 Photo: Riad Kund, My new Moroccan home. A Drag Queen is a queen who built her own crown out of her own blood, sweat, imagination & ingenuity. A master of making something out of nothing. This conjuring is an amazing power play.
There are no limits to what you can do or what your story will look like. If something feels beautiful, like sunshine on your face, you simply follow it. You don’t stop to ask others to weigh in or try to figure out how you’ll get it done or the safest way to go about it or a step by step master plan to get you there. You simply pack your bags, run towards the sunlight & figure out the rest later. I was raised in the wild by drag queens... queens wearing tatters convincing you they were monarchs. Weaving the story of their ascent in spite of the sprawling poverty of body, mind & spirit surrounding them. A cadre of pistol-packing southern belles, crossdressing-church-choir sinners, gay, straight & in between radicals tearing down bullshit that no longer served them. They were outcasts holding court in this new world they were creating. The lives they were crafting were rich in laughter, joy, a sense of rightness & a journey worthy of their delusions of grandeur. Delusions, they fiercely wove into realities by sheer dint of will. They forced the molecules to bend to their will. I was raised by these miracles of nature & thought them to be standard-issue genius. I had no idea how rare they are...I took them for granted until the world of breeders & the joneses halted me in my tracks & told me in no uncertain terms: You can’t just do only what you want to do. And in that moment, I distinctly heard a chorus of queens, howling: Fuck that. And I did. Join the DreamingMorocco Retreat🌀TheDreamUnLocked.com
0 Comments
|