Skip to main content

jan.17 {indelicate distractions}

I just woke up thinking it was Thursday and when I looked at the clock it was only 10:30pm, still Wednesday.  Could this day be any longer?

Thank you to all of you who wrote and texted me regarding yesterday's PSA (I guess that would be today's actually) with your love and support around the craziness that has descended on our lives - Alex can use all that he can get at this point.  I have no idea how he's even getting up and going to work everyday through all of this.  We are taking it one moment at a time.  I totally need a distraction form all the doom and gloom around here.

In the doctor's office last week, not to be confused with the visit earlier today to the same said doctor's office for the little one's now diagnosed flu- yeah, it's been a rough week - my oldest told me that I was like Dory from Finding Nemo because I have short term memory loss.  He was kind of kidding, as we were passing the time waiting for the pediatrician trying to decide who was most like what character in the movie, a clever trick that apparently had worked by decorating the room with big, happy Disney decals to distract us from the generally unpleasant things the place suggests.  I think I'm more like Marlin, but what do I know?  Where was I going with this?  I think somewhere in the vein of thinking that a little memory loss sounds pretty good about now (hmm, maybe he's right after all).  Oh right, distractions.

In the process of giving this blog a much needed infusion of new life extreme makeover style, I was halted by the aforementioned head-spinning turn of events.  I've decided to resume our regularly scheduled program despite all the serious business that's going down because a diversion seems like a good idea.  I need to think happy thoughts.

I was on the verge of the fun announcement that, for your viewing pleasure, I've decided I am going to post some juicy weekend creative writing.  In the spirit of giving you something fresh and fun for your creative brain to chew on, and also to support all the good quality smut that is out there by the talented writers and artists who dare to go there, I'd like to share some sexy tales.  This is a total experiment, so I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this, but I do know as mentioned earlier it's something I want to shed a little light on.  And who knew there were so many steamy shops on Etsy?  Wait til you see! I'll be featuring art along with interesting topics of conversation as well as stories.

So, a fun name for these weekend dalliances is an order and hopefully I can get your help with that.  I'd love a smart, sassy, provocative acronym for the word SMUT to headline the features - like, Sexy Musings and Unabashed Tales - or something of that flavor.  Everything will be mostly M rated (I think) as I don't want to have to label this entire blog with an adult content warning, that's not really what this is about, but I'll surely give the requisite heads up before sending you head first into the deep end as I know little eyes might be around as well.

There you have it.  I hope it will be fun, eye-opening, and stirs up something unexpectedly yummy and new for you!  Maybe we'll even learn something along the way.

Thank god it's finally tomorrow.  A new day.  I'm off to bed to fight this germ that is trying to get the better of me.


Popular posts from this blog

Inner Alchemy Cards: Build A New World Deck

Our next make-your-own card adventure is finally here! Inner Alchemy Collage: Build A New World Deck (online) is an artful exploration of language, learning, inspiration, and collaboration, that delves into important ideas around activism and systems of oppression. This is a way for us to examine and disrupt harmful dominant narratives, tell new stories, and inspire one another to use our creativity and personal power to help build the collective world we all want to live in! In the end you will have a beautiful and meaningful handmade deck of 35 oracle cards to use as unique a tool for guidance and reflection whenever you need it.  I'm your host,  Mindy Tsonas Choi , an artist, organizer, radical belonging activist, and the founder of the Be Seen Project - a grassroots initiative resourcing BIPOC artist and makers working in activism. Join me along with other stellar artists, makers and co-creators who have also been exploring social justice and activism as part of their creativ

The Cost of Selling Belonging

As someone who use to sell belonging and believed I was creating something universally magical , I now have fresh eyes on the harm that I once caused. I understand what can (and was) incredibly healing and impactful for some, was at the same time excluding, marginalizing and undervaluing others. First, to anyone who ever felt like they did not belong to anything I created because they were unable to afford it or felt like they did not have the social capitol to join -  I am sincerely sorry for not seeing you sooner .   To our entire creative community as a whole, I urge us all to think about belonging in new and equitable ways, and to do the work of dismantling these hierarchical structures that leave so many people out of the circle. We all deserve to have access to creativity and belonging, and I'd go so far as to say both are fundamental basic human needs and rights. Selling belonging can look like... Creating spaces and experiences that can only be accessed by buying in at one,

what's in a name?

It’s May 14, 2020 and I’m on a transnational call with a social worker and translator of the SOS Children’s Village offices in South Korea. It’s 7pm my time and 9am the next day in Korea, which adds to the surreal quality of the moment. It is my first long distance call following my inquiry with the organization documented to be my first place of entry into the system, found in my Korean records (the acquisition of which is an incredible story in and of itself). It was July 21, 1972 and I was 5 months old. It’s a small miracle the organization still exists, and an even bigger blessing that they took such time and care in searching for information and to talk it all through with me in person. I try not to cry as the call connects. What I learn is a lot of small details about that fateful evening which amount to nothing traceable, but still feel like huge missing pieces of my life. I was left near the entrance around 7pm under a small tree, wrapped in a blanket with only a name scribble