Doves and Drag Queens

Usually where I THINK I am going, is not where I am going. I carry a compass with me at all times, but mostly it is just for show. I still get lost exactly where I am supposed to be. Take this blog post for example. I was looking for images of doves because that was what I THOUGH I wanted to express today. I was mistaken. The real revelation is that I am a drag queen. Now to those who know me, especially bibically, may protest with the obvious facts... "Uhm your female... I have checked."

So let me explain.

I originally started out musing about the two doves that landed on my alchemical arch today. I was watching them and I was pondering the implications of the Logos landing squarely in the middle of severity and mercy. Pretty deep. Then when I started looking for the pictures of doves, I found a local Empire group that I had been loosely associated with years ago. Friends of friends and good folks all around. As I checked out the pictures suddenly I was face to face with glorious, fabulous, in your face pictures of exquisite drag queens. Gods I love them so.

In my day to day professional life I tend to be more of a jeans, steel toe and t-shirt sort of gal assuming that I am wearing anything at all. Then all of a sudden, I get the wild urge to dress up. When I do, it is never just a bit of spiffying here and there. Oh no, it is a full on drag queen transformation. When I did renaissance faires I was never happy unless mine was a bright and shiny silk and velvet to die for dress with my cleavage tucked neatly under my chin. If I was going to bother to do it, I wanted to take your breath away. I know that corset took mine away. Least I digress.

So what I was pondering was the joy and sadness of it all. In my family my first memories of drag queens were my uncle and grandfather dressing up for Halloween. The fishnets with pelts and mustaches are burned into my memory. At my grandfathers memorial it was one of my most favorite pictures. Since I came from a family of theatre folks I eventually saw a much more glorious version. No one does bling like a queen. When I major in theatre costuming with physics, my horizons broadened even more. Not like I needed much broadening with my family... though least I digress.

When I started this pondering I thought "oh this is very much magick." It is causing change to come into your universe. If you have ever seen what they go through to transform you will realize that it is as alchemical as anything we do. It just doesn't last as long. Then it occured to me that the inside and the outside don't match all the time and that must be a deep and burdening sadness. I chose the jeans and t-shirt, my dear friends did not chose their path intentionally. At the end of the evening and under the make up we are what we are. Then I realized that this is precisely the burden of magickal transformation on our mundane lives.

No matter what sort of odd bit I am wrestling with magickally, my job is just not going to understand. The most understanding of bosses is just not going to understand calling in with "inititory issues". So we stretch the truth to fit into someone elses paradigm. We lie in order to tell the truth. We omit so that we don't have to explain. We live boldly in silence. Yes I think that I am every bit a drag queen.

So I am off to live boldly in the craft room for a few minutes. I am almost sure that I hid some silk and a tiara in there....