Check out the new contact information!

17 12 2010

Hey everyone!

 

Check out the new contact information. I’ll post it here as well.

 

paivakai@gmail.com

thebutchproject@gmail.com

 

 

The past e-mails have become overwhelmed with spam! Isn’t that always the way?

 

-K. Paiva

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More Pix!

23 09 2010

Michou Olivera

Thank you for always sending us awesome pictures, FeistyAmazon!





Butches/Bois/Studs & Appreciators Sending More Pics!

23 09 2010

Michou Olivera

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Me and My Boi”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FeistyAmazon at San Francisco Pride, 2005

 

 

 

 

 

Chelsea McCoy





Notice Her by L.S. Kove

30 07 2010

“Notice Her”

by L.S. Kove

.

.

Connected confusion,
Mixed up communication.
Don’t know where this all leads.
My emotion upon this page bleeds.
Don’t know where this will take,
What changes I must make.
Now I realized,
As I visualized.
There is a net effect,
Fear & reject.
Vulnerability tears onto this shredded soul,
It latches onto my ever expanding internal black hole.
Cannot help but think,
As my emotions dare to lower & ultimately sink.
Not your slip,
That it is you where I wish to be elbow to hip.
Another tender tale,
That is being absorbed by the ulcers within my entrails.
Normally there is not any discern,
Deep into the firmware of my heart she burns.
I try so hard,
To disregard.
There she is everywhere,
As I try to avoid even her remotest stare.
Then in my head,
It is overfed.
There we are,
In this vision we both star.
She is beautiful as we make love,
A brush here, a touch there, as we rise above.
Simply I cannot get an adequate sum,
Visions make the rest of my gray matter tattered & dumb.
See her,
Yearning to be with her.
Oh but at last she is with another,
The one she calls lover.
That is not me,
I’m not the one that she does see.
Just someone she does know,
That she could care less if I come or go.
Then there are those episodes,
When she does this touch making all my walls erode.
She has got to know how it makes me feel,
So slight, so soft, so sensual & I am a fish at the end of her reel.
I keep throwing those walls back,
Those images of her make my will power slack.
Yes she is playing games,
It is driving me absolutely insane.
Why can’t she utter to me?
Advise about what she really wants to see.
Why does she do that sensual touch?
Making me want her so damn much.
It has not been just a few,
She has got to know what this does do.
She is vastly intelligent,
My emotions are bent.
Not wanting to be her play toy,
Desiring to bring Ms. Coy everlasting joy.
Then there is the reality,
That she has a lover in actuality.
I don’t want her to cheat,
It is just not right to compete.
They are both awe-inspiring,
Neither for a new love should look at hiring.
Yet here I am as she melts my walls,
Turning me into her little ball.
Just as she plays,
My mind fades into a total haze.
See her,
Ah to be one with her.
I just don’t know,
Need to let go.
Even though I keep trying,
My heart is gone & of this there is no denying.
Why did I have to thrust?
Into the deepest love & never ending lust.
I know that I must walk,
Then those things we both work on we often must talk.
Even when we are both trying to be logical & cold,
Something begins to unfold.
We are fighting these mutual desires.
While we are both feeling the intensity of blazing fires.
How do we turn this into terrible?
Making our drives ineligible.
Then comes her subtle touch.
Making me want to rip her clothes off so very much.
Those lips that I want to kiss,
An experience that I’ve never had yet so profoundly miss.
This is so wrong,
Yet for her I long.
Why does she play?
Why does she want me to stay?
What is going on in her mind?
Why does she touch me all the time?
I never see her do this to anyone other than me.
What is that touch supposed to be?
Is it just affection?
Or is she using it as a way to capture my attention.
Notice her,
As my mind melts into a dire blur.
If only I could forget,
But that touch it will not let.
To be subjugated by both our walls,
Try as I do still it is not small.
I want to get past,
Yet these longings still last.
As it becomes a big blur,
All I can do is notice her.




Terms and Titles: Doing us in or doing us justice?

24 06 2010

Hey all!

This is Kai (formerly Kay) Paiva. I was e-mailed recently by someone who raised a good point. He asked whether I felt that, a project like this promoted more disunity by the fact that it keeps subdividing groups of people. Shouldn’t we all just try to accept one another regardless? Why even have labels? Is this project more destructive than helpful? Though these are not questions he specifically asked, they are topics that are raised. And, similar to him, I have many friends and acquaintances who feel the same way — labels should be abolished, we would do better without them, things that divide us further cannot be good for the future of the community or humanity. Though I completely understand the approach to these thoughts and feelings, I disagree. I would like to share the e-mail response I sent him. So, if people are curious as to how I view identity, how this project is helpful, or how labels or terms may provide for community, then they may be able to see a glimpse of my thought process. I, however, understand that both sides of this are necessary. And completely respect everyone’s right to their opinion.

.

.
I live in a community where the deconstruction of labels is the utmost priority. But, at some point – I feel like I need a community that I can call my own, that I can fall back and relate to. I often find this similar to being Hispanic. A lot of non-Hispanic white people may say, “Don’t you think by establishing these boundaries you’re self-segregating?” But, the truth is — it’s a different culture. It’s a different way of living. Like being Hispanic, being butch, for me, has been a struggle in the community I was raised. And, once again, these two major identities have led me to feel as though labels may be necessary in defining safe spaces that we call our own. Presenting masculinely within the LGBT community as a female-bodied person presents issues. And, yes, I am using a narrow word. But, butch/boi/stud are lifestyles that hold a lot of similarities and a lot of camraderie. To diminish those, for me, would be similar to diminishing ethnic terms. It’s where I’ve came from, it’s what I’ve always been. And, in a world that is telling me to be whiter, richer, more feminine — they are identities that I’ve learned to thoroughly embrace.
.
The U.S. can be called “The Melting Pot,” which I find many people would like to do with any terms or identities that relate to gender. But, the truth is, I would rather have it be referred to as a stew. Blending everyone together/having no boundaries may create more acceptance — but with what risk? Of becoming all the same? Of losing that part of ourselves that we loved so much to claim?

.
The truth is, boundaries, labels, and limitations do create a way to foster community. I do not want to exclude anyone with this project. Whoever would like to identify as stud, butch, or boi is more than welcome. I don’t care who they are, where they’ve come from; I don’t care if they didn’t start to identify until they saw me looking for submissions for this project. It’s completely of their own accord. Identity is who we understand ourselves as and I would never want to take that away from anyone. Though labels, for you and many others, may seem exclusive or limiting… others see as freeing. In that space, they can be who they are. That is how I feel around a group of people who boldly and bravely claim themselves as stud, boi, or butch. It’s an attitude and a lifestyle that is greatly lacking in this area. It is like a family that I’ve lost. If people need to keep sub-dividing to a place that is finally somewhere they can call their own, somewhere they feel they are meant to be — then it is necessary. It’s an area that gives one another consensual validation. And, in the media world of people constantly trying to tell us who we should be, small communities are necessary, along with the invitation of allies. Because, even if our entire small community is accepting of who we are, there are going to be places and people who do not accept us, who tell us to be something different. And, in that moment, you want to be with someone who can empathize and understand. People need consensual validation.

.

.

Discussion Questions (only to raise thoughts, not to imply negative feelings or disagreement):

-Are labels only divisive?

-How do you identify? Are any of these labels? Would you be upset if someone did not recognize you as one of these identities? (Examples of possible identities: female, male, genderqueer, trans, mother, father, adopted, black, hispanic, lower class, Catholic, lesbian, butch, femme, student, professional, expert, executive, spiritual, child, aunt/uncle, eneagram types, Myer Briggs personality types, artist, graduate, disabled, Hindu, etc. etc. etc.)

-Is the dismissal of terms or labels possible in modern society? In future society? Or, only in an ideal society? Would you want this dismissal?

-If there were no longer terms or labels, would it be socially acceptable for people who have gone through abuse, traumatic experiences, overcome illness, etc. to identify themselves as “survivors”? Putting yourself in their shoes, would you want groups that only consisted of survivors? Or should everyone be allowed at all points?

-Are community forums, groups, anthologies, histories/herstories, projects, etc. helpful or hurtful to society if they divide people by labels? For sex? For gender? For race? For ethnicity? For class? For health issues? For “social positions” (ie mother, etc)?

Some things to think about!

.

.

.

BUTCHlove.






Baby Butch: A Love Letter From the Future, by Melissa Sky

29 05 2010

baby butch: a love letter

from the future
.     .     .    .    .

this is a love letter

from the future

baby butch
<br>

a lingering kiss

blown from a space that exists

where butch

is not an insult

for a girl
<br>

consider this

an enlivening embrace

from a time you will find

where the word—butch–is mouthed

with reverence

and longing
<br>

right now

i know

you don’t know

can’t know

your own power

your different beauty

the resplendent, dazzling joy that awaits you

once you find us

the women who will look at you

with awe

with envy

with desire
<br>

right now

in these first terrifying forays into

exploring how male you might want to be

when your uncle asks
“why would you do that to yourself?”

when the saleslady says

“sir, or m’am or whatever you are”

know that we are here

waiting

wet

wanting you

wanting precisely what confounds and unnerves them

in the future

women will thrill to

such exceptional and exquisite contradictions
<br>

trust me

when you meet us

see for yourself the way

our eyes widen, our breath catches

at the mere way you walk into a room

the way you hold yourself in the world

it will no longer matter so much

not when you know us

feel the way

our tongues taste, our thighs open

for the way you transgress the lines daily
<br>

trust yourself

your secret subterranean visions

dye your hair purple, pierce your eyebrow, put on the tie

one day

i tell you

one day

baby butch

a rocking hot woman

will use that tie deftly on you

creating knots that would put the boys scouts to shame

and you’ll see what power looks like

in black stockings and 4 inch heels

she will give you things

you don’t know

yet

that you want

and that woman

she will

whisper, whimper, sigh

shriek, croon, sob, guffaw, chant and cry out

thank you

thank you

thank you baby butch

for having the courage

to withstand their acrid stares

to contravene their assumptions for you

to become the complex, competent, confident woman

you are already well on your way to becoming
<br>

for all the ardent femmes of your future

our latent lover

thank you

thank you for allowing us to be

for me to be

over you, under you, beside you, twisted around you, inside you, upside down on the playground monkey bars at midnight with you

but mostly

under you

oh goddess

under you

with your biceps straining and your eyes flashing

that look that screams

woman

you don’t even know the things I’m about to do to you
<br>

and you’ll ask her to take it

and she will

she will open and open and open

to levels of openness she didn’t even know existed within her

and together you will smash through limits, transcend boundaries, freefall from the edge and arrive panting and spent in evocative territories unsuspected and staggering

<br>

then do it all again tomorrow morning

disregarding the 6 o’clock alarm

so she has no time to straighten her hair

and all day at work, she flashes back to why

the sweet, sweet why
<br>

you will learn how to fuck her

with finesse

hard and precise

careful not to mess up the hairdo she spent 20 minutes perfecting

you will learn to unhook a lacy push up bra with one hand

to manage tiny clasps as she holds up her hair for you to place jewelry about the exposed curve of her neck

to place your hand at the small dip of her back as she sways in kick ass come fuck me boots down the street

to relish the sound of unzipping her dress, letting it fall to floor and following its delicious descent yourselves
<br>

just wait

when you see yourself reflected in their eyes with distortion, with contempt

remember there will be women who see you

fully embracing everything they scorned as

wrong, ugly, unworthy, disgusting

<br>

don’t believe them

<br>

know that one day you will walk by those same boys

with a woman on your arm so luscious

so succulent in her sexiness that it will drip from

your arm

casually slung across her shoulder

her ass

making music in her jeans

they will stare after you like ravenous dogs

sniffing forlornly at the bitch that got away

they’ll scuffle and stare in disbelief

that you, somehow, you got the girl

<br>

there’s a little somethin somethin to contribute to your swagger

baby dyke

yearning for things only vaguely conceptualized

<br>

in the words of a stranger

who is your long lost foremother

you will learn in time to

“follow the scent of a woman

melon heavy ripe with joy

inspiring [you] to rip great holes in the sky”
<br>

the future

wants to fuck the shit out of you

baby butch

so hold on

the ride is just beginning

and it will rock you

<br>

we’re waiting

<br>


<br>

<br>

Melissa Sky





Butchy Pictures!

29 05 2010

Here are a few photos I’ve received for building community and butch-representin’ through the facebook group! More to come!

Do you have some pictures that you think show “butch”?

Submit them! thebutchproject@gmail.com