Tag: generosity

Chapter Seventy-Five – King of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

The sky was the depth and wonder of black velvet.

The air around me was filled with the promise of something wonderful. It had taken me a week to make my costume. I was going as Demeter and Rhonda was dressing as a succubus. We had found my wig at the Zesty Mart on Bank Street; it had a good selection of stuff for Halloween costumes. The wig looked like real hair, and it gave me a black bob. It made me look older than I was. I had done my own makeup and had given myself blue shadowy eyelids and dramatic cheekbones.

I had found a long bolt of blue cloth and had arrange it to fall off one shoulder. I had found another bolt of black tuille and had sewn to hang from the waist of a simple black skirt. I wore my Doc Martins and carried a basket filled to the brim with leaves that I had collected and arranged. My costume was supposed to make me look as if I had been wandering among the snow, looking for her daughter. I had paled out my skin with white powder.

We were dressed for the Witches Ball. We were meeting Lisa and Darnelle there and a few more of our friends. I knew that Sophie, Fox and Jenn. Catherine was coming with Vince and Amanda. It was odd to me to me to have so many people I knew coming together. It filled me with feeling akin to joy, but it was somehow more. It shone brighter within me and I danced upon the thrum of this feeling as we skipped closer to Barrymore’s.

Barrymore’s threw the Witches Ball every year and I had never been before. I had been told to expect a night of magic and wonder and merriment. From the sea of people dressed in costumes, the others had not led me wrong. When we entered the bar, it was to find a sea of people in costumes and a band playing music on the stage. There would be a few bands tonight. The stage had been draped in webs and streamers that were made to look like a spider’s web. The triple moon had been painted on the stage wall and there were lights made to resemble candles everywhere.

It was too loud to speak sometimes, but we leaned in close and lost ourselves to the joy of finding others we knew in the crowd of people. I waved at Rainbow and Sunshine came in for a quick hug before heading to the bar. Catherine pulled me onto the dance floor so that I could lose myself to the music that was thumping through the room. It was filled with the bunt smell of smoke, the tang of sweat and a heady cloud of sage.

I let myself get lost in the music and the joy of the moment. The veil was thin tonight, and I knew that there was the potential for great things to be done tonight. I looked at everyone as I danced and I knew that I was lucky. In that moment, the air filled with the sounds of joy, I knew that my life had not gone to plan, but it had brought me here to be present when magic was being made.

The people around me, those that filled my life with such light, showed me that I was wealthier than I had ever thought possible. I had lost one family and gained another. Likewise, I had lost one home only to find another.

A lot had been taken from me, but I had found what mattered most: a place to call my own where I could build the foundations I needed. It felt weird and kind of magical to know that I had a home to go to, a bed of my own and a door that I could lock against the world if I chose to, or open to let the world in.

As I danced, I took hold of the Pentacle that I wore around my neck. It rooted me to this moment, to the earth around me. Within the room, I could see fire, breathe in air, feel the earth beneath my feet and drink libation. I knew at that moment, that I was everything that the earth offered. Holding onto that Pentacle, I knew who I was and I was finally at home in myself.

It was an odd feeling but one mad all the sweeter when the music changed and the bar started playing a remix of Rasputin by Bony M. I let out a laugh. My life was completely unrecognizable from where this path had begun.

I lost myself to the music and the scent of sage, sweat and booze that filled the air. I danced and I looked forward to what would come.

Chapter Seventy-Four – Queen of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in Tarot, A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

Catherine’s three cats followed her everywhere.

If I couldn’t find her, I just had to listen for the padder of cat feet and head towards them. This time, I merely had to wait for the footsteps to find me because Catherine was going to introduce me to the others that lived in the house.

Soon enough, Catherine knocked on my door, and I opened it to find her standing there, surrounded by her cats. They meowed and rubbed against my shins and ankles. I reached down to pet them and to let them smell my hands. The cat that I held the other day, Bell, meowed until I picked him up. He nuzzled into my neck and held onto me, purring contentedly. Catherine smiled and rubbed Bell’s head between his ears. “He likes you. He’s fussy with people normally, but he’s taken a real shine to you.”

She was wearing a white poet’s blouse and short skirt that looked as if it were made of neckties. A purse was slung across her shoulder and on the front pocket I could see writing. I bent down to take a closer look. It read: Dip me in honey and throw me to the lesbians.

“Are you ready? I know you’re still putting yourself to right, but I promised to take you around to meet everyone and show you around. Is now a good time?”

I nodded and slung my purse onto my shoulder. It had my keys, book, tarot card and crystals. It felt kind of wonderful to lock the door and know that all my things were safe. The night before, I had traced a pentacle on the other side of my door, and I marvelled at how such a simple thing like a door made me feel safer than I had felt in a long time.

“It’s kind of mind blowing, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?”

“How a door can lead to home, to new adventures or be a barrier against what we don’t need anymore.” She took Bell from me, and he snuggled right into her embrace. “Doors can lead us to new things to explore, and they are barriers that we can control.” She put hand up and seemed to be listening for something. Turning to me, she smiled. “Nice wards. They are all warm and lovely like you. Come on.”

She led me to a door and knocked on it. “There are four rooms down here and three rooms in the attic. I love up there with Vince and Amanda. Laura lives down here with you, Ted is at the end of the hallway, and this room belongs to Eric. He’s really nice, though he’s really shy.”

The door in front of us opened and I saw a mop of dusty blond hair falling into blue green eyes. “Hey Eric, this is Jamieson. He lives next door to you.”

“Hi,” He held out his hand almost as an afterthought and I shook it lightly.

“Hello,” I said. “Nice to meet you,”

He nodded almost jumped when Catherine reached out to touch his arm. “We’re going to go for coffee. Do you want to come with us?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Reading, thank you though.”

“No thanks needed. Maybe next time?”

He nodded at us and retreated back into his room. “He’s such a nice guy if you can get him out of his shell.” She passed the other door. “Laura is out at her job. She volunteers at the Mission a lot. She likes to give back to those that helped her. I’ll make sure you meet her later.”

Knocking on Ted’s door, Catherine stepped back and gently pulled me back with her. “Trust me,” she said with a wink.

The door flew open and Ted looked at the two of us dark eyes filled with a light that had nothing to do with the lights above us. “Have you come to hear me recite some poetry?” He asked me.

“I could if that’s what you want me to do.” I said.

“Excellent, please recite the following sonnet. It’s one of my absolute favourites!” He yelled this as if he were in a large auditorium and needed to be heard.  He thrust a copy of A Midsummers Night Dream at me. It had obviously been read countless times. The book felt like it would fall apart in my grasp, but I was careful with it.

The sonnet had been highlighted in different colours. I read: “Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green: The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dew-drops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits: I’ll be gone; Our queen and all her elves come here anon.”

I looked up and was astounded to see that Ted was actually crying. “Thank you fair sir.”

“Ted, this is Jamieson. I told you about him earlier.”

“Fair thee well, son of Jamie. May we merry meet again.” Giving us a bow, he retreated to his room and closed the door softly.

I stared at it in wonder. “Come on, let’s go see Amanda and see if she wants to go for coffee with us. There’s no point trying to meet Vis, he doesn’t get up until its nighttime. He likes to pretend he’s a vampire. It’s a good thing he looks good in black otherwise the whole vampire thing would be a total waste.” She went up the stairs, and I followed her. Bell went ahead of us and scratched at Amanda’s door.

When it opened, we were greeted by someone that bore a strong resemblance to Lucille Ball. Her makeup had been done in bold, exaggerated strokes and she wore her dark red hair all bundled together on top of her head. She wore what looked like a yellow Mumu cinched with a bright pink belt. “We going for a coffee run? Gosh, it’s been forever since I’ve had a good cup of coffee, maybe like a few hours? I’m not sure how long it’s been! Hey, are you Jamieson? It’s so nice to meet you!” She took my right hand in her own and clasped our hands together with her left. She shook my hand as if I were a visiting official. “Where do you come from? Don’t answer me, I’m good at guessing? Do you come from the cosmos? See, I knew it. Well, are we going or not?” With a finger wave, she began to make her way down the stairs ahead of us.

The very halls of the house seemed to breathe with relief. Catherine laughed at the shocked look I must have worn on my face. “She can be a lot, but Amanda is a brilliant artist. You should see some of her oil work.”

The day seemed bright once we left the house like the world was coming to life around me. We took the short trek to Irene’s Pub on Bank Street and hopped into a booth. The waitress came and took our coffee order. Catherine and I ordered a plate of zucchini sticks to share. Amanda waved her hand. “I’m off zucchini for a while. I had a little bender last week and it was zucchini everything.”

“Last month it was carrots.” Catherine said.

“I mean, they were so orange. Just calling out to be eaten.”

“And yet you hate oranges.”

Amanda waved her hand again as if she were shooing a fly or dismissing a servant. “Self-righteous bastards.” She said. “I can’t even with them.”

Catherine let out a laugh and Amanda snorted loudly. Soon, I was giggling right along with them. I hadn’t had much to laugh about and now here was this gift and who was I to turn away from the music of laughter? It was wonderful to let go of my remaining walls, even if it was just for a moment, so that I could lose myself in a moment of joy. I reached up to wipe away the tears of joy from my eyes and looked at Catherine.

For a moment, she looked to be wearing a crown of stars in her curling red hair and the stars shone so brightly. I blinked and realized that what I had mistaken for stars were really the tears that clung to my eyelashes. The laughter made by all three of us made the stars move and shift as if they were ready to fall from the sky.

Reaching a hand across the table to take one of mine, Catherine gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m so glad you found us, Jamieson. Welcome home.”

I nodded, agreeing with her. “It feels like home already.”

Tilting her head to the right, she looked at me. Her eyes widened at me and then narrowed slightly. “It’s so hard to run all the time. It’s nice to rest finally, isn’t it? You know all about that.”

Nodding again, I looked away from her because she had hit the nail on the head in one go. I tried covering and took my pack of cigarettes from my bag, I held out the pack and Amanda and Catherine each took one and we lit them from the same flame. I wondered if such a thing could be considered magic.

I let out a plume smoke and tried to put my fear into the air so that it could return to the ether. “Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

Chapter Sixty-Eight – Six of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

“I can’t believe you’re having me wear this to a bar.” I told Rhonda.

She stopped and looked back at me. I felt odd but oddly free wearing the black skirt and sparkly top. It was a beautiful skirt. It hugged my legs and went from my knees to my waist. There were buttons that ran the whole length of it and they were covered in velvet. I had never work anything so fancy in such a long time. The green crop top left my belly uncovered, but the sparkles made up for that. Rhonda had given me a pair of fishnets that had been the wrong size and I put everything together with my black Doc Martins that I had gotten at Rock Junction. The whole outfit really worked, and I was surprised how comfortable I felt.

“It’s what’s going to get you in without paying a cover. It’s fetish night at Frankies on Frank. If you go in with a fetish, you don’t pay a cover.”

“What’s my fetish?”

“Jamieson, cross dressing is a fetish, but it’s also very now. You look good, not every man can pull it off, but you got hips and curves. You gotta show those off. And look at your fucking legs! Why have you kept those covered up? You’re gorgeous and you’re covering your whole body. You don’t need to hide yourself because others were ashamed of you. You wore a fucking sarong to Kaleidoscope, what’s the difference?”

“We were isolated there.” I told her frankly. That was part of the truth. I was more vulnerable because of the shape of the skirt. There was nowhere to hide within it. It felt too open in downtown Ottawa. I was exposed here. I felt like I was in the open sea with the way that the wind brushed past me, and I could feel every perceived eye upon me. Part of me wanted to hide behind Rhonda, but there was a bigger part of me that was excited. I was thrilled at being brave enough or foolish enough to doing this. I loved the brashness of it and how alive I felt. My whole body felt at home within these clothes, and I was terrified and thrilled at the same time. I didn’t know what to do.

Rhonda could sense my discomfort. Putting a hand on my arm, she gave me a stern look and a grin. “You’ve got this, honey. Besides, going in with a fetish saves you five bucks and that can be used for a beer.”

I let out a laugh. “Well, then what’s your fetish?”

She made a motion with her right hand to encompass all of her form. “Honey, I am the fetish. This is my home. I’m among my kind here. Every Thursday night is fetish night. I am seen here and you will be, too.”

We approached Frankies and I was surprised to see that it was an old three-story house that had been made into a bar. “Bottom level is the dance floor; middle floor is the bar where everyone cruises for what they need and the third floor is where the strippers are, there’s always a cover for that floor, too. The place you want to be is the attic. That’s where we’re going tonight.”

I could hear music coming from inside the place and my spirit wanted to lose itself to the rhythm. The thought of a bar frightened me though, despite the call of the music. Gay bars had never been kind to me. I had learned to build walls around myself in places like this and now I was going to enter this place dressed in women’s clothes.

Stopping to look up at the house, the beat of the beat of the music pulling me closer despite my need to protect myself. Rhonda lit a smoke and took a few puffs before passing it to me. “Here, honey. It’s going to be okay. Just embrace the part of yourself that danced in front of the fire at Kaleidoscope. You’ve got the goods, now show ‘em off.” She took the smoke from me and took a few more puffs before butting it out. “Come on.”

We entered the doors and I felt the full pull of the music wrap its arms around my body. I could feel the music, and it felt like I had been immersed in water. The bar was softly lit and we were met by one of the bar tenders when we entered. “You’re not here alone tonight, Rhonda?” He was tall and thin and had brown hair that came down to his shoulders. He had deep brown eyes and stubble on his jaw. “Who’s the skirt?” He gave me what I hoped was an appreciative glance and a wink.

“This here is Jamieson. You be nice to him Jake. He’s new.”

Jake was standing by the door. I could see men and women mingling, drinks in their hands. The music that I’d heard from outside was louder in here and though it wouldn’t have the base of the dance floor, the music here moved me warmed me. The bar gave off this feeling of warmth and welcome. People were having fun here and the air of the place seemed celebratory. The sound of music and the voices of others pulled me in and I could feel myself moving away from where I was toward something I could not see.

It had been so long since I’d been to a bar and the whole thing seemed part otherworldly and part mysterious. There was an elated feel to the air that combined with the music that I could hear and the beat that I could feel in the floor from the dance floor down below.

“You here for fetish night?”

“Aren’t I always?” She gave him a wink. “That’s where the getting is good, you know that.”

She went up the stairs in front of me and I followed. I heard a whistle behind me, and I turned to see Jake giving looking at me up and down. “Nice legs,” he said.

I smiled awkwardly. Jake was cute. He had long brown hair worn in a shag cut that hung to his shoulders and he wore his green t-shit and jeans really well.  I could see the lustre and shine from his hair and his dark eyes more clearly from my higher advantage point. I felt cheeky and gave him a wink and made sure to add an extra wiggle in my butt as I was going up the stairs.

The wooden steps creaked as I made my way up the stairs behind Rhonda, the banister smooth underneath my touch from the thousands of others before me that made the same climb. We arrived on the floor where the strippers danced, and the music was stronger here. The air was filled with the scent of need and desire. A kind of musk filled the air. I had a fleeting sight of a drag queen in a red wig, a half naked man walking after her to what I presumed was the dance floor.

Rhonda noticed me looking. “They have the whole thing here. The dancers perform and if you want to, you can have a private dance in the champagne room.”

“You ever go?”

“No, I don’t like champagne,” she said giving me a wink. “The bubbles make me burp. Plus, I don’t need to pay to see a boy bump and grind. But we’re going one floor up. Mind your step, the stairs are a little slimmer here.”

She was right. I made my way carefully up the small flight of stairs and wondered what awaited me. There was less light up here and I could hear the melody of people’s voices grow louder as we made our way further upward. The stairs went around a corner only to open up into the attic. There was a bar to the left of the room and a bartender talking to one of the other patrons, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. In one of the corners of the room, there was a wooden cross set up like an X. There was a gentleman dressed in leather pants whose wrists and ankles were being gently placed into leather braces. The man placing him on the wooden X made sure that he was secure, kissed him and then gently began to whip him. Rather than causing the man on the X pain, the whipping seemed to be bringing him no end of joy.

I looked away wanting to give them both privacy and when I turned my head, I saw a woman with red hair who was topless. She was letting another woman gently apply clamps to her nipples and the whole act seemed to be not one of dominance, but one of love. I wasn’t used to seeing two acts that I would associate with pain, but the people that were being whipped and clamped were experiencing pain.

“There are all kind of ways to deal with pain, Jamieson. Sometimes, you need to find an outlet for it, a way to release the pain you’re carrying.”  Walking up to the bar, she motioned for two beers and handed one to me. “Maybe this will give you the release you need. Maybe it won’t, but I wanted you to see your options.”

I looked at the attic room filled with people who were unashamed of who they were and what turned them on. I didn’t know if I was ready to experience any of this, but it was comforting to know that I could be completely myself here, too, as much as I was in the Pagan community. It felt like Rhonda had shown me another side of myself, one that I had been ashamed of for so long, but she was showing me a way out of that shame.

“It’s okay to be wounded,” Rhonda said softly. “It’s how you learn. Sometimes, you have to move away from what is trying to hold you back. I’m not saying break ties but put up the boundaries you need so that you can do what you want.”

I knew that she was talking about a great many things at once, we had talked about everything after all. She knew that my finding a way forward mattered to me and she knew that not having a home of my own was a growing concern. She knew of my need to be out on my own despite the guilt I felt at wanting to leave Lisa’s place.

What she was telling me was that it was okay to move on. There would be pain, of course there would be, but I would be better for it.  “Thank you,” I told her.

“You’re welcome, now watch my beer. I’m getting some.” I watched as Rhonda sashayed up to the wooden X and allowed herself to be strapped into the leather cuffs.