Solnox Newsletter #6

rooting into spring (grief) and joy(hope?) and art and life.

May 21, 2023

Hello again,

[If you’re new here this is my quarterly newsletter that tries to go out ~around~ the seasonal solstices & equinoxes. Read on for reflections of the current season, the things I’m getting up to, and lots of recommendations of music, cool jobs & opportunities, articles & podcasts recs, and so much more! Be warned I am long winded— so peruse at your leisure.]

TLDR (Too Long Didn’t Read, or a helpful summary of What’s Below!)

Spring Cleaning: Searching for Hope
Workin’ it out: Stoke offerings + Calendar Prints!
Scribin’ & Vibin’
Monthly Jamz + 4 The Culture
Jobs + Opportunities (Yobs +Opps)

Spring Cleaning: Searching for Hope

This spring I have been feeling out of sync with the demands of the seasons, and the desires of my spirit. I’m sitting in the tension of full days and weeks but also having the desire to slow waaaaaay down and go inward this season. Maybe it’s my body telling me I still need something I didn’t fully get to nourish this winter, maybe it’s the pollen reminding me I’m allergic to the desert outside, and maybe it’s this eclipse season’s lessons still integrating. Probably a good mix of all of the above.

In this transitional season, it’s been grounding to reflect ~shoutout to this recent mercury retrograde~ on the ways spring can both remind me of my own aliveness, my deep capacity for awe and joy, and the deep well of hope that flowers provide as they continue to bloom, breaking through a winter’s cold once again. And yet, springtime in the desert can just as forcefully make me feel absolutely blown over by the winds of chaos and change, too unwieldy for any one person to hold.

This spring, I’m really sitting in the tension and balance of joy and grief.

On the one hand, I’m still trying to soak up every last drop of the magic and absolute glory that it was, to be able to celebrate the wedding of some dear beloveds, Tuck & Gabe. I’m thankful to have been there to be wrapped up in a spell of love, from such a beautiful weekend of celebrating trans love and community, and the power of queer trans existence. I’m holding on to the blessings and medicine that can be conjured for strength and hope, for days and worlds where me and my chosen families of queer trans fabulous weirdos get to be free: in our joy, and love, and aliveness, and in our dignity.

On the other hand, I’m trying to tend to this never ending grief for the worlds we are living in now. My heart is breaking at the violence that my beloved's face daily. I’ve been stewing with grief and rage at the fact that Adri, a human so dear to my heart, and someone who has shown up day after day, with so much love and joy and care for their entire community, was violently pulled and pinned down by DPS just for exercising their democratic rights. (If you’re able and want to support their recovery you can send some money here!) If we are not allowed to peacefully sing, organize, and be in joyful resistance together, to stand up for what we believe, and to stand up for trans-kids in Texas, then yes grief and rage can absolutely overshadow my hope.

My heart is breaking that everywhere we turn, there is such an immediate response of violence: just for being queer and trans, just for being kids, just for needing an abortion, just for being made poor, just for being an immigrant, just for being, just for… and on and on. My spirit is tired y’all.

A few months ago, I was co-facilitating a Stoke Collective workshop called ‘Grief and Resilience in our Social Movements’, and someone asked “How do we keep hope alive?” in this work. As I often do— I wanted to be the torch-bearer of hope in that moment. But something told me not to, something told me that maybe it's okay to not always have hope. I’m learning that, to do so— to not rush others towards hope— maybe we can make more space for grief, more space for grace, and more space for each other.

These days, and this legislative season especially, I’ve been having a hard time finding hope. For every reminder of our sacred wisdom and resilience and joy, there are just as many reminders of the hatred and fear being sharpened into weapons against us. In Texas alone, with 140+ Anti-LBGT bills, I’m finding it hard to know where to channel the waves of rage and frustration. (If you’re in Texas, or in any state with Anti-LGBT legislation on the doc right now, please get informed. Get involved. Get Organized. Call your reps and tell them we will not stand for this.)

My grief and rage can feel enormous, ancient, and foreboding, all at the same time. When I find it hardest to tap into the deep well of joy, hope and resilience that I know is there for me to call upon— and in that workshop, I shared/channeled/remembered: when I can't find hope I can always find community.

When I can't find hope, and when navigating uncertainty feels like tightrope walking over a sea of grief, I remember (or try anyways) to lean on the people in my many worlds that do have the capacity to hold up that touch of hope for me. When I've seen to misplace my own torch, I remember that grief and hope are a balancing act, and we can hold on to each other to see the way through.

Thanks for reading along, sending care + spring blessing~

Working it out: Vamos a Capacitarnos!

Recently, I’ve been lucky to be getting to dive deeper into questions of narrative and capacity, both at community and movement levels. Spiraling into questions of how I show up for social change and what our social movements are doing, how these networks can connect and shift.

Como nos capacitamos? How can we build our collective capacity? to be more rooted? more relational? more emotionally adept and aware? more creative and curious? How can we build our collective capacity to handle uncertainty and the quick slide into fascism that is happening all around us? How can we build up our collective capacity in our relationships, in our neighborhoods, in our movements?

I feel real lucky to have a crew of folks in the Stoke collective that I get to deepen into this question with often. One way that we’re actively trying to build our movements’ capacity is by deepening into conflict. This summer we’re offering a ‘Transforming Conflict Training’, it’s open to anybody who is interested in strengthening their ability to move through conflict in social change work in more relational and generative ways.

~Also unrelated art plug if you’re still looking for some birthday calendars I still got ‘em here and a couple of other prints too! (Apparently, there was an issue on my site that said they were not available, but alas they are not!) These are really a labor of love, locally printed with at the community studio, Risolana. If you are a fellow Risograph print nerd, keep your eyes peeled because I’ll be dropping some more Riso art soon.~

Scribin’ + Vibin’

For your viewing pleasure; Here’s a graphic recording that I had the joy of doing in with Katcher Consulting on the purpose and roles of Movement Networks. I am likely not taking on new clients for the rest of the year, but very excited about a very full year ahead of scribing adventures to share out with you all soon!