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  • welcome to the hole

    welcome to the hole

    Once upon a time, I kept a LiveJournal account, gryphons_hole, a deep, dark, comfy little hole in my brain where I kept notes on my life and queerness.

    This is the archive to that account, mostly password protected, adult, queer content, stripped of photo content after the site restructured its photo hosting feature. I hope to restore that content as well.

    If I know you, ask for the password. If I don’t, hope for a generous mood.

    08.18.24 I have realized a need to continue in this space. A kink reawaking if you will, with content that may range into inappropriate for my other blog spaces.

  • and done! maybe…

    Okay!

    I can call the costume complete, if I have to…

    I finished the loincloth, which I think can even be worn on the belt over top of my utilikilt or leather pants for a nice finishing touch. (Parties in the middle of the month will likely not allow such nudity…)

    I also finished the touches for the add-ons to my harness. I even studded the shoulder pieces and loincloth. The loincloth got some left-over fur trimming…

    I like this kind of costume. I did something similar when camping for Guise and Ghouls back in Phoenix. Similar in that the costume has over a dozen pieces to it and yet – except for the cloak – I was still mostly nekkid. Heheheh…

    Me likey.

    So, the parts list for the horned-god:

    horns/circlet – check
    harness with studded shoulder caps – check
    belt with studded loincloth – check
    Wescos – double check
    fur & feather trims for boot shafts – check

    fur and feather edged faux snake-skin cloak – check
    (with fox head clasp…)

    beaded 7′ shaman’s juju stick – check

    I think I am good to go…

    If I feel masochistic enough throughout the remainder of the month, I can always bead some detailing onto the cloak. I have debated that for some time. The biggest hindrance is that the cloak is already lined, meaning I would have to top stitch the outer fabric without picking up the lining. Oh, bother! And with a full circular cloak hem to trim, I would be at it much longer than the hem of one of Laura Bennet’s cocktail dresses…

  • and another piece

    And one more piece. It has been done for a while now, but I have been trying to photograph it. Not so easy to photograph something that is about 2″ inches wide and 7 feet tall.

    For reference, I stand mostly eye-to-eye with the “skull” bone. The middle pheasant feather stand about seven foot tall from the floor…

    The beaded strands hanging from the “skull” (which I believe is a cow’s vertebrae) are chock full of bells, spirit bells, gold stone, citrine, carnelian, hematite, bone, three colors of horn, shell, wood, rosewood and glass beads. and are mostly capped off with bells or feathers…

    Yay! for the madness that takes me each year.

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  • Protected: The Best Runway Post-Game – EVAH!

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  • Last Night’s Dream

    Okay, WTF?!?!

    This was a freakin’ cheerleader camp, but it wasn’t. I don’t even now, really. It was set up in the guise of some celebration of achievement. Top caliber who-evers from all over the country… and for the big presentation, all of us recipients had to learn… a big choreographed number. Yeah, how gay is that? Only it wasn’t.

    The whole process, it seems the thing was rigged just so three annoying, cheesy bimbettes could have one last shot to show off their old, faded glory days. And it was awful and obvious what was happening. They tried to act like they were making it up as their went, but the three of them instantly knew what they were gonna do and would perform the same steps in unison, as they were ‘creating’…

    There were maybe five guys in the whole thing, and the damned bitches couldn’t choreograph for a guy if their lives depended on it… and they kept implying that I couldn’t get it… well, duh! They couldn’t teach! They would go through the moves once, at full speed without explaining or calling any of it and the three of them wouldn’t even do it all the same… Yeah. (The paraphrase Val for A Chorus Line… I could dance rings around those other girls… I had terrific fan kicks!) They never seemed to get that I might be gay, that I might know what I was doing and that I might be better at it than they were…

    Ugh! It was awful. The entire experience. At points, I started waking from it because it was so completely irritating. It was so phony. And everyone else just loved it! Ate the shit up! It embraced the entire concept of rewarding bad examples of human behavior, which has been such a hot spot for me throughout my life. (And more recently, which I think is the major cause of the dream…)

    As the dream progressed, due mostly to a slight awakening I think, it have a bit of a shift, we had returned to camp, it was literally camping… There was had been a downpour (how we hadn’t gotten hit by it at ‘practice’ I don’t know) and it was starting up again. My tent had collapsed. I booked to my site to get my stuff out of the tent and into my car… to salvage what I could… boxes of comic books (what the hell were those doing there?) clothes, and I open the car door and it is already almost full, WTF? (Do I really take that much crap with me camping?) Someone came running down to help me… It was Tim Gunn (Did I forget to mention Tim Gunn was there? Hahahahaha! I love my dreams!) We frantically tried to save what we could and shortly, he was reminding me that it was only a couple moments to showtime. (I can’t honestly say if he told me to “Make it work!”…)

    Yeah, that’s my dream…

    I can make out a few reasons for chunks of it, but – really – WTF?

  • Bwaaaaaaaahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…

    I finally got to move some of this crap around. I am making a rather sizable dent over in the bedroom area…

    I finally moved most of the huge stack of boxes out of there and what do I find…?

    Hahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

    I forgot all about it!

    During chemo, I went to Louisville to my sister’s house for our family’s big fourth of July. One of her whacked-crazy neighbors gave me a gift. The cheesiest fake theatrical moustache you can ever imagine… big ol’ handle bar and red! Fantastic!

    Mine had already fallen out. In fact, almost all hair on my body left me by this point.

    When I got back to KCMO, I stuck it on one of my breathing masks. I wore it to the clinic for a check-up. It was a huge hit!

    I can’t believe I forgot all about that!

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  • job front update

    I met with the Lady from the temp agency this morning. I filled out a lot of paperwork… I meet with a guy from the bindery place tomorrow morning about a temp-to-hire position. The temp lady said he was excited to meet with me…

    I was concerned that he was looking to man machines I didn’t know how to operate, but she assured me he saw the same resume she did. *deep breath*

    Okay. Here we go…

  • The Madness Returns…

    The Holiday Madness.

    It can strike me down almost any season of the year. The most maniacal of them all is December. But the gay high holiday is approaching…

    I am quite fortunate. No decorations… The Halloween Madness stirs in me only for the costumes of the occasion. I mean, really, WTF? You can be anything for a day. Holy Fuck! And with the drive to extend every holiday to a month or more, one is given at least a half dozen changes to by dress-up. Holy Crap!

    Sign. Me. Up!

    It has returned. Only this time, it is rather strategic. I planned it, although I should not expect to be able to control it – ever! But instigated it should prove to be okay…

    I have everything I need already, no spending money I do not have to spend… (I was a floral for eight years, remember. One gathers a lot of crap in eight years…) Feathers, beads (millions of fuckin’ beads from a failed endeavor with my sister years back.) and I mean the good shit, too! Bones and horns and all sorts of borderline creepy shit from my studio mate and his ex-partner… And most importantly, prior costumes that most of the folks I currently know have yet to see! Yay!

    Now, to my personal Weirdness Effect of the Madness… (I have been fully aware of my Weird Effect since about three years old. I am weird. I enjoy it. I embrace it. I live it!) I don’t copy characters. I have never been Luke Skywalker or Hans Solo. No movie characters, no heroes from the printed page. No celebrity. It comes from my head. From my worlds. Sometimes mythical creatures from the past, but nothing close to historical. Very often, it is linked to celtic mythos some how, in some way.

    And so I return to my default Halloween experience. The horned god. Not that it much matters, but I have yet to try to impersonate the horn-god. I take it on from the view of a holiday reveler from the past, masquerading with mask and tied-on horns… playing on the ancient origin-myth of the holiday as well, hiding among the spirits and demi-humans.

    This year will be fantastic. A few years back, I made the most excellent of cloaks. From the year I was the Gryphon Lord (Told you I make them up…) It is coming out of retirement. It is very wide collared, dropping off one shoulder, made of a moss-green faux snake skin print, lined with black satin. The neck opening is lined with wolf fur and pheasant feathers. The clasp is made of two black fox heads set nose-to-nose with a bejeweled chain draped between… It was my best tailor work, but the details more than make up for it.

    Adding into it… I picked up a basic, knobby walking stick a few years back at the local Renaissance Festival. It has been transformed over the past two days… it is not quite done yet, but it is shaping up beautifully! I can hardly wait. There is this pile of bones here from Michael’s ex-partner. I am guessing cow… I found a vertebrae that resembles the skull of some odd, little creature when turned on end. It is affixed to the top end of the staff. Fur and leather and leather lacing make hand grip[s and added detail. The ‘skull’ had two holes drilled into what has become the beak… now adorned with beads and metal feather charms… Over a dozen threads of bells and beads – gemstone, silver, brass, copper, bone, horn and wood – drape from the back of the ‘head’… very festive!

    The costume will take on a few different incarnations through the month of October. The most modest form will include my leather pants, Wescos and peasant shirt. The middle road version with my harness instead of the shirt. The risque version will be a harness and loincloth. And – if I manage to attend Hal-O-bear at cactus canyon (which it looks like I just might…) than the rest of the costume will be harness and boots… only…

    Such fun!

    I have addition accents, of course! For boot trim, I have from the Gryphon Lord, these neat things made from disassembled feather dusters and rabbit fur. The feathers hang down in a swoop and the fur lines the top of the boots. It makes a nice tribal effect. Helps to take my boots out of the modern. I was hoping to do the same to my harness. I have various scraps of leather, I was planning to hand lace them onto the harness to make it less modern. Less now. The loincloth still needs to be made, but I have a good sized chunk of dark green leather that will do the job nicely, keeping the rough edges of the hide. I think I have enough rabbit and wolf fur to line it if I decide to add to my own enjoyment of the costume. Heheheh. If I plan it right, the loincloth can just go over the leather pants for the more modest version.

    Time permitting, I will keep making and adding while I still have materials to do so. That gives some juggle room for different versions… so I don’t feel too much the same from party to party. I think two parties and the Hal-O-Bear event.

    So much fun!

    Welcome to my madness.

  • the dream…

    Such an odd freakin’ dream. And no pizza right before bed…

    My lead and a entire gaggle of the gossipy hens from the yearbook company were transplanted into the florist I worked for when I first moved to KCMO… They were sitting around tables doing these kitschy little arrangements, which would never have been associated with that shop, just saying… (It was snobbish among snob, just how I used to like my florist jobs.)

    I had come into to help them out. I am not sure if I was coming in from some other department or just helping them out for the day… I asked my lead what I could do to help. She turned and thought about it. She was making these tiny little bud-vase arrangements. A whole bunch, for a luncheon of something… She need bows. She started rummaging through the ribbon. One of the ladies said something along the lines of, “But don’t make them like you usually do…”

    Oh, no she didn’t. WTF?

    I asked her to explain. The heat rose in my face. The room fell silent. She tried to explain that no one wanted a floppy, uneven bow…

    “You mean, you want a perfect round Tobler’s bow?” (Tobler’s is a shop here in town that makes the perfected form mass-produced looking bows on everything they ever make…That reference is not typically made as a compliment.)

    “Well, not if you’re gonna put it that way…” she replied. “People just don’t want a flip-floppy, mis-matched bow that looks like it’s coming undone…” I was ready to hurt the bitch!

    The lead then took me aside as the hens started to peck peck peck, scratch a little, scratch a little more. To her merit, she did her best to explain it without being a catty cow like the rest of the bitches. She was always good like that.

    I started to rant at her, my lead from the yearbook company that was now mysteriously making bud-vase arrangements… That is when I woke up. I think I did so because I was getting so freakin’ angry. I am sure my body temperature was on the rise. In those cases, I either wake up or soak the bed sheets through. I hate soaking the sheets through…

    Now, I make bitchin’ bows. I can make them in my sleep. I think I have before, too, during the Holiday rush… I make them all too. The funniest thing about this? The shop I worked for here in KCMO. They prided themselves on flopping, irregular, “roadkill” bows. The more uneven and asymmetrical, the better. Um, I passed Kenneth’s bow training in one afternoon. (Yeah, I am that gay!)

    I don’t know why I have this dream at this moment, but I do know what it signifies. I hate that folks around me constantly try to protect me from the truth of things… UGH! They seem to think that helps to keep me safe from harm. How keeping me for the truth of things and preventing me from improving will ever be a benefit, I don’t not know. It has traced back through every major chunk of my life. All the way back to my parents and siblings when I was in grade school.

    That can really set me off. It does not help me. It only hinders. It causes me to make my life-decisions out of ignorance, since some key information is being withheld from me…

    Oddly, I don’t know what event in my life triggered the dream to happen now. I haven’t just gone through such an event. Perhaps it is warning of an upcoming event. Meh. How can I see that one before it happens. If people lie, they lie… I can’t typically see that until after the fact.