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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.
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a proper full taken name
In the interests of any potential up-coming bawdiness in association with anything close to burlesque and the such, I am decided that it is time for my moniker to bloom to a full and proper length.
Gryphon van der Hole.
It really speaks to me. I mean, honestly, how seriously can one take himself…?
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a day without me
I would very much have liked to participate in a Day without Gay, or which manifestation it took in various places. I had even made plans to do so. Then it fell a bit apart: my hours were cut through much of November, Christmas got moved six hours worth of driving further away. Plates and property tax came due…
Well, let’s face it. I am working to diminish my debt. I am not financially successful. I am almost not even financial mentionable.
So, I went to work. This week marked the start of one last stretch of over time before the new year.
My day…? I discovered how fast I move on one particular process. I mean faster than all but one other guy on the job. I mean fast. I also fought every section of my line on a binding job. Tooth and nail kinda fight. The problems moves from one bit to another, out of nowhere. It was that special kind of frustrating. Then, a mis-fold showed up in one page signature, resulting in books that wouldn’t trim properly. After the crew sorted out the bad signatures and we bound what good books we could, we were left short by over a hundred books. Remake.
We don’t like remakes. Any body. Nobody. Wasted ink, wasted paper. Extra plates and labor costs.
Super Design Fag to the rescue. The folding lead said they couldn’t be refolded. Peshaw! I grabbed a burnishing tool, well, really, what passed for a burnishing tool. Nobody there knew what I meant. In. A. Bindery. Nobody knew what a burnisher was…
I squared off the bad pages and re-creased them with the tool. I made count. I avoided the remake.
I told my lead he owed me a cookie. I like cookies.
Shortly afterward, the light bulb triggered.
I’m gay. I mean gay gay gay! Every one at work, except those under the rock, know this to be true. I challenge my crew on their off humor regularly. I break them in to the world of teh gay Gryphon experience. Only they call me Jeff.And they all know what happens when I am not there. Everyone else wanders aimlessly more often through the day. Questions get more complicated answers. Jokes are a bit more boring. My lead actually has to work! They are less happy when I am gone. They are less gay.
Anyway. I think I did a service on this day of subtle protest. Even as I wished I could afford the symbol of solidarity, but I could not do so. I felt I did my part, even if not the part I had wished originally to do…
To all my brethren that showed to folks that do not understand how much of the world is driven by us queers: I thank you. Every last one. I may even bring cookies.
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ganked from ogam
My journal is called _____ because _____.
My subtitle is _____ because _____.
My friends page is called _____ because _____.
My username is ____ because _____.
My default userpic is _____ because_____.My journal name is becoming real. It is a reference to the Velveteen Rabbit. I can thank gearjock for returning the story to my life. It is brilliant. For me, the book’s concept of toys becoming real – and the steps involved – are the perfect parallel to my life in leather, including the health problems of the last few years.
The most poignant excerpt: “What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
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My journal’s subtitle: stories of an old skin horse. Going along with the first answer. I certainly relate to the Skin Horse. I have become rather shabby, have gotten loose in the joints and at least have had all my hair loved off… (Well, not exactly loved off…)
This is an excellent avatar for me.
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My friends page: more becoming. Further thoughts on a theme. It seems to me that the brilliance of LJ is the ability to find folks much like myself, in this sense, so frickin’ beautiful for the wear their live has had on their seams…
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My username: gryphons_hole. It has yet to change since joining LJ. I don’t expect it to do so. It works on multiple levels: my own little corner of the world; the dark, almost forgotten edges of my mind, where the deep stuff lives; and yes, the obvious, naughty hole… and pie-hole for that matter.
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My default icon: curious. It is my fourth default since I joined LJ in October of 2005. If you click through to view my icons, the others are marked in the order they were used. Lately, I try to stick with defaults that clearly show my face. The photo was taken as part of my 30×30 of self-portraits last July.
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busy, busy, busy
This has been an amazingly disorganized year for me. That is coming to a close, with the year, leaving me in a place to arrange the things of my life better for the upcoming years. I hope.
That said, the remainder of this year is gonna whiz passed me.
Having basked in the glow of <dakoopst>’s visit for most of a week, this last week left me in a hurry to finish stuff for both The Late Show and Slap-n-Tickle galleries: a delightful holiday themed subtle piece of raunch for the first and a row of jewelry pieces for the latter.
I also have a more featured presence in both of their February shows, both erotic in nature: illustration for one, photography for the other.
I will be in Cleveland over Christmas, although close to half of my free time will be spent driving. I will try to arrange a couple stops for folks on the way back… I bet you know who you are.
will be visiting over New Year’s Eve and Day and into that weekend. Perhaps another handsome traveller in the second half of January.
It has been confirmed. I am the model for Dr. Sketchy’s KC for Sunday, January 18. Any local queers are more than welcome to stop by to see me, sketch me, shot me… *eg* Details can be found here. That will be a full weekend, since I will be in Louisville, Kentucky Friday and Saturday for my sister’s commitment ceremony with her partner. Crazy fun all over the place.
And of course, all of that leads right into heavy season at work.
*whew*
Oh, yeah.
I have been horny as all get out. The crappy-ass doors to the studio are finally being replaced and I would like nothing more than to jump the contractor doing the work. especially when he bends over like that in the tool belt… And now the big, bearish head of the maintenance crew has joined him. And me with no doors to wank in peace…
*boing*
EDIT: I almost forget. Another follow up at the HIV doctor today: cd4 – 189 (about double the first visit) and viral load- 457. better and better.
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Protected: same old rehash
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sunday style
Apologies to those waiting still for this week’s Sunday style post…
There won’t be one.I had a good haul at the DAV this morning, but the day went to crap and well… I just have to be elsewhere.
Catch me next week.
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album art – dakoopst edition

The Art of Staring – the latest collaborative effort between Dakoopst and the Hole.
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When <dakoopst> and I went to chop down my Christmas twig, we roamed about my neighborhood for a nice stroll through the warehouses of the West Bottoms. The area is a balance of blight, renewal, dead birds and graffiti murals.
We took photos.
And it would seem that each and every one of them would make fantastic album art. Odd thing…
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Lost in Thought – the debut album from Dakoopst.
Burning Rubber – the new concept album from Dakoopst and the Hole…

Call of the Wild – industrial noise from the urban landscape.

Roaming the Bottoms – a sexually charged concept piece from Dakoopst.

An Introspective Lean – a collection of noise and spoken word from the Hole.

The Fruitful Bush – pump all night long to these remixes from Dakoopst.

The Broad Stance – a collection of favorites from the Hole…

*snicker*
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still that day to me
As my work schedule goes, in my mind this is still December first. I am a bit late, but really, somewhere to the West, it still applies for real. And for some of us, it is everyday, so two days for everyone shouldn’t be a big thing.
AIDS.
I try not to think too much about the drive to not mention it. About the stigma. About that nobody talks about it for what it is: an everyday, twenty-four hour event. It is endemic to everybody’s life, even if they don’t see that fact. I try not to think about my rage that Americans pretend it is a foreign tragedy. I try not to think about the huge numbers dead from the world; those that should be here, in my life, as my mentors and friends. I try not to dwell in the emptiness left behind by this disease.
I try not to think about all of this… because I carry it with me in my blood and I need to think about living, about surviving. About carrying my life forward, bravely and wholly.
I try not to think about it all because those thoughts crush me, even as my shoulders bear the burden of so much weight in my life.
And yet, I realize the time has come to think of it all, every last bit. -
Protected: sunday style – romance edition

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proof – as requested
<dakoopst>’s bed-beard, as mentioned:
