Posts Tagged why
First Person Feminism
Posted by Marisa Black in Bodysex, feminism on March 28, 2012
[cross-posted here]
Many a writing teacher told me to limit my number of sentences and paragraphs beginning with “I.” Since posting here and at Dodson and Ross. I’ve tossed that directive aside, embracing I-statements wholeheartedly.
When people in my life learn about my writing here, the reactions are mixed. Some think I’m incredibly self-absorbed. (Why don’t you write about something other than yourself and what’s between your legs?) Some consider this blog a prime example of oversharing. (Seriously, who wants to read about your yeast infection?) Some caution me of the consequences. (You are shooting yourself in the foot, putting this all out there. You can’t take it back. You may regret this.) A few tell me I’m brave. Most think I’m slightly mad to disclose what I do here, especially since I gave up a pretense of anonymity.
What I do here may indeed be oversharing. And apparently I’m comfortable with that. Given the extreme proclivity in our culture to undershare, to shield, to hide oneself from others and even from self, I write here and at D&R as an exercise in truth-telling. I am looking in a mirror, and rotating so that you can see me looking, watching me watch myself.
Marking the Darkness, Marking the Light
Posted by Marisa Black in identity on December 23, 2011
[cross-posted here]
Tonight I’m relishing a sensation. It’s deeply rooted in my gut, the same place where the echoes of my orgasm reverberate in the bowl of my belly. Tonight’s feeling isn’t from orgasm. It is similar, however, being primal, older than language, shimmering under the surface of words.
Sometimes this feeling is fierce and comes like a jolt in my loins. Other times it is soft and languid, comfortable. Most often this belly-based feeling is familiar, in an elusive, smoky way. It carries with it the sense of ancient ways, of DNA linking backward and forward in time, a spiral that folds into and around itself, enveloping me in a cellular knowledge, outside my chattering brain.
Marking My Body With a Stamp of Love
Posted by Marisa Black in bodylove on September 3, 2011
[cross-posted here]
I gasped as the needle took its first bite. In an instant, I was propelled back eleven years, when I had last experienced this sensation. The stinging waves synced with the buzzing sound, and I was soon lulled into a headspace of surrender.
The Fulcrum
Posted by Marisa Black in Uncategorized on March 15, 2010
This is the point at which darkGreeny starts anew. The Ides of March, 2010.
Older pieces, appropriate for this space, will slowly appear below.
New things I’m writing and thinking about will appear above.
This is the fulcrum between what I was and what I am becoming.
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