kawaburd: (pic#9957102)
It's been a month and a day since I put on this mask, pulled out of the void by a particular song played in a moment of raw, trusting vulnerability. That long since setting in a motion a shift in my perspective that led to a natural, 'right' feeling not just in following and befriending dragons but becoming one myself.

I've realized by now, this is not the first time I've seen it and the raw creative power within it, rather the third. Excuse me if my prose is a little frenetic, a little paradoxial, but this is a tale I spin by mere existence, and my life is one of many stories that gives it strength.

In this moment I live speak on wire from a true rainforest, a land of near-constant clouds, and trees as far as the eye can see. The ability to come here in the first place was secured by someone with which I'd shared an abusive relationship for years, only for the tools to escape it to be provided by someone who I've only recently learned was a rapist. From hellfire to hellfire and back out again. I've been scorched, lied to, screamed at, manipulated by the people I cared about the most, while at the same time assisted, consoled and sheltered by them enough to find some identity and flair in my own right. I've gone from coming within a hair of being a father, through blatant lies and misplaced trust, to fast becoming a woman in all senses of the word, through support of a truly caring community and my body gently leading me to what I feel is right.

I once felt like I've wasted a large chunk of my life feeling trapped in the run down casino town where I was born and raised, shifting from having wanted to become a park ranger to hearing stories of my roommate's family's shenanigans in the very places I'd intended to guide tourists through, with year after year in between wasted wheeling books around in a little warehouse only a couple miles and a short hike away from where I'd found the mask in the first place.

I watched the furry community in Reno grow from next to nothing to staffing, helping set up, and experience the first iteration of the fastest-growing, hype-heavy con in the whole damn fandom, only to leave and later realize there were literally only two other people I could've sustained any real connection with had I tried harder, one of which had all but vanished for most of my time there, to watching the remnants of my presence fade to tiny threads and nothing more, not even a year after I left.

And these days? I live with a kind-hearted man who plays classic bollywood hits in the living room, plays on and rebuilds computers from before even the Commodore days, and love an equally kind-hearted chemist who likes classic 40s movies and Jeff Rosenstock. I've found family, love, and support here, in a way I've heard another of us literally call "draconic values", though the real meaning is never set in stone. I'm on a monogamous edge of a four-way relationship, friends drawn close, the sensual dances to me simply another form of communication, sharing, and all of us in full agreement doing our own takes on the side. And since finding a life this nice, I feel drawn to sharing it as best I can and helping others find their own, however I can.

There is so much more I could tell you, but if nothing else, I have several things up my sleeve that you won't find in many people, and a combination of strange circumstances that you won't find with anyone else, period. It's the experiences and the stories. The ones I write, the ones I live, and the ones I see and read that give Vanadis hir true power, and through that, myself as well. I'm a storyteller, a creator, a performer.

I'm here to perform, here to share, and even if it's, at it's most basic level, an act, there's a little more to it. You're gonna see me liken wearing a dragon to being a dragon. Sie's a role, a facet, but within those threads... sie is me. This is how I see my identity.

I'm not sure what's to become of the little gryphon girl. She's well liked by people in her own right, and she is just as much me, in a subtler, perhaps less artificial, contrived way. She's not going to be consumed by the mask, but rather the host that carries, wears and nurtures it. As to what that entails, that remains to me seen.
kawaburd: (Default)
Sorry to start this whole thing with something heavy, but I don't think I'd be using a site like this otherwise.

For most of the past month I've been dwelling on what some things mean to me. Magic and otherkin at the forefront, ambitions, emotions and the circle I've sailed into surrounding that. I've been playing this game literally for 14 years now, nearly half my life, but I've had some old spirits, so to speak, crop up with an intensity that almost scares me.

I feel like my higher self is trying to tell me something. Either a lesson or a quest, maybe both. For most of the past month it's hijacked my bodily perception. Since Christmas I've been a dragon. That cute little featherfluff in my icon? Hardly seen hide nor hair of her since.

I'm not really sure why, but there's something in that I feel a potent fear in facing. Hands shake and typing becomes a challenge. I need to explain, I view dragons as creatures with truly immense creative power. In my eyes they, we, ARE creative power. Kawa's still in here, waiting for me to finish whatever it is I need to do, but she's stepped back and bowed down. I've been trying to make sense of this awhile now. Why is sie watching me, waiting, trying to console me? Why am I watching, waiting, trying to console myself?

It feels almost like... I'm starting to acknowledge how much power there truly is in my words, my pens, my paintbrushes. And the idea of using it in any truly focus, deliberate way scares me. But it's not just drawing, it's performance.

It's a familiar thing in LaVeyan Satanism. Those faithful believe in neither gods nor devils but perform the ritual anyway for the emotional effect. For the theatrics. They see the power in it. So do I.

Sie playfully, calmly, encourages me to wear hir like a coat. To take up the scales and the horns willingly, bring them to a con, and make people smile, becoming both performer and performance. I want to. I really do, so then what's trying to hold me back... Vanadis? What's really going on here? And why does it feel like impostor syndrome?

...I'm going to find out. I have to. But . . . how?

And how comfortable am I, truly, with people actually calling me Vanadis, even temporarily?

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