V's Version

How can they POSSIBLY consider free speech TERRORISM???!!


I don't always adore the tactics of animal rights activists with their red paint blood and their graphic pictures of tortured animals (just as bad as the anti-choice folks with their fetus-in-a-jar) but I DO believe in the their right to disseminate information, for heaven's sake. It seems basic.

and yet - this just in - IFAW says:

Congress is in the midst of passing legislation that would severely hamper the rights of animal welfare advocates to voice their opinions on animal protection issues throughout the country. The Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act (AETA) S. 3880 / H.R. 4239 will set penalties (jail time and fines) for any action that can be linked to a loss of profit to any company classified as an "animal enterprise". An "animal enterprise" would include anyone who produces or distributes animals or products from animals, animal entertainment - including rodeos, circuses, zoos or aquariums, research facilities, pet stores and even animal fighting. This means that legal activities such as peaceful protests, consumer boycotts, media campaigns legislative proposals, or even telling the public what happens in puppy mills, factory farms, or canned hunting facilities, could be classified as acts of terrorism.

This dangerous legislation has already passed the full Senate, and will be considered by the House of Representatives when they reconvene in November. Your voice is needed to help ensure that animal welfare advocates can continue to voice our concerns in a lawful and constitutionally protected way. Please urge your member of Congress to strongly oppose the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act (AETA).

Urge him or her to strongly oppose H.R. 4239. Let your representative know that this legislation seeks to squelch our first amendments rights of freedom of speech.

I may not be the world's biggest animal lover, but I ADORE the US Constitution an cannot stand by while it is slowly eroded. This is ridiculous. I've written my representative. Click here to contact yours.

Ulg - I feel sick.

When I spoke with a friend recently she told me that she was in need of money and that she had been thrown out of her house and that her partner of many years (who had a new lover) no longer could be her caretaker (she's been very ill.) It was so close to my own situation that I could scarcely believe it. There was more drama - more people involved - more legal stuff. But the basics of her story seemed roughly the same: long term relationship -one person gets sick- overworked and tired caretaker - new girlfriend - sick one out.

It hit an obvious nerve.

I have to say that even in my distress for the sick one, I was still able to see the side of the caretaker. I know - and will always appreciate - how much WW did for me. I know intimately how hard it is to be the caretaker of someone so ill. But I also know even more intimately what it is to BE that ill. And how brutal it is to find housing in that condition. And I was told that money was needed - so I put out a call for help. Then I heard from the former caretaker who spoke of abuse and fear.

Ulg. What the hell do I know?

I have urged each person to be kind to the other. I have told the sick one that anger and resentment will eat a body faster than any disease. I have offered compassion for the former caretaker. I have wished upon the sick one that if following in my foosteps seems to be the way to go - may it happen all the way to the end. I would wish the happiness that I have now on anyone. I am grateful (now) for WW's painful decision to break - and can see WW's perspective much more clearly now and with much compassion. Of course, if I hadn't made it as well, things would have been different. But now I am able to see many versions of a story.

I only wish that I had not jumped out into the www so quickly with only one version in my head - that there wasn't still enough lingering pain from my own ordeal to warrent the rush to judgement. I can only hope that in my empathizing, I have not harmed anyone. I wasn't there. I don't know. I wish for everyone peace.

As I worked in Pk's classrooom today (yes, this radical lesbian feminist is both a soccer mom AND a 4th grade classroom helper), I reflected on two things: My reaction to Dani's observation that she has changed her entire single life to fit the schedules of our family life and my burning question of what happens to the children whose parents do not do this?

There I was, in a classroom of 32 children in one of the best arts-oriented public schools in the county, with FOUR other parents on this Monday morning, helping in many ways - with computer work, with sorting and filing the homework, with the dull paperwork and recordkeeping and the essential hugging of children as they passed, with small reading groups and signing up to help at the Harvest Festival...WHAT do the teachers in larger classrooms in larger schools do when there are no parent helpers? I see the children at Pk's school who are falling through the cracks before my very eyes and multiply them by all the children in all the other schools who have parents so absorbed in survival or themselves that they do not have time to put the needs of children first.

The children must talk amongst themselves about this because Pk tells us on a fairly regular basis that he is grateful for the attention that we pay him. He says he realizes that most kids don't get to do all that he does, that many do not get the help he does with his homework (I probably spend more hours on Pk and his education than I do on any other one thing while I am awake.) But what of those children who do not get this attention? When I put it into the context that we live in one of the (if not the) most wealthy societies on the planet - well, it's just overwhelming. If our parents here let the children fall through the cracks - what of the children who have wars going on around them? What of the children who walk 5 miles a day to get water? What of the children who are seen and not heard? What does it say about the future of our planet when children are alienated, neglected and worse from family and community, from personal and global responsibility?

I took Pk to see US vs Lennon last night. I saw it myself last week and decided that it was essential for him to see it. It's not that the documentary itself is so very great - the cinemetography, the obvious Ono bias and the complete lack of some pertinant facts left me with many questions. But the ideology is essential. Non-violent revolution is essential. Gahndi, MLK, Corretta Scott-King, Lennon, Ono - they are on the path I want to walk. I know that I am in the minority of parents who would consider this essential to a child's education. And that I AM in the minority is frightening. Are we doomed to raise a generation of children who will repeat the mistakes of the past? Am I shouting into the wind?

And speaking of shouting into the wind - we did take Pk to the Krissy Keefer (for Congress) fundraiser and I am glad that we did. Todd Chretien (for Senate) helped me to see that what they are doing now (running in the Green Party with an anti-war platform) is just laying the foundation for the abolition of the two party system. Do I connect with Krissy Keefer herself? No. But I respect what she is doing tremendously. And, despite what he claims, I found Todd to be a decent square dancer.

Hello one and all - I just wanted to hop on and post that I an NEARLY finished with the New Orleans quilt which I think I will call "Beyond the Sixth" - I am actually loving this quilt even though it was such an incredible challenge. I learned so much!! I did tons of research into NO history - both mainstream history (jazz, hurricanes, Creole, Po' boy sandwiches, Saints football...) and women's history from early feminist days to the beginning of women's pro basketball to the Lesbian Avenger fire-eating demonstrations at the first dyke march to the closing of Charlene's. I learned so much about pre and post Katrina politics. I am floored and honored to receive such support from local NO organizations like the Common Ground Collective (who espouse Solidarity, Not Charity) and Kid Camera Project and from Charlene herself.

I have free-hand quilted so many designs into the top: musical instruments of jazz and zydeco, wrought iron creations, crawfish and latte bowls, zulu coconuts and second line umbrellas. There are bursts of energy everywhere pushing outward from all angles. Now I have to do the hand work - adding the mardi gras beads and medallions along with some other shiney bits.

I will post the whole kit and caboodle on the website when I am done - I promise.

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Tonight we are off to show up for Krissy Keefer who is running on the Green Party platform against Nancy Pelosi in SF. Politics makes me sad often. Maybe I know too much. But I don't think Krissy Keefer has a shot in hell of even being heard (and I KNOW she has stances that I can solidly get behind)- never mind winning. She is so completely unapproachable in my years of experience with her. I mean I have seen all the UTube videos of her campaigning so I know that she is capable of polite discourse and some amount of humility mixed with understandable outrage. But in just about every personal encounter that I have had with her, I feel like I am nearly invisible to her. And that doesn't bode well for the person who will speak for me in the house of representatives.

Basically, I think a person has to be rich or crazy or power hungry (or some combination of all) to get into politics these days. I find it soooooo hard to believe in anyone. And I am a life-long voter. I am actively listening and I BELIEVE that the Constitution is a brilliant and noble document that is under siege. I have faith that democracy is a good - no- a GREAT idea. I'm just losing faith that the people running for government positions have a shot at embodying the idea. Don't get me wrong - I will vote. And if I were living in SF I would probably even vote for Krissy Keefer, even though she is one of the worst politicians that I have personally met. I am not so jaded as to get out of the process. I'm still in it. But my enthusiasm is waning...

Maybe I will get fired up by tonight's event....

Did I mention that this New Orleans quilt is kicking my butt? 'Tis. But I am finally (well mostly) finished with the top. It's crazy. I wish I could show you but my photo uploading is messed up. So sorry.

Can I describe it? My idea was to take the visual energy from the Mardi Gras Indian costumes as the central theme and to incorporate the shotgun houses, the life-death-life cycle of the magnolia and jazz music itself. I could never hope to imitate the costumes themselves (costing in the 10s of thousands of dollars and up to a year to make) but I liked the medallion idea. So in the very center is a Mardi Gras coin from 1968 that says Amor (from my own collection). It sits upon a 3 inch dark purple velvet circular saw blade (hooray for re-building!) From there, it is all about the outward movement of energy. There is chaos, there is movement, fire and water and herstory and symetry in a diliberately off-beat way. There are rough edges and shredded cloth that is sewn back together like confetti. Easily, I can say that I have never worked harder on an art project mentally. I have spent years on some but the work was easy - just tediously time-consuming.

But not with this one. This one held demons. This one tortured me in sleepless nights. This one holds chaos and uncertainty - like New Orleans itself. I hope, through the harmony that there is and through the bright colors and outward movement, the piece shows the optomism and vision that Syd wanted me to portay for a New New Orleans. But I have to say that I am not Pollyanna. I felt pain and frustration along with the celebretory and phoenix-rising-from-the- flames qualities of the city.

The top is finished.

Now it is on to the hand work (beads, etc.) and the quilting. Yup - it sure is kicking my butt and I sure do appreciate the challenge.

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In other news - Lisa Vogel's 50th birthday party was sooooooo much fun!! Oh my gosh - glam glam glamour! People were so beautiful - radiant faces and glowing smiles. There were loads of fun fashions and who knew we had so much energy to dance dance dance?! Julie Wolf, Vickie Randall and Barbara Higbie changed the lyrics to songs to incorporate Lisa and jammed the night away on their key boards. And the FOOD. Oh my DELISCIOUS HEAVEN. It was amazing. LV leaned over and whispered to me, "Well - when there is no alcohol - we get to focus on the food!" and so they did - thai fish wrapped in banana leaves, grapes covered in blue cheese and pistachio nuts, polentas and peanut sauces, assorted imported cheeses and crackers, espresso cream chocolate cake....but there were so many familiar faces that I hardly had time to eat. I kept flitting to the candlelit table (we sat next to members of the Dance Brigade) and then jumping up to hug hello and catch up with beloved friends from festival. It was a surprise to see so many out of town faces: Susan and Gretchen and Ann and Elizabeth and Caroline and Edie and Chloe and Elvira and Nate and Sandy and Barrie and Suetree and Nora and Pat and Deb and Linda and Animal and Chris and Jackie. Others too, of course, but there were so many faces along with the all of us local gals...

It was great to see so many people so happy and relaxed. Especially Lisa. She was genuinely beaming - trying not to levitate from happiness, I think. It must have been humbling to see all the love poured out for her. Not for her production, but for her. There were many tears and words of gratitude and lots of laughter too. It was an honor and a joy to be amoung our tribe in such a fancy setting. Lia (and Terri Lynn and Chewey and Erin and Edie and ....) did a great job. Everything was elegant and charming and full of love.

Leukemia and Lymphoma Society Marathon

My former housemate, Aaron, suggested to his friend, Kate Platonova (who will be running a marathon for the first time) that she run in my honor. She said that she would. Wow. Then she asked me to write a paragraph about my sitch. Click on the link above to learn more.


My name is V Kingsley and I am honored that you are running a marathon to raise money for and awareness of leukemia and lymphoma. I have both lymphoma and a skin-blistering allergic reaction to it called paraneoplastic pemphigus (PNP). Research and treatment (both alternative and western) are critical in the fight to stay alive. Although I am legally blind because of the diseases, I can now see with prosthetics from the Boston Foundation for Sight and although the medical bills for chemotherapy and infusions of gamma globulin (IVIG) are astronomical, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society helps me to chip away at them.

I believe that I am the only known person with non-operable lymphoma to have survived PNP more than two years. It is normally a death sentence. After nearly four years of battling these diseases, at the age of 40, I appear recently to be in remission of both. My gratitude is palpable, motivating every aspect of my life: relationships, parenting, spirituality, artwork. There is NO WAY that I would be alive without the help of many individuals and organizations. The road to remission is paved with many steps and I do not walk this road alone.

To read of my story, please visit my website: www.alotoflife.com


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What is it about working so late that I can hardly put two thoughts together that feels so damn good? It's like cramming for finals in college or late night sex that finds more passion than I thought possible at the end of a long day. I am left spent and momentarily satisfied, knowing that I'm alive and that morning will greet me with more.

The quilt is (finally!) starting to look like jazz. Whew. I was worried. But, at this point, I should trust the process and know that it will all come together. It's HARD to make cloth look like music but it's getting there. Movement, color, mood, nuance, meaning, unexpected lines. I am pleased and can easily say that this is the hardest work I have done. It makes sense, given the subject. So many times, I get frustrated and then allow my situation to pale in comparison to the frustration of the people to whom I pay tribute. It keeps me humble and grateful.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you for my life."

I went to bed last night, in fact, with the feverent mantra of: "Thank you, thank you, thank you for my life."

Even as I said those words, I thought of how, while I enjoy the metephorical images of gods and goddesses, I am probably, at my core, a believer of love and energy, nothing or no one anthropomorphic. So when I hear myself saying, with all the gratitude in my heart: "thank you," I wonder who "you" is? And the answer I come up with is life itself. And why thank life for life? In the wee hours before sleep last night, this is the answer that hugged me as much as my fluffy velvet covered down comforter: gratitude fuels love, gives energy and enhances life.

How's this for coincidence?

The very first stitch on the white satin of my wedding dress broke the sewing machine that Whitewolf and I purchased just before I got sick in 2002. Granted, it was my fault. I forgot to change the quilting foot that I was using on the New Orleans quilt before I started sewing the red leather (!) onto the wedding gown. The needle jammed and broke, severely messing up something inside the machine. I was stunned and kicking myself. I have had to put off quilting for a long time - Pk had pneumonia, we hosted Dani's mother for the weekend, there are soccer games, we had houseguests, I had to get the "cottage" ready (which is actually a bare cement floor shed but I have tried to make it nice with homey touches..) to house a young dyke (Dandypants) and her cat (Mr. Paws) while they search for work and housing in SF.

I was justifiably frustrated to put off my work for even a minute more but knew that the dress wouldn't take that long and I was very excited to be tricking it out... so when the machine broke and I realized that it could be weeks before it was fixed and that I had to come up with another solution, I was more deeply sad than made sense for the situation- until I realized the symbolism of it all.

A new life. Another reminder that the past is behind me. A little more grief to let go of so that a little more happiness can seep in.

After many tears, an emptying of my savings account and some creative financing, I am back to my whirring self.

Now if my manchine could only help me with color theory....

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The above picture was taken by Mark Chester at the Folsom Street Fair, who has been documenting freaks since the 80s. The fair was way crazy fun. Dani and I especially appreciated the women-only space provided by the Exiles. It was great to get away from the crowds into a safe place full of friendly welcoming women.

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I wish that I could write about all the things going on - planning the pagan /Buddhist committment ceremony for 4, setting up the legal works to allow Dani to adopt Pk (which looks very positive for everyone involved), soccer and sportsmanship in the face of defeat, the patience of being the hostess of somone who is vehemently negative about a good friend, the experience of teaching in Pk's class, the difficult and potentially rewarding challenge of learning non-violent communication, what it was like to see the Gee's Bend quilts at the de Young museum, going back to the chemo clinic for some port flushing and sexual harassment, good (long overdue) conversations with friends, the progress on my book and what about my festival adventures?.....I am living life so fully that I can not stop to write about it.

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