music = heart time travel

im sitting in a coffee shop in new hampshire, and a song starts playing by willy porter, a favorite of an ex-lover of mine, who, six years ago, made me a mix cd of willy's stuff by way of introduction to his music and my lover's heart and mind at the time. i was in love with this person, and they were from new hampshire, a place i'd never been in 2004, so my feelings back then about both the music and the place i am experiencing right now were very fond, bordering on overly fond. now, here i am, six years and thousands of miles later, having totally forgotten willy porter and his--and my lover's--affect on me, being riveted by this music unheard for years, my heart breaking open for my love at 25, realizing i'm exactly where my ex would want to be--new hampshire is their home--a place as foreign to me as any other area of new england. but for right now, this moment, its exactly where i should be, remembering i have a past here and now where music, place, and love transcend time enough to make me reach out to someone i haven't had a conversation with in years. someone in whose eyes i used to see my future. someone who is part of my past, but also a part of my heart, which, with its constant rhythm, ever keeps me and those i love in the present.

so i text my ex to say it:

i miss you, k.i.p.

gender gender everywhere...

clarification has been requested from a couple corners so i thought id publish my answers.
the first email is from a dear friend from oak park whose family i am friends with as well. shes a hetero who is a queer ally (no names, since i havent asked permission) her email and my response were as follows...

[she to me]:

subject: cou RAGE

Ray,
That monologue is beautiful.
And I feel like a bit of a tool. How did we miss having this conversation? Obviously, I was aware of the masculine clothes, facial hair, etc. But I haven't been sure about pronouns, and I feel kinda stupid for not asking.
But thank you for writing it out & posting, because now I know (mostly) how you feel, rather than imagining/assuming.
So, I should introduce you/refer to you as "him/he," right? Firmly left of machismo slugger, but on the masculine side of things, yes?
Obviously, we'll discuss more when you're here, if you want. Do you want me to tell the fam, too?

Love you, gorgeous.

[name]

[me to she]:

re: cou RAGE

thanks so much for this email, [name].

the thing is, i enjoy masculine pronouns, but only if they feel right for the person using them. if it feels right to use 'he' for me, then do it. if it doesnt, dont.
cuz like i said in the piece, its half about others interpretation, and its changeable depending on a lot of things.

its hard to tell others what to do cuz i get to use 'i' for myself, and dont ever have to choose the right pronoun, which is helpful, cuz i would have a hard time choosing day to day. hour to hour, sometimes. if only the language had a spectrum in its pocket....

cuz like i said, its only ever a coin flip around here. in seattle i didnt have this trouble cuz people saw what they saw and used 'they' or 'ze' if they thought necessary, and upon meeting would ask pronoun preference. to which i would reply, whatever works. a lot of seattle kids use 'they' for me. luka used to never use a pronoun and would just say my name a lot.

i will say this: for about the past 8 months i have felt more on the masculine side of things, and have been more consistently read as such. so, 'they' or 'he' seem to be more appropriate these days. but really, use whatever you feel makes sense.

i will be happy to talk more about his when i see you.
and dont worry about the fam, ive been around them in the past 8 months and have at least broached the subject of masculinity with [your mom]...and hit on it tangentially with [your dad]. however, if you use 'he' for me to them, id love to hear the reaction. ;)

thanks again for writing me, i love you.
--ray

the second interchange just happened today on facebook with a queer/genderqueer friend who lives in seattle. ze (for convenience sake, since i havent asked about their pronouns) and i corresponded thusly...

[ze to me]:

subject: inquiry!

Hello Ray,

I read your blog post today and I want to ask the clear question before I make.. or continue to make a fool of myself.

Do you have a general preference when it comes to pronouns or how you are regarded?

For my perception of you, I tend to bypass gender and simply think of you as beautiful (which to me is not gender-specific though it seems to often be perceived as such) and I think of you as Ray. If I used pronouns, generally they were/are neutral.

I adore you terribly and wish to do as you like.

*hugs*

[~name~]

[me to ze]:

re: inquiry!

dearest [name] (whose number in my phone is now appended with two names)

you are marvellous to ask for a pronoun update/correction.

i find, in traveling, that there are few chances and/or reasons to be ambiguously gendered with the general populace and at this point, presenting in a more or less masculine form, i get referred to more often (without thought for consent) as 'he'.

which i kind of like, cuz it means im being seen nearest to how i want to be seen. but for those people who are close enough to me and who are gender-spectrum-aware enough, i am happy to be either neutrally referenced or gender-referenced in an alternating fashion (using whichever applies, or makes most sense at the time, to whomever is using it)

that said, i find consistent or even frequent use of 'she' to get on my nerves. thats the only thing i know for sure. anything else is fine, and as the gendered personal pronoun choice is up to the speaker and never to me (since i get to use 'i' for myself) i leave the rest to you. (and in this case, i say 'you' with the utmost of neutrality and/or genderqueerness possible ;)

in short, you have made no mistake in your usage as of yet, and most probably will never say something that will actually offend me.

and this is (one of the many reasons) why i am most affectionately yours,

ray van fox

today, its my shirt.

i just performed this monologue at a benefit show for my dear friend ethan's top surgery. there were tons of queer and trans people in the audience, so i was preaching to the choir, and getting a room full of people to laugh and sigh with me was really amazing. thanks, darling, for the opportunity to share the stage with so many amazing people and to speak this truth for me right now:

I met an artist at pride in san francisco who wanted to take my picture and ask me the question, 'what makes you a man?'
my answer was : 'today, its my shirt.'
there are two important points this answer makes: one, that manhood is something I deal with daily, and two, that its something that can be put on and taken off, like a costume. This statement implies that tomorrow, depending on what im wearing, I might not be a man. How exactly does that work, you ask?
Well, the thing is, I could have easily answered: 'what makes me a man is the fact that you think I am one.'
these responses sound like pretty tenuous ties to an identity, provisional and only partly under my control. Which is mostly true, cuz I gotta tell you, my identity is only partly what i perceive of myself. Its also partly what others perceive me to be. The challenge for those along the transgender spectrum is the disparity between those two perceptions.
Now, I like a challenge, and traveling around all the time, I bump up against all different manifestations of this challenge in cities all around the country.
And some days its gratifying, like last week in san jose, when I got a craigslist ride from a woman who referred to me as 'he' to the other female passengers. when they all started talking about how I should attach an iphone to the stereo, the word 'he' was used 12 times in a minute. I actually got a little dizzy. By the time we got to LA I was still 'he' to my driving friend. And of all the things we talked about in the 8 hour trip, gender wasnt one of them.
And some days its disappointing, like when I see a cute guy behind the ice cream counter in LA and want to flirt with him, get him to smile at me with those pretty eyes, but when he looks my way, he addresses me with the disinterested efficiency of one man at the service of another in a totally hetero, single entendre sort of way. And I play along, cuz Im flattered at being given the opportunity for this kind of interaction. But missing out on that smile makes it not quite worth it.
And some days its disconcerting, like when I was sitting in the observation car of a train headed thru utah and the men sitting near me made some comments about a woman walking by. It wasnt as much what they said, it was how they said it, and with a wink to me, like I was in on the joke. It was my first time really seeing what men are like when no women are around. It made me feel a weird mixture of flattered, intrigued, and a bit sick.
and some days its ridiculous, like when im drinking beers at a white sox game with two of my guy friends from high school, both of whom i hooked up with years ago, and I say, 'hey, guys, I appreciate you being cool about the pronoun thing.' and greg says, 'oh, yeah, we were talking about you yesterday, and andy says to me, 'so, since youve made out with him, does that make you, like, 1/8th gay?'' and I say, ' 1/8th gay? Really, guys? Come on. How does that even work? And anyway, the same goes for you, andrew.' and he says, 'look, my sisters a lesbian, dont go making me out to be homophobic.' and greg says, 'actually man, id say this makes you a bit homophilic.'
And some days its disheartening, like when I was at the grocery store with my mom on the outskirts of chicago and a man in the checkout line behind us openly stared at me the entire time I was loading our food into bags. Like, with his eyes bugging out and his mouth hanging open. He looked ridiculous, I looked like a person helping their retired mother shop for a family dinner. My mom looked mortified. That one was rough.
but all of these days add up to a life of generally wanting to be seen as more masculine than feminine, which is the way I feel most comfortable living. The problem is, its not that any one person is seeing me that way, but that of all the people who flip the gender coin for me in a day, there are more that see me as a man than that see me as a woman. And tho none of them are totally wrong, I really wish more people had a spectrum in their pocket instead of a coin.
I gotta admit tho, right now, what I want most in my daily interactions is to have that unconscious privilege of manhood bestowed upon me. I know that sounds shitty, and when I think about all the implications of it, the patriarchy, sexism, oppression and the like, I want no part of it. but then someone says 'sir' and i thrill at the novelty of it and strive to hold on to that bit of manliness for as long as they will let me. Im not trying to deceive anyone, or take advantage of being given said privilege, im just trying to tally up more heads than tails to start tipping the scales towards the identity in me that has been unseen by others for most of my life. And maybe that desire will wear off when it feels more even, and maybe in the future it wont be so difficult to present as a betwixt and between in middle america. But right now it feels really hard to maintain a genderqueer identity when most people I interact with can't fathom its existence. But again, if my identity is half my presentation and half others interpretation, then all I can do is wear the shirt that fits today and hope you can see how it does.

happy new year...?

I'm a total secret Jew. this time of year always feels like a time for new beginnings. I don't know why, given the fact that the world is dying and retreating into itself in anticipation of winter -- and here in the midwest the death of fall is dramatic and the winter we are headed towards will be bitter. Maybe it's because someone decided the school year should start at this time of year and i was programmed for 16 years (about half my life) to start anew around now, when the frenetic summertime is over, when harvesting is rampant and the work of putting away food for the winter (whether by canning and preserving or by fattening up for hibernation) is immanent, that now is the time for beginning the real work that will occupy me for the winter.
Too bad i only have the skecthiest idea of what to do with myself for the next 6 months. I usually have a better plan by this time of year. 4 years ago it was to tie up loose ends and prepare to move to seattle. 3 years ago it was to take classes (actual classes) in acting and ASL, 2 years ago it was to research Kurt Cobain and gender identity (mine and his), 1 year ago it was to get Hollow Earth Radio non-profit status and start a story to imagine a life for myself in the future.
This year...
traveling to collect others' stories about how they live their lives and to accumulate experiences of ways and places to live in order to figure out what my next life will look like. Cuz I'm secretly a homebody. when I visit people I want to cook dinner with them and do the dishes. When I don't have a place to sleep (aside from a patch of ground somewhere) I get very focused on the meals of the day, using them as an anchor, a way of having a home without a place. Sharing a meal is where the heart is. for me. Eating alone is when I feel the most homeless and hard-up.
I guess I'm really just out to learn the many definitions of home. And to share 'home' with as many people I love as possible. Maybe I need to start asking everyone I stay with the question: what is home to you?

first blog entry of the rest of your life

Never fails, put me in a moving vehicle and gimme music to listen to on headphones, and my mind starts to come alive. I've felt scattered and mute all summer. I dunno what that's about. But now it's fall and it's time to buckle down and T.C.B.

This is the time of year that i set out curricula for myself, i make up "classes" out of my artistic goals, give myself assignments to complete. I'm most prolific in the fall. Thinking back, most of my sizable works of fiction or research projects were attacked with vigor starting in the fall. Including that really depressing one set to sigur ros and elliot smith from 2003 that got lost when my laptop crashed...

I wonder if it's because all my favorite music is very fall in color and tone. Last year, right after moving into H is for House, I found the Fleet Foxes and started a story on my typewriter that i wish i could revisit right now...it was so clear and bright. Like September in Seattle--golden and sweet.

I know what it is, this is something i learned in China. When you are stationary and have no barrier between yourself and what is happening around you, you just have to live life where you are and figure out how to be in it and survive. When you can be in motion, and/or have something like headphones or a camera lens between yourself and what you are witnessing, everything is just removed enough to take a good look at. You can put a frame around your life and reflect on it--give it context and meaning. I haven't been taking myself out of my life enough to know what's happening with it. I haven't been able to tell stories about it because I haven't been looking at it as something with beginnings and endings, with a narrative arch. I have actually been meditating to try to shut off my narrator. Which is also helpful, but there is a time and a place for everything.

Here and Now is a great beginning.

Here is sitting next to Luka on a bus to Minneapolis.
Now is halfway through the Fleet foxes self-titled album at 9:30am on a saturday morning.

Now is punctuated by tambourine and a half-asleep bum, the vibration and subtle pull of a motorized vehicle traveling at 60mph, the taste of tortilla chips (breakfast) still in my mouth.

Here includes Luka's half open mouth and hands wrapped around an ipod, the sun breaking through clouds onto constantly retreating cornfields and misty woods, seated folks in their own worlds all around, the lady across the aisle on her laptop, one sparkly earring dangling in my view.

I'm grateful for all of it. For the love and sadness in my parents' eyes as they said goodbye once more at the bus station, for the uncertainty of what the winter holds for me, for the single oak tree in the middle of that cornfield out the window...

"oh, don't get careless, I'm sure it'll be fine, i love you, i love you, oh brother of mine."

For the Fleet Foxes and Dee Jordan, our bus driver, carrying me into my future.

what day is it?

oh yeah. its saturday. i just got a picture text from brunchers in seattle and their garnish boat. crap. i miss you. ive been overdosing on tom robbins since we left seattle. three books. well, two and a half. b is for beer is short and can be read in an afternoon. just finished skinny legs and all and realized it was a really good time to read it. the last message in it, when the seventh veil falls, is that we all have to figure it out for ourselves. and if that isnt why im doing what im doing i dont know what is. its so hard to find time to delve into things when you have duties and work and a life to maintain. i got a lot to figure out (as per usual) but this stuff is the stuff i need to be hanging out with myself to work on. in seattle i had a lot to figure out on how to deal with other people. ive spent three years learning over and over that i have a lot of work to do in that area, but i have done so with the price of ignoring myself. im so much better at talking to other people than writing for myself. i havent journaled (or even blogged) in months. longer. its time to find the balance of being a guest with a traveling partner and having more days than i can count to spend doing what i need to do. whole swaths of time to spend. its a little daunting. each day its a challenge to know how to fill it up. purpose. ill find it. while im searching ill scribble notes on what im doing. maybe thats the way itll come to me.

day 5 -- shopping mall-ing and movie watching

today we spent an inordinate amount of time in a shopping mall. this is what happens when you dont work and have nothing better to do. actually, we just stumbled across it, trying to find a hardware store to cut a spare key for a friend. (jack is letting us stay in their basement, but only has one key to the outside door.) we end up walking around a target, a big lots, and a dollar store, purchasing no more than a bag of gardettos (for me and my addiction) and a silver pocket watch with a hunting scene in gold on the flip front (for luka who doesnt leave their phone on and doesnt like things on the wrist). its actually a super-awesome watch, im kinda jealous. (oh big lots, how we love you)
then we ate corn on the cob raw from the thriftway (3 or a dollar) while sitting by the water. we found gillian and onyx, our uber-lovely hosts, and decided to rent a movie and get ice cream from the groc out. we rented oceans twelve and ate lemon-lime ice pops. both were light and tasty and gave me a rush.
and luka has taken to drinking instant coffee.
in trying to escape the trap consumerist america sets for everyone, we seem to have fallen headlong into it today. ah well, we were highly amused with ourselves the whole time, and wont be doing anything like that again in the near (or even far) future.
besides, being around all of those things to buy made me spend less money than my average $10/day.