Wow. That was pretty darn cryptic.
There is so much to say, so much to write about... and I know that hardly any of it will actually find its way onto this journal. So, we'll start with the easy stuff, and work our way down.
I have no more facial hair. Lolita has been wanting me shaved for a long time now, and it finally happened. Monica, aka my Uncle Nico Boy, took a straight razor to my face and in 10 minutes it was all gone. Taking things away right after...
...things were added. For years, I was trying to get my entire leather family together in one spot. When family members are in NYC, Seattle, San Jose and LA, that can be pretty tough. And it never happened. This weekend was in large part a memorial to Bear, my grandpoppa, and we all finally came together. On my right arm is now a fallen angel... I cannot think of a more perfect tribute to my Poppa Bear. Each of the family is in this cutting... each held the scalpel for their own contribution. My Mommy Cara designed the piece, and gave it her love. I will ensure that this is on my arm forever, as Bear is in me forever. Bear watched on through the entire cutting... in pictures staring at me, and from above. Bear - you always wanted to cut me. Now you have.
I experienced terrific hospitality from a pug, including 1st rate provisions in West Hollywood. I think pug was sufficiently thanked... as she will be purple for a long, long time.
My nephew Brian has made me an amazingly proud uncle. I am so happy you were able to enter the House of Consent. My family is made of wolves... so of course you fit right in. Seeing you growl down Topher is an image I'll keep with me for the rest of my life.
I love my faerie. I cannot say anything more. She is the perfect addition to my life.
I feel so much closer with my family. Monica and I bonded like we never have. I felt Sharrin's warmth spread over me, the to-be Santeria priestess dressed in white. The hug we shared, the white sheet seperating us, but not... I love my Momma Bear. So very much. Mommy - Cara is the most fabulous fag on the planet. Daddy - we looked into each others eyes... I am my Father's son. We shared our thoughts with Bear, and the same things that meant for her meant for me. Faye and I are of one piece of clay, as frightening as that may be.
Lolita - she knows me the best. My sister is truly that. Without her, I would not be. Simple as that.
Bear. Here is the bit that is going to make me cry. We celebrated Bear's life just as she would have wanted us to. To the sounds of New Orleans jazz, over glasses of over 40 year old port - as my Daddy Faye screamed, "Bear! We're drinking the good stuff!!!" We smoked Cubans, we shared memories. And... Bear's stuff was passed down. I'll make that a seperate post, so that I don't fry my computer with my tears right now. But I know this... Bear is in me. And she always will be. Bear... she KNOWS me. And I KNOW her.
I guess that is where I am right now. I am one with Bear. I don't miss her... I am with her.