runner up was a couple of works by Echo Chernik. Think art nouveau meets Frank Frazetta. A little cheesy, but beautifully executed. I may, just may, talk myself into buying a print.

But otherwise I exercised admirable (?) restraint in not buying any art. Honestly, nothing this year really grabbed me by the black, crystal-beaded choker and shouted, "Buy me!"

I got to fondle the marble sculptures of CJ, a certain fellow Burner who I met just over twenty years ago. Yeah, molesting sculptures is encouraged at SEAF. I met a shaven-headed man who'd just bought the piece I'd had my hands on, which I believe is her latest.

My Fluevog Grand Nationals did me in after nearly three hours of standing, and the Tickler hasn't rebuilt their party stamina. We skipped the latex afterparty an Neighbours, went back to chez moi, and crashed.

Like a good Devil Girl I led the Tickler into temptation at the Fremont Sunday Market. They found stuff that wasn't too frivolous: dresses and a jacket very much like one I've seen on Kurt Cobain. Brunch was at Made In House, which has kind of become our place. Pro tip. Go there at the tail end of lunch rush. The rest of today has been trying to catch up with my usual weekend doings.



*I forgot the first rule of being a goth girl: boots first, then corset.

I tried to join an online Esperanto meetup that almost immediately got Zoom bombed. I learned two things about the Seattle Esperanto Society: at least half the group is substantially older than I am, with the few remaining substantially younger; and their level of Esperanto knowledge is of course much higher than mine. Yeah, I'll study more because I like doing that, and try again. I think it may be up to me to make this group freakier.

I went to an art opening for the first time in a while: the Love City Love folks did a "soft opening" for a space that's new to them at 1422 Seneca. I... wish they'd had more art, but I suppose that'll come. My favorite piece: the coffee table made from a car windshield. There were propane tanks hanging from the ceiling with lots of holes in them. Given the general Burner vibe, I really hope those were empty before they got perforated. Free eats & drinks, and pretty decent DJs.

Love City Love, according to a funkily-dressed older lady who's apparently part of it, has had at least ten (!) different spaces around Seattle. I asked about the 1402 E Pike space – the former Electric Tea Garden – in which they did an amazing remodel, and she told me that was ten years ago. Aw, mayunn, now I'm dust. I Venmo'd them a little cash, and then spent the next half hour on the phone with my credit union's fraud detection people because Venmo is in New York City. Le sigh.

Warmed my bones at the Wildrose and chatted briefly with Martha. Got Persian Rose ice cream at Sweet Alchemy. Walked past Northwest Film Forum and the cop shop to the old CHAC space. Dammit, that basement is going to waste these days.

Went to the Merc, where hardly any of the usual suspects showed up. Good for the Merc, I suppose, because there were plenty of other suspects. Who, me? Enjoy watching scantily-clad furry girls my son's age? Ahem.

I ran into Temptress! We made a coffee date for my neighborhood even though she's no longer dating a dude who lives here. It's not a date date – or at least I don't think it is. I don't really want it to be, to be honest. Temptress already has a small stable of trans girlfriends, one of whom I met. And yes, they're girlfriend girlfriends.

I had no plans last night and I didn't want to spend a lot of money. So I did my default weekend evening thing: go to Capitol Hill.

What I learned on the way there was that blocking the train doors can jam them, at least on the older Japanese trains*. That delayed my train by ten minutes. I've never deliberately blocked a train door, but I've had it done on my behalf by a kind stranger in a hijab once.

Had a beer at the Wildrose and said hi to Martha, the cute owner & bartender. I would have chatted, but it was starting to get busy. I could have sworn it wasn't as busy at that hour two or three months ago; maybe it's the darkness that summons people.

Around the corner for cardamom pistachio "Persian rose" ice cream at Sweet Alchemy. Aw, yeah. Since they're not right on the street – 11th Ave. – they don't get nearly the foot traffic they deserve, much less than far less deserving ice cream joints nearby**. TANJ.

Walked up to Vermillion, the art gallery-cum-bar-and-maybe-performance-space on 11th. I peeked in the window. The lady at the door waved me in. There I saw some arrestingly realistic paintings by Keven [sic] Furiya. And his choice of subject matter was random small streets, buildings, loading docks, etc. around Seattle and maybe nearby cities. Some of the paintings were of SoDo, an area south of downtown for people who need space – light industry, wholesalers, construction- and auto-related businesses, and lately, some artists' workshops and night life that might have been on Capitol Hill or in Pioneer Square thirty years ago.

On the back wall of Vermillion was a painting of a building in SoDo where I know I've been. It's a workspace for artists and craftspeople (Foreshadowing!) that's also played host to Burner parties, a couple of which I've been to. It's right next to freight train tracks, so naturally I've stood out front in my playa finery and waved to trains rolling by around midnight. The crew waved back.

And who was there but K apparently on a queer date? She*** told me that she works in the building in the painting****, and as I stood there she bought the painting. Its price tag was in the low four figures. "I can't afford this," she said. I told her I could relate, thanks to the Devil Girl outfit.

There was some kind of live hip hop going on in the small space behind the art, and there was a crowd with its fair share of sweet young things dressed for a night out. The hip hop fans kept having to walk through the sparser crowd of people like K & me engrossed in the art.

Edited to add: on the bus from the train station back to Fremont, I ran into a lady I've been trying to date. We chatted while waiting for and on the bus. And I'm convinced that I talk way too much and too fast when I'm starved for human contact.

I think all this is Goddess's way of telling me to get out of my house and do stuff. Luckily, that's my natural inclination anyway.



*Seattle has light rail trains made by two manufacturers, Kinkisharyo of Japan and Siemens of Germany. The latter are newer; more squarish on the outside; have a two-tone bell sound; have bigger, multi-colored door blinkies instead of smaller yellow ones; have fewer interior seats; have monitor-like information displays on the inside instead of yellow LED arrays; and have a colored LED array on the front to indicate which line it is. (Seattle only has one operational line so far.) Oh: the boxes above the doors on the Japanese trains stick out more, which means I've hit my head on them while standing up from a seat there. Goddamn short people making trains.
**Salt & Straw, which has the perfect corner space at Pike & Boylston, always has an unreasonably long line and just isn't worth it if you ask me. Frankie & Jo's, right across from the Mercury, is right on and is also vegan if you're into that; they're usually busy but not absurdly so. Molly Moon's on Pine? The ice cream is pretty good, but I hear bad things about their labor practices.
***They? I'm not sure. She used to be high femme, but not so much anymore. She once wore a vinyl catsuit that she made to the Seattle Erotic Art Festival – when she was about six months pregnant. It fit perfectly. I get the impression that she's more... colorful than even I know. Another rad chick (?) out of Alaska, and I know several.
****It took me several hours to remember that she makes BDSM gear.