Feminism or FAWK

If I admit my fear in the question am I a feminist, does that make me weak or strong? I changed the blog header from futuristic NUDY to seeking the low ~ that contains my answer.

First, sex. Expanding my heart as a futuristic NUDY means bringing sensual & sexual public healing centerstage. Petrified with delight to give my life over to this. Butt…blogging is on hold. Why? It’s overtime on my big push to move out of Brooklyn.

I face the danger of compromise if I stay here much longer. Yet Brooklyn gave me time away from the usual so my inner ear could attune. Listening is the entire point of championing NUDY. I listned to my suffering here. Five years and I’m house mom, kitchen manager, and compassion companion to the old folks.

Second, the “second sex” aka the reason for feminism. Bottom line — I’m grateful for it. The big F! Without it, we’d still have open date rape in the workplace. Don’t waste your time commenting the contrary because that story is in my family. I know its effects.

Yet if I were to cling to an attitude of feminism forever, I’d be wasting my time in mental hell. Everything changes. Feminism must change but what exactly is that change? Could it be FAWK? The new F in my Life!

FAWK is a kindness of faith ~ that war of the sexes abates if the inate genius of every human is attended to. If we forgive what we made in collective hell. I imagine fawking forgiveness as the anti-battle cry in a waging peace between cis males and cis females.

To forgive is to yield ~ to seek the low. The heart yields. Nothing to prove. Nothing producing a very rich inner field.

I stumbled upon a concept today I had never heard — benevolent feminism. In a nutshell, it seems to be attitudes of putting women on pedestals can be problematic. Paradoxically, yes it can. But what tears the pedestal down? Listening, patience, understanding, forgiveness. All receptive, yin, feminine qualities we amplify within our individual energy field if we only…

FAWK. Deeply listen. Bringing contemplation of the sexual, bringing forgiveness into sex as foreplay…oh fawk me! I must move so these tools may begin! I must change. I must answer back to my fear am I ready to FAWK?

{seek the low}

Yielding is not weak, it is strong. Water appears weak but penetrates rock. The low point of a forest is wet, damp, dark just like the womb, the pussy field where all human life begins. Low is quiet. Quiet draws within. If I draw you within me, our bodies melding, your member or your hand welcomed inside me, exploring my ribbed inner canyons, is this shared vulnerability of ours a worthy risk? Weak in the knees as shared power? Can we listen to that richness and hold it?

Feminism had to sweep in because men were conditioned to compromise their heart genius thus squander true richness: holding up women as dynamically different AND equal. How can a man value tenderness and hold it in highest esteem if he cannot hear his own screams of pain? Enter FAWK. Because (cis) man and woman can learn and change. I used to fear asking men to change. FAWK is changing this fear in me. {Feminists everywhere, I’m not sorry for being human but I am now catching up. Marie thanks every wave of you and so do I.}

My bottom line (my B-Side in Pussy General): Feminism must be willing to change as we FAWK or else there’s endless war and that’s not a future vision I’m willing to hold. Fawking forgiveness is my new feminism.

Paradox to the max — I had to become the epitomy of what many feminists abhor (Brooklyn housewife energy) to uncover my feminine strength (soft) thus open my heart to be unapologetic in my new desire to FAWK and give NUDY to men! TBC…

I am cosmic portal ~ enter me NUDY. Seek the low, yield, heed softness. Change. And thrive.


Do you have a mother in your memory field who might be called infamous? I’ve never birthed human children, never been pregnant, but I am a mother. An infamous mother.

A peace friend I know, my mentor, she gave me awareness of an archaic book The Pregnant Virgin. Virginal means whole unto self. This goes for mothers and any pussy that has been sexed. Any BODY for that matter! But to live that freedom as a vagina is to step off the edge of cultural and tribal support. For instance…

To answer your question, Mr. Curious Comment, is my pussy well used? I don’t know. If my mind was stunted but the sex felt great, what does that mean? If I could be daring in my baring but stifled in my desire body – denying the pleasure pain cycle all the while opening UP to the electricity of intimacy enfleshed – what is that?

I call it a paradox. Done calling it a damn shame. Actually, I never called it that. But what else is there to hear when listening at the rail of those closest to me? What else does their summation pronounce? Did anyone ever dare to bare their uncomfortablity, laugh through the awkward, and just…start a conversation with me?

I ask with curiosity and compassion because I’ve skipped starting conversations. I’ve skipped wearing a bra, underwear. I’ve skipped meals for sake of beer drinking. I skipped questions of self. Take motherhood. { } Let’s skip that some more! Here’s my punchline…

If mother ideal is loving, if mother unreal is frightining, who is mutha NUDY and what is her Mutha Position cosmic breast feeding? Infamous.

That’s all I can bear, sorry for the slim feel of my writing lately. I have been volunteering in a mother type thing, and as truly important as that work is, I had to extricate myself OUT to return to Fawk. New Earth Mothers are really worthy of getting to know because they look to the future. A future AWAY from conventional soul killers. Good infamy! But mothers who dare to bare who might be swayed to give NUDY need my attention much more and so I quit those worthy committees.

Back to YOU.

Here’s to giving more! Living free and INFAMOUS! (To be continued…)

My mentor mutha Burnie

P.S. write away your comments, please. I am not posting them because regretfully, I don’t have the capacity psychologically until I have a smidge more support. I went down many a hot road unprepared and unsupported and I’ve learned my lesson well. I yearn to give more fully to you. Thank you ~

Future Sex Risk

What does sex of the future resemble? That’s the subject of my current memoir manuscript. I’ll know when I go, so ask me in December. (NaNoWriMo you rock.)

I’ve risked absolutely everything (graphic uncredited)

Graphics like these stir the pot of dissatisfaction, and that’s not helpful enough. So why share it? Because sex falls into a rut in long term relationships. Taking a risk to shift it, spilling a long held secret, yeah, that’s why it’s worth posting. To put risk in our face.

Risk. We must take more of them. My idea of risk in sex isn’t will I fall in love, will it be an orgasm from the beyond? Hey, those are pretty amazing risks!

BUTT it’s not the risk in NUDY. Sex of the future? Not sure. (Yet.) Sex RISK of the future? Doing it in the gift frequency, the open-hearted genius where giving and receiving are ONE. If one partner shifts to the gift and the other doesn’t…that’s risk.

Sorry, George Jetson. Doing it in your radium powered flying cars does sound cool. I’ll take doing it for the Footies on stage in the mission stadium. NUDY of course. Thrilling, passionate NUDY. How about you? What is sex risk future anything for you?

P.S. NUDY is not dominance but it is submission ~ oceans of words to discuss with you but I beg patience, trusting you with my soul is the ultimate risk and I am working up to give it

Going Commanda

Dear Lavi Angel,

I’ve had back-to-back funerals so sorry for the delay in writing. It’s high time I threw my own funeral wake so here goes…

My desire is to serve vets, to commanda men (the cis-male johnson!), and to guide humanity to give NUDY. And to wear Italian underwear. That is not a typo. Underwear! Lingerie! A brazier for fawk’s sake! Not seen on me since my pit-bull rugby girlfriend days with GiGi circa 2003.

Commanda – also not a typo. Soldiers answer to the Commander in Chief, but Footies answer to unity. Unity is the heart. The heart is within, it’s Commanda. Pussy General of yore had all her stage play Footies going Commanda – what underwear?! – never commando because we emphasize the divine feminine in the mission. All Footies are Commandas yet until this latest funeral I couldn’t quite reach why.

Death has the ultimate advantage of a certain kind of finality. You and I believe in the infinite. To quote Prince on the afterlife that’s a mighty long time, but that formerly known artist, well, I don’t buy his througline. In this life, ARE we on our own? If we drop into the heart and…

There, next to a casket, I listened. Are we really alone? What am I fearing?

Shhhhhh, listen…..the answer yielded. (Christ, the chicken tits in me is afraid to be thrown out of the family for giving NUDY, please strengthen me. Ameyn.)

What on earth am I waiting for??! Go Commanda and go home! Drop D Footie! Kneel NUDY, drop into the heart, listen! The heart serves all. The heart is in you. Me, all of us! So, let’s serve Commanda. Serve the heart, serve each other – listen. With or without underwear who cares as long as we’re caring.

It was a blast wearing my white fishnet crotchless stockings and flossing with a lock of my bush hair back in the day. Oooh, those white-hot stage lights. The pussy is the quintessential black box theater! And even though I still spin around on my motorcycle stage chair, I’m done spinning my wheels.

I’m willing to die to this old self. Be a much better guide to fawk, to NUDY. A sex forgiveness mission doesn’t spring up on its own. Well, crotchless might spring something up. I hardly feel ready yet if I’m able, it doesn’t matter. Death is certain so let’s go. Give those Italian creamy white lace panties a go and let me die a thousand times from embarrassment until FAWK shines on my face with ecstasy and innocence of the Infinite.

I’ve gone Commanda so I know I want this.

Chicken tits, you got to go.  

the Commanda’s seat


The english definition of precarious has many parts. The Pussy General focuses on just one.


My uncertainty in fawk is my foundational faith to see it through. If I knew what to do, I wouldn’t go. The investigator walking the mutative path cannot know beforehand which experiment will be the one adopted by the collective. She must follow her inner direction and tinker around and wait. Patiently.

I love not needing to be certain ~ like the wind blowing a leaf! Where will it land? Why should it care. Life is lived in the wind’s caress and the sensousness of the world. To be fully present in a touch, a feeling…

All certainty blows away when humbled to my knees, accepting power’s humility in this Now moment. To face uncertainty, forgive what I don’t know and just GO! Because I only know death is certain so fawk the rest and live in the wind…that’s the danger I like that I live for.

Blow with me?

What move can I make to bring pink panties to life in this pussy box?

Sleeping with the Job

When I was a young maiden, sex was never spoken about yet never was NOT the driving force of our Catholic community life.

Now that I have become the maiden crone, I am the driver. And having sex for Life is becoming my driving source.

Sleep I must to allow Grace to enter M.E. fully (Mutha energy) and thus transform my shadow mind from ditch sex sadness into heart orgasmic thrusts. Being aware of oneness…

…that’s the job I want.

MILF pre-reconciled

Wonderful success, we are still here. Deep contemplation brings deep satisfaction and if you are reading, please soak that in.

Really, would you drink that in with me? I’d love that, thank you.

Because startups are crazy wild difficult in the beginning.

But MILF? What you know….it’s not what I know. The hot knots of that acronym are not anywhere in my body because I have never put a child on the earth through my blessed pussy. And what gets said about a mother is every point of the spectrum. Only knowing is truth.

Would you stand on an edge with me and fall off? Know something deeper? Because I’d love to feel and hear a different mood and tone within the mission walls of what MILF stands for and under the Pro-Mission Protected vibration. Ready?

MILF = Mutha in Loving Fawk

Mutha is Open Blouse position and FAWK is forgiveness. Let’s forgive our inner mother through our NUDY heart and all cum/come home happy esctactic. Anything else is a tire emergency that never feels better. FAWK is bold security ~ the cosmic mutha’s embrace.

Thank you for your patience. It’s a high holy woman’s birthday in my lineage ~ submitting to my sexual work in the face of all things conservative is still a wild precarious ride. (Thus the pre-pre-pre campaign jitters…this ain’t FAWK yet, much MUCH more on MILF to come, pre-come reconciled NOW.)

Mutha birthing wild in the forest of your mythic journey

Thank fawking goddess, we’re moving

Would you laugh if I said I feel like the Girl Who Cried Pussy? That’s a twist on the boy who cried wolf Aesop fable, where a boy pretended a wolf was at the door so many times in provocative jest, that when the REAL wolf came, nobody believed him.

If you opened this email — because you subcribed to my Pussy General blog a long, long time ago, then THANK YOU. This tiny little hello again, world, blog post is to let you know I healed my heart and got my shite forgiven and in good enough shape to call you back in. Here’s the Cat Signal!

the Moving cat signal

My real name is Mary Jane. I’ve been living in Brooklyn for five years. I birthed the racaous Pussy General onto a black box theater stage in Atlanta GA January 2011. Then I collapsed. Refused to quit. Drug the P’General around hoofed over my shoulder like a wounded soldier. Then carried her to safety by dying all over again to my inner self. That’s a dramatic way of sharing…

I surrendered to getting quiet, contemplating, becoming really gentle with my life pain. Contemplation worked. My heart has healed to the point of BEGIN AGAIN!

Pussy General is my soul work, LISTENING within is my Life Work. I do what I do to serve the Cosmic Mutha. (Mother) Bold Listening is Real Security and I’m thrilled to my future NUDY silk strapped white corsets and hose to begin work again!

So, no more crying Wolf. (Unless I’m in theatrical NUDY monologue mode.) Time to shout Pussy from the bottom of the ditch’a with such reverb it POOF builds you a hot plank to run that burning butt over!

There’s just one thing…the hot art always comes before any hard plans. I created our blog header tonight, and that’s all I can do. If you don’t hear from me in a week, hey, I cried pussy again. Butt…if you see M.E. pop up again within seven days? WE ARE ON NUDY FAWK FIRE and my heart is bursting for you.

All my love and peace


P.S. I’ll have more concrete info posted on THEATRICS very soon, would you please check back? I appreciate you