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  1. Crip Dyke, Right Reverend Feminist FuckToy of Death & Her Handmaiden says

    Seems ridiculous on grass/wheat, but TW

    and more TW

    Hell, all the TWs!

    As a child and more than once, I was attacked by people my age with dartboard-darts. I had to give up everything but my eyes, as much of my genitals and could be scrunched backward and in by bending and twisting, and sometimes (after an uncomfortable experience) my throat. This was all partly because you just don’t have enough body parts that don’t really matter and partly because the kids’ aim was so bad as to make +/- 6′ a reasonable CEP.

    This had the effects of both making me ***very*** relieved we didn’t have a dartboard in my own home (though I thought it was a great game and played it elsewhere when I could) AND making me fall ever-so-thoroughly in love with grass-gone-to-seed and wheat stalks.

    There was far more wheat all ’round than grass seed, but grass grew on my parents’ own property, so I didn’t have to worry about the ethics of picking it (only the family consequences of leaving the lawn unmowed).

    Eventually, I met the farmer whose land bordered ours on 2 sides. He wouldn’t have made the decision just for me, of course, but apparently he had some flexibility in exactly when to let which patch of his fields lie fallow. So he made the land next to my house fallow for 2 years, then when we would run into each other, he would randomly update me on his plans for the land’s next fallow section.

    The result?

    I got to play darts with the random stalks that crept on to the fallow land (and believe me, wheat heads work better than grass heads) and fell deeply, deeply in love with building little targets (sometimes artistically, most times just some object, a lot of imagination, and careful placement in that imaginary environment). and playing my dart games in the middle of living fields.

    Anyone can love these grass pods for any reason that resonates with them, but I’m feeling a love that is echoing back to a world of nature, another human’s gift to me of true friendship, relief/excitement at a chance to play a game I’d been denied at home, escape from violence from people who called me “friend” but who may have invited to into their houses more for the opportunity to target me than any friendships, and hours of exercise for my imagination.

    Four stalks, once full of grass seed, and Kengi can create dozens of the most powerful echoes -- not crossing the space of a racquetball court, but crossing the time of decades.

    Thank you.

  2. says

    CD:

    I got to play darts with the random stalks that crept on to the fallow land (and believe me, wheat heads work better than grass heads) and fell deeply, deeply in love with building little targets (sometimes artistically, most times just some object, a lot of imagination, and careful placement in that imaginary environment). and playing my dart games in the middle of living fields.

    Anyone can love these grass pods for any reason that resonates with them, but I’m feeling a love that is echoing back to a world of nature, another human’s gift to me of true friendship, relief/excitement at a chance to play a game I’d been denied at home, escape from violence from people who called me “friend” but who may have invited to into their houses more for the opportunity to target me than any friendships, and hours of exercise for my imagination.

    Those are wonderful images, CD. Thanks for sharing.

  5. Kengi says

    These are green foxtail stalks, by the way. The hairy spikes should grow quite long by fall.

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