Many Moons
Circles are hard to weave.
Circles that overlap are harder
Some days I think I just like the challenge
Sometimes circle weaving feels like a meditative act
Some days it feels Sisyphean
Mostly I think about cyclical nature and its embodiment in the moon
The repetition of history and the seasons
People seem drawn to circles
They feel complete, comfortable—a symbol for interconnectivity.
A symbol with plurality
With ties to the sacred feminine, to circular language and “feminine” writing, magical realism and moon goddesses
Motherhood and protection.
Round and round and round.
There’s something else here about dysphoria though,
The alienation of the body from the self.
Is it the claim of the feminine on the moon and then the loss of it as a symbol in genderflux?
The idea of loss—can a gender have claim on a celestial?
I wouldn’t want to loose her
as I find myself
Sometimes I ask why the fascination with reflections of the moon in the water?
The moon and the water are intrinsically linked
In reflection becoming one and the same
The moon affects tides, which move in and out, rhythmically, cyclically.
The tides affect all kinds of other things
The reflection of the moon in water is imperfect— much like the act of attempting to weave a circle
It’s not really about the perfection but the attempt.
The imperfections are the marks of the hand in the work.
The imperfections stand in for the flaws of memory
The imperfections are perfectly human, perfectly queer, perfectly beautiful.
Some days the imperfections bother me more than others
Some days, the repetition is there to help me understand that perfection isn’t the only thing I strive for
As a child I read about the Greek goddess Artemis, protector of women.
A warrior goddess.
I didn’t understand then—I thought it was about power.
I know now what women need protection from.
I spent time when I was younger, walking alone in quiet moments, looking at her face beaming back at me, quietly talking to her— ‘Artemis protect me, I am within your sight’—things of this kind.
Inexperienced prayer from a young woman who grew up without religion.
Walking and talking to her, as if there is any god or goddess that can protect us from the harm others will inflict.
If that girl knew what I know now, she would be more careful who she puts her trust in. Sometimes I still walk and look at the moon.
Sometimes I think about the wonder I lost in those moments, the curiosity and easy trust I’ve long sought to reclaim.
Artemis watch over me, Artemis protect me. Keep me in your sight.
I am one of your women, vengeful now, understanding the need and nature of protection, and just how much we stand to lose.