Topic: Art

Mariette Pathy Allen is exhibiting her groundbreaking photography at the Brooklyn Museum for the show "Burning Down the House: Building a Feminist Art Collection" October 31 2008 - April 15, 2009
Watch her on YouTube remembering Felicity.

"Paedra Exposed", an exhibition/installation of New Ink Paintings by Paedra Peter Bramhall opening July 14 through August 26 at Gallery in the Field, 6875 Arnold District Road, Brandon, VT 05733.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #104, Winter 2004.

Poems by Jane C. Jane writes, ?For many years I have written as a tool for catharsis. Now I feel I would like to share some of my work, and hope it might be helpful to another person.?

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #105, Spring 2004.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #103, Fall 2003.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #103, Fall 2003.
by Diana Hignutt

Gaius Marcus Pilate was as nervous as he had been in his entire sixteen years of existence. His heart beat furiously as he made his way through the bustling streets. His young face was flush from the excitement and his breaths alternated between short, shallow, and hyperventilation. He was aware that he was out of place in the seedy section of Jerusalem through which he walked. His rich, Roman robes were in stark contrast to the clothing of the other passersby. He hoped no Centurion would take particular notice of him. He most definitely didn?t want to have to explain this to his father. He wouldn?t understand. No one would.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #102, Summer 2003.

Copyright 2003 by K.C. Ball

It continued, as it began, with a telephone call at bedtime. Maggie Stone had fallen gently into sleep shortly after ten pm. A summer breeze spilled through the open window near her old brass bed, carrying the half-heard lullaby of tires on the nearby interstate. After ten years in her small apartment in the city?s Olde Towne district, it was a sound she would have noticed only in its absence. In all other ways the night was quiet, one more advantage of living in the heart of a city where most folks fled back to the suburbs during afternoon rush hour. The trill of the telephone tugged Maggie back from the edges of an easy dream. She touched the wide, rounded button on the speakerphone that sat on the brass stand next to the bed.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #102, Summer 2003.

by Kathleen L. Farrell

I was going through this, my tomboy phase, when I found out I wasn?t going to be allowed to play Little League. My eight-year-old spirit was crushed. My older brother played. Well, actually he warmed the bench, but he got to wear the uniform. I loved the uniform. I told my grandma, who stayed with us during the summers, that I thought I wanted to be a boy. ?Why on earth would you want to be a boy?? she asked, as she pulled a cookie sheet from the oven.

Petroleum

Wherefore weave with toil and care
The rich robes your tyrants wear
?Shelley

by Sarah Gina Jones