My past weekend was... a lot. I... -closed a show on Sunday night (Dracula, a bloody good time) -attended a funeral -officiated another funeral -and was formally installed as the Affiliated Community Minister of my congregation. On Monday, I went straight into tech week for the next show. In the middle of all this, I’m…
Sanctuaries and Citadels
I’m a stained glass artist. When people ask what I do, I sometimes joke that I "play with broken glass." It’s a flip-sounding line for a deeply intentional art form. The truth is, when I break a sheet of glass, I do so with immense care. My cutter, slick with special oil, scores a precise…
On Usefulness and Belonging
There is an expensive lesson that life offers, and I wish I’d had the currency to afford it sooner. It’s this: it is a profound waste of your finite time, energy, and spirit to court the approval of people who only value your utility. For most of my life, I have existed on the periphery.…
Chronically Extra
Last Friday, I was living my best life, hosting our congregation's very first drag show. I looked FABULOUS. My makeup was gagging. My hair was hairing. And I was, yet again, draped in a cloud of Betsy Johnson designed baby pink tulle and pastel rainbow crinolines – yes, my wedding dress made yet another real…
Drag Queens, Unicorn Snot, and Holy Moments
One of the oldest members of our congregation, a wise and wonderful woman in her 90s, pulled me aside after our worship service this past Sunday. Her eyes were bright. “I've always believed the saying that the arc of the moral universe is long, but it ultimately bends towards justice,” she said, her voice steady.…
I Really COULD Care Less
Yeah, I know. The phrase is I really COULDN'T care less. I get it. It's a grammatical pet peeve of mine too. The "typo" is intentional. Believe me, there really ARE times when you could care less than you do. I've been learning that lesson for the past year or so. About a year ago…
The Incredible Un-Forever
Why "the end" isn't a dirty word...
The Unbearable Necessity of Zuckerberg’s Wasteland
Right. Let's just get this over with. Guess who crawled back to Zuckerberg this morning..... Against my better judgment, and with a level of profound irritation I usually reserve for politicians explaining tax cuts for the obscenely wealthy, I am reactivating my Facebook account. For those of you who followed my rather pointed departure back…
The Glorious Art of Napping in a Dumpster Fire
Right? Just… right? If you’ve recently found yourself staring blankly at your phone, possibly wondering if you accidentally subscribed to a 'Daily Dose of Global Despair' newsletter you don’t remember signing up for, feeling like you’ve run an emotional marathon sponsored by existential dread… hello, kindred spirit. Welcome. We have stale virtual coffee and collectively…
Send the Fire
Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was 19 years old and in a ska band. Once upon a time, I played horn in a ska band called Five Bucks Short. Once upon a time, I played horn in a Christian Ska Band called Five Bucks Short, and it was our mission…
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