Hi best beloveds, This is just a quick note to let you know you can listen to me chat with The Nasiona’s Julián Esteban Torres López about prison, and how social problems spiral into the system where they multiply and spiral out. There’s a few rambles about Big Data, abolition, and the legal slavery of prison labor. (Search for “The Nasiona” on Google, Apple, or … Continue reading podcast: prisons and bigger things
Hi best beloveds, This is just a quick note to let you know you can listen to me chat with Britt about forgiveness, blogging, prison, and life. (Search for “Love Your Enthusiasm on Google, Apple, or Spotify. Or click the image above to be taken to the site.) If you have time to listen, I’d love to know what you think. Are you a fan … Continue reading podcast: forgiveness, etc
These are some prison vignettes, themed around incomplete and uncomfortable memories that swim around my head sometimes. I guess this a trigger warning, but the topics are so varied and layered that I’m not even sure what I’m warning you about. I love you, though– so take care of you. xo,Ra There’s a knocking at my door and a head pops in. “Hey Ra, someone … Continue reading i get it
My family is a medley of cultures so I have no idea when a household tradition sources back to a specific region of the world, or it’s something they made up. There’s many I stopped practicing over the years, and many I have brought to my own home as law. My least favorites are all the ones about how to rest a broom, and when … Continue reading surplus
As time happens, I encounter more and more people who think prison is a metaphor I fold into my writing. In a way, this makes sense. It was hard for people to imagine me in prison, even when I was there. And everyone knows, I love a good metaphor. Metaphors are my first language, the master key that could smuggle my truths out of one … Continue reading rainbow enough
This was written November 27th, 2014 from the California Institute for Women, from room 136– the cell without a mirror or light, or doorknob, where I spent my Thanksgiving. I had a window, though, and the room to myself– and it was a lovely place to write. Some of you may remember this, as it was posted once before. I had to remove it almost … Continue reading a little step
My favorite perfume sinks into my skin like a snowflake. It smells like the city at three in the morning– tall skyscrapes and neon moongods and the husky solos of midnight natures. It suits me, but not most people. It’s soft on me, but strong enough that I leave it behind in homes and arms I’ve rested in. It never really smells as gentle on … Continue reading fancy nights
When I was a kid, I was ready for lava. I would leap from chair to table, rescuing my home from its ashen fate in the heated unstoppable ooze. It was a game, I suppose, but to me, it was preparation. When I was a kid, I was afraid of the substances that could kill you in an instant. The creatures that could snap away the … Continue reading the floor is
rarasaur 