20 September 2005
Back to civilization? Dark Odyssey pt 1

I am back in the world of computers and clothing, traffic and tedium… but I’m not sure I can call it civilization compared to where I have been.

I have given the folks at Kink in the Caribbean one more day to get me a contract and/or details of expectations- 6 1/2 weeks to the event and they still haven’t done it- this is unacceptable. I am trying to remind myself that the universe does have a habit of speaking to me, and this is another case where I am trying to listen- that maybe if this doesn’t come through… I should be there for someone who may not want me there but I feel moved to be available for.

Last night’s shoot was good, and DungeonDiva and I barely got my Furry One to the airport in time for his flight before winging our way to Kensington for time with Moraxian and Sasha. PVC and tape gags, hzah.

I am moved.

This week, on top of teaching 3 classes, I taught one private tutorial that left me remembering how good it feels to affect people’s lives with my teaching.

This week, Barbara Carrellas proclaimed me the “Breath Queen”, and I found again a slice of why and when I like tantric energy working… as an organic part of my being and extension of my soul rather than forcing it into a body binary mold to run the work of the world. She is an amazing woman, and I look forward to seeing her again (as does Furry)- she is one of the amazing souls. Hooray Street Tantra!

This week, I becme Neti. I was ill (still am), body arguing against my interests, and when we went to hang Inanna in the run-through, I had a bit of a collapse. Neptune, bless his healing soul, helped me brainstorm ideas and get sugars into my system… the result? We rocked Raven’s world by helping his vision come true, we inspired people, Erishkigal was present, and Innana had less of a physical journey and more of the psychic one that was needed.


The Descent of Innana is a Sumerian tale of the Goddess of Heaven going down into the Underworld, being stripped of her huberis and all worldlyness, left to hang dead for three days… then return to the world through the aid of her best friend asking a few helpful and not so helpful gods for assistance.. When she comes back to the world she finds that her husband Denuzi has taken her throne, and she send him (and his sister) to the Underworld in her place.

Ritual Theatre is about many things- tale telling, inspiration, oral tradition… but in energetic terms it is often times a way to let the gods dance in our shoes- let my mind take a back seat to the will of the role I am playing. So, though I could barely breathe and was constantly coughing- as I slipped in my white contacts, I slid back. As I painted my face, I slid back. As I shaved my head, I slid back. As I slipped on and folded my skirts and tightened my wrap, I slid back. As I cinched in my corset, I slid back. My body morphed, changed. I growled, I walked less and stalked more. My shoulders hunched up and sprang to life. I shook the earth with my pounding feet. I became Neti.

Neti is the gatekeeper to the underworld, Erishkigal’s right hand. He is the intellectual answer to “what keeps the monsters at bay”. He keeps life and death separated by a veil that can be lifted by will alone. He is passionate, devious, angry, and cold as stone. He shakes the earth with his pounding feet.

Each stroke against Innana was real. Each time we the Annanaki hit her face to the words “Quiet Innana!” it was real. Her bondage was real. Erishkigal felt her pains. Denizi was truly beaten and carried away… We danced in the footsteps of gods… and it took a while for many of us to come back.

Raven Kaldera had wanted to do this ritual for years. Thank you Raven, and to your boy Joshua, for helping us make your vision come true.

I wanted to thank Raven and Joshua on a thousand levels… but the words haven’t come yet. For their transperency. For body honesty. For reminding me of paths. For dancing. For pain. For pushing through pain. For jokes of domming from wheelchairs. For Publishing woes. For living. For wearing skirts. For breathing in. For both being damn fucking woof! For so much more… I’ll find the words eventually.

More soon…