So, I was all set to post a fun, joyful post. A post about the belly dancing, about the new modeling situation I was able to get...but...

But my friend, a close friend. One of my Women Friends. One of the best women I've ever met...her house burned down. They lost EVERYTHING...

I've sort of lost the energy, you know?

http://www.facebook.com/TamrisHouse She has 6 kids, 5 at home, they all have nothing but what they have on them...Please, if you can help, even a small bit, please do.

I will post another day about my goodness, I will. But tonight, I want to listen to music, think of my lovely friend, and figure out what I can do to help. She has given me, with the help of others and of course my own work, my very LIFE back.

Please keep them close, do anything you can to help...

I love you, Tamri. You mean the world to me.

F Bomb Attack!! Or, Rainbow Socks Save the World!

Oh, it's been too long. 

I admit, it was Depression. It came whacking at me, kept me up all night, made Anxiety come to the party (she didn't want to, but she's so malleable!) and Self Doubt tagged along, too, even! It wasn't the best party I've been to, but honestly - not the worst. Though they were always there at those Worser Parties. You know, worse, but more worse - Worser. Those. Those were bad news, Maaannn... (ala, Chong, of Cheech and, that is.)

A few things changed this. I took the time to write to a friend, and got the shit out. She didn't even need to reply for it to lift, but I knew she would, and she did, the Love. I also went and bought a hula hoop. And? I wore my rainbow socks and shorts in PUBLIC.

Oooo, Raisin Girl, shorts? Self expression in PUBLIC? Sheesh, what are you? Fearful?! 

Yep. Sure have been. I've not worn shorts in public since 1993. And no, I am not kidding. Not even sure I wore them at *all*, let alone in public. Hell, I've not followed my own fashion loves since! At that time, I was divorcing DH #1, so I brought back some of my old styles from college and high school, but I didn't have the chance to dress for me all that much. Work being a part of it and money being another. When you make bagels for a living, you have to not wear a lot of jewelry and you have to accept that you will have dough and flour and mess all over you and under your nails (and then there was the house cleaning, ffs! Crap!). Over time, and over more poor-ness, I just got into the "It'll Do" mode. Anything special came to be because of an event, not from love for the item. Then later - way later - I had a baby (then another!). It's just not cool to have a baby/toddler and nurse with clothes that can't comfortably be lifted and maneuvered for nursing, nor are having a lot of bracelets or hair down (and done nicely) a reality.

Better shot of the great rainbow sock. 

 But now? The "babies" are 9 and almost 7! I have found *a* niche - Rocking unschooling friends with wild fashions, artists...and Body Confidence. Holy SHIT that is the real "it" isn't it? But that couldn't have come without a few things...like 1, therapy and 2, those friends! Now don't get me wrong, I have a kick ass best friend and have had her for ages, but she has a damned busy life. God, I hate this phrase...but...I had to find my "tribe." (gag, gag, gag me twice! oh my god, my fingers are falling off in a bloody mess of horrible modern colloquialisms!! save me!) 

And I DID! A few times over! *My* niche, maybe too?

My Unschoolers, my BFF for Life, Miz Sliz, hooping and...the point of the post...


Belly Dancing!


OMG. Like, really, OMG. YES! I think I'm high, still, from the class. Endorphins, baby! And finding a passion?! Holy fuck noodles and to the yeahs, Babies! 

No, actually, I quite enjoy it. It's a lovely class... ;) 

No, no, back to the Fuck Noodles! Whooooot! I muthahfuckin' loved it! My ASS muscles are sore. Yep, 'tis true. Quite, in fact. I think it's finally rising back up. Oh, yes.

So what happened, right? Raisin Girl - what is so fucking great about this class? It's the women! REAL women. Like curvy, hot, sensual women that are of ALL ages! (8yrs to 68yrs or so in my class) And they risk, they bare, they dare and they just are dancers, they are DANCERS. This is a vibe and energy I've craved for so long.

You know of course, this originated at my recent  Womynfest ;) aka, a recent conference. I can see the stages and steps to this, and MAN was the conference a big ole step up into deeper feminism. I was so blind to what I was doing before, thinking and hearing in my head...

If You Wouldn't Say it to Your Best Friend, Why the Hell Would You Say it to Yourself? 

Can you imagine, you are behind a layer of fuzz, and what you love is right over there, behind it? But yet you don't know that there is any reason to tear down the fucking fuzz, so you have sat there, dully, looking at the fuzz. Why? Because it's just white and fuzzy.

Actually, maybe the Fuzz is Fear, or like, maybe, an aspect of it? You like that phraseology there? Like, wow, man. Like, duuude. Hmmm. Interesting in and of itself.

So, see that's the thing - we have to just try anything and everything that piques our curiosity and interests. Is that not what unschooling about anyway? Curious? Check it out! Love it, leave it, whatever - but yeah, check it out FFS!

Ok, *this* is better, actually. 

 This was the best risk I ever took. Because I'm a newbie I can say this - EVERYONE should take this class. It will SAVE YOU from yourself. It's good for ALL people. My GRANDMOTHER should take this class (ok, actually, she should, but that's a different post and a different blog). My dead GRANDPARENTS should take this class. My fucking DOG should take this class. 

In reality? If you are a woman that questions her visibility, her sexuality and sensuality - especially due to age, abuse or, fucking so called "imperfections" - this really IS your class.

I have nothing more to say (yeah, right).

Having a La Fin du Monde (because it's not, it's the opposite!). Wishing I was at the Gallery tonight, but maybe next week. Mellowing into the evening.

Modeling news? Next post. Because, yes, there is some!

~ Raisin Girl

But wait, there's more!

Yes, there is!

One of the Meetup group's moderators I hunted down for drawing and painting contacted me and I may have 2 more gigs in July! It's a "plein air" group, which means outside - which I happen to LOVE. Outside?! No clothes! Whoo-hoo! lol! It's also not far away, so bonus-bonus, ya'll! :) I haven't heard back yet from the facilitator from dA, but he *did* just go to his 50th College Graduation reunion...at Dartmouth! So I'll patiently...ok, not patiently, I'm haunting my damned in-box, I admit freely, lol...await his response for the future Thursdays. If you pray - please do ;)

It's so interesting to me...now that I've done this, I have less interest in working out, in dieting, and in perfecting my body. I've come to realize that I AM perfect, just as I am. I'm lovely. I'm fucking gorgeous! SO THERE...pfft.

So I shall keep you updated with my antics and hedonism...oh, GOD, no, I used a "dad word" lol...

Off to wash the hair and go buy...what else...champagne! Whoot! 

Why My Gams are Candied...or, My Friends Love Me, They Really Love Me!

...thank you Sally Field, I know I didn't quote you exactly, but I know you'd get the idea, and I suspect it'd be ok with you...

So. Coming up with a name for this blog was a struggle for me. I didn't want an over-emotional, angst-ridden, touchy-feely name. I'm an Earthy being. I needed something just right to reflect me, my emergence into well being and sexiness and positiveness. Something that showed that yes, I do NOT Wear Fear anymore, thank you very much! I want people to know that yes, inDEED, I am HERE! 

Well, I wound up asking friends, posting on Facebook and what not, gathering ideas, you know, that sort of thing. Nothing was hitting me until - UNTIL! The wonderful and amazing and talented writer, Jasie, of the blog,  Jasie Plays at Adulthood, came up with the name - Candied Gams. See, she and I love our legs :) And we should - they get us places, they work, and as an extra benefit - they are also hot and sexy, our gams. I had began taking pictures of my gams at the place where our friendship began - Life is Good, an amazing conference for Unschoolers and those that want to learn about it and it's awesome coolness. I began doing so because for the first time in YEARS and YEARS, as in over a decade, I felt GREAT about putting on red tights, with fishnets over and my short little cut offs. I'm glad I came prepared!

I went, at first hesitantly, out of my hotel room and into the main conference center. My friends were there...those I have learned to Trust (yes, a capital T!) and Love, and they thought I looked wonderful. I began to FEEL wonderful! That got me to feel so comfortable that I went to the bar and got a champagne cocktail...ok, I would have done that anyway, but my point is, is that they helped me take risks and dress as *I* wanted to and fucking OWN it. Ha! Yes! Sure, I was already set to go to the gallery and model, but there was a lot of work left for me on the inside still - of course. This turned out to be a very significant part of it.

I'm babbling and digressing - I do both so well, though!

So the Lovely Jasie suggested Candied Gams, as we had been playing with the word for a bit - Gam Central, Gamitude, Gamalicious - but I thought, "What does "Candied Gams" have to do with me reclaiming my body, my very life?!" (Daht, daht, DANT...!) She said,  close to at least, "Of course it does! Besides, your thighs are SWEET!" Well! Well, then! YES! OK! Got it!

It was a done deal.

And that is the story of Candied Gams.

Love,
~ Raisin Girl

The Strange Story of My Surfacing...or, How I came up with this name ;)

Did you all catch that? I referenced "Surfacing," by Sarah McLaughlin, yet my name is Raisin Girl...interestinK! ;)

I am a Raisin Girl. I never was a Corkflake Girl, though I tried. I tried so hard to be One of Many, to blend in, be a part of things, but I had some interesting complications along the way. Like a Montessori education, like parents that were philosophers and sociologists and critical thinkers, like hippies for parents in a VERY conservative, closed-minded area of Virginia. Like a mother that didn't wear make up - or a bra - and a dad that had long hair. Like, we ate "natural" foods. We wore seat belts. Always. Like, my parents drank wine, not liquor. Like, my dad cooked. In the early to mid 1970s, this was weird. *I* was weird. And, *I* was bullied. I learned that being different from the mainstream was a risk to your health. Until...

Until, that is, I moved to southern California in the early 1980s and after a few misses with other social groups, I found...the Punks. I found others that didn't fit into a mold. I found creative writing, I found music (in large part, due to my dad who had Simon and Garfunkle and the Sex Pistols  in his large collection of records...and that was just the "S" section), I found a niche.

  The bullying had settled in around my heart and soul, however, so this new good stuff wasn't like an inoculation from harm or hurt, it wasn't at all. But it was, in many ways, a soft place to fall. And it's where I return when I'm needing comfort, love and care. I fall into the open arms of the outcasts, the artists, the musicians, the poets, the radical unschoolers...into the arms of the We Don't Judge You and We Love You group(s). I have spent years away from those like this, yet my return has been welcomed by all. Except maybe my husband, but that is a different story, for a different time, a different blog, perhaps. I spent years inside myself, hurting, attacking myself, lonely, isolated...yet having amazing children and a relationship...or five...

Reclaiming one's very Self is quite a project. People in the midst and on the sidelines can become confused, hurt, joyful, intimidated, happy, concerned, thrilled...scared. Hell, so have I. I am all of those things and more.

For so long, Dave Matthew's song, "Too Much," has been "mine."

I am challenging myself to refute that, find a better song that aptly describes my real self. I am NOT "Too Much," in fact, I never was. I am, and always was, just right. Just Right. 

Today I have spent a few hours looking up local galleries and emailing folks about more modeling possibilities. I realize that I NEED artists, I NEED to be near creative people that think, that feel, that express. My body and soul have been trapped. It's not just the Stalker's fault, it was before that too that I closed up, closed in and attempted to die on the inside. The Stalker just fed off of my pain and tears and fed me more bullshit. By the spoonful by massive spoonful...vats of the shit. I didn't know this at the time. I was too sick. Now? I'm healing. I am getting my, I hate this phrase, but I don't know what else to call it, my "authentic self" back (oh, god, I think I just vomited a bit in my mouth...!). But I am, is the thing. I'm reclaiming so much, my Others, my Life, my passions, my artistry.

Modeling felt like dancing again. It felt like I was a part of creating beauty - and I was. That was MY body they drew and sketched. It was my choice, me allowing, offering my body - no one took a damned thing from me for once. This was my choice. Mine. I own it - the choice and my body - and I can't allow anyone to hurt me or to take from me ever, ever again.

Never was a Cornflake Girl...thought it was a good solution, hangin' with the Raisin Girls (and boys)...

Let's hope there are some openings for me soon...feeling whole is amazing and addictive. And I fucking deserve every moment of feeling whole, beautiful and valued.

The experience...

Well, all - I did it!

And I LOVED it!

It may take a bit to get as articulate as I'd like about it..perhaps just banging away on the keyboard will get me movin' and groovin' :)

I first went in at about 6:15pm - class was at 7. I wanted to get there early and familiarize myself with the building, who was there, where the bathroom was and all of that important stuff. I was met by someone I think I know already, lol, and then shown around a bit. I then was shown more by another man - turns out he is my mom's neighbor!

I then went next door and had 2 glasses of champagne. I was shaking so hard! I also had a hard cider in my cooler, lol, which I got into on a break, later on.

I really don't need to write this like a Yelp review do I? I just caught myself. This is different. The great wine bar and the cool studio aside, that is not what this blog is for.

I felt POWERFUL, strong, sensual, sexy, proud, sure of myself, confident, beautiful. I held the poses, dealt with the heat (first) and the chill (later), sleeping extremities and didn't let my eyes wander.

I do hope they want me back - and soon. Next week is covered, which is good for me as I will have my period then and tampons and I are not friends (but I'm willing anyway, should the other model cancel!).

*I* decide when and how people will view me - no one will sneak up, spy on me or take advantage of me again. My body, my right, my choice.

YES.

~ Raisin Girl

...and the reclaiming takes a more intense turn...

Well, it seems appropriate to begin my blog on the first day that I am to be a life model, a figure model...a nude model. Yup, that's right. As in an art class, figure drawing, at a local and very nice gallery and art studio.

If you have known me for a a long time, this may, or may not shock you. If you knew me in my Magenta, Rocky Horror days, you would know me as a bit of an exhibitionist.

However, if you knew me after those days, you'd know me as a real chopped up wreck - literally and figuratively.

It has taken over a decade to get even an inkling of healing from the events that took place. The gaslighting, the mental mind fucking (to quote Frank N. Furter  ),

 the abuse and the rapes from one "person," combined with past abuse and an eating disorder really left me a mess. So much of a mess that I split off into a few forms of me. About 7 Me's, actually. 

But I digress...this isn't about the damage, this is about the repair. The scars are almost gone from my body, in fact my legs show no signs anymore, as you can see here :) 

I first began this reclaiming process, in this manner that is, when my husband brought home a really nice camera and took some very sexy, intimate shots of me. I found that I loved it. A lot. Not long after I was able to get a photography shoot with a friend that is a budding photographer and that really got me motivated - body acceptance, celebration, reclaiming...It was an almost all nude shoot, beginning at an abandoned house (clothed, but undone) and ending in the center of a dry lake bed. The possibility of being seen was certainty there, and I didn't care! I found myself loving it. It wasn't just the cold wind and the taboo-exhilaration of being an exhibitionist, it was the pure thrill of claiming MY body back.

Things sure happened fast! I emailed the gallery and the next day, I was given a time and a date! I wasn't able to participate that quickly however, so the date was changed to today, June 7, 2012. And, not only have I yet to do this, as it's this evening, I received another email from a different person, asking me to model for a workshop at one of the local colleges. Well! OK! I love the idea, but I told him that I am BRAND new, and I'll need to see if I can deliver properly at this session tonight. Who knew? And without even a photo or a body description, nothing.

So begins my journey into a new era of Me. 42 years old, a mother of five, not in the best shape ever...but proud, willing and able to give it my best.

Wish this Raisin Girl good luck...but I'm not sure she really needs it... :)