look , gay catholic vom!!
(i remade a chalice and a monstrance for The Gays and survivors of assault, respectively!)

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look , gay catholic vom!!
(i remade a chalice and a monstrance for The Gays and survivors of assault, respectively!)
bad clip of my senior sculpture show set up! from my instagram @droolsright
gel pen shyboy....💙
children invading my film notes
(a letter to my parents/about my deadname) (tentatively for now "My road, never travelled")
You lack humility, that is not to say you have never felt humble, but you believe yourself correct in many aspects of your thinking and living. I do not believe that I know more than you, but I have seen you speak and behave as if you have decided on many facets of the world according to your experience, and mine is and has always been wildly different. And while I may not know more than you, despite this I am familiar with many things, lives and worlds that you will never recognize. Men that are beautiful, delicate and sweet, women that are rough and handsome, both taking up, digging out their spaces with nails and teeth. People that refuse both traditional names, others who blend bodily categories and create endless kaleidoscopes of new ones.
I have never felt more myself than in the moment I realized I had no desire to be a woman or man. Without the confines of these two small squares the galaxy of my freedom to be myself, to never change or label myself for the comfort of another, stretched out in front of me like an endless country road in the pale brisk pinks of a winter morning. I have found bliss in the infitine, the limitlessness of being queer, being trans.
I let myself love women, feel tenderly and violently in a way I have learned straight men never could. When men look upon me with desire I laugh like something that could eat them alive. When women meet my eyes with that silent question I could die and ascend through every circle of heaven, I intimately feel the indescribable serenity and joy of the seraphim. I revel in this difference between our lives, not because it is not yours, but because it is completely mine.
At my first labelling, first boxing, you gave me names from your mothers, one fiery and old, one young and minimized, even after her death. These names no longer mark me as your property but as my own, brilliantly. Julia gives me fuel from her spirit and grants me the spark to run with it into my own horizon, we are not the same but she loves our difference, is delighted by my boyishness, disrespect, and volume. Dolores rests with me, a secret in my pocket and reflection in a mirror. Every day I live a life and take chances that she never got the luck or time to, I love and give in ways that would make her proud, that respect her duty she carried until death, even after she was quickly replaced.
The home of my spirit is founded on unconditional love, trust, forgiveness, and a belief that people can always find the good in themselves. I could not find these traits in the place you set for me at your table, and so a long time ago I left to build my own. Wright is a name that denotes a maker, and I will build my life with the dedication that built my own soul, my love, my families, and my body. I will carve and sand my life until it gives under my hands, making a space for those I love, who love me back, who see me as myself and not the mold I was cast from at birth. Julia Dolores Wright is my mold, I melt down the poisonous iron and I hammer out my own kind of holy, my own revolution, my transformed life and body from glowing bronze.
thot w their big paintings
https://instagram.com/p/BoZ3UW3n9FU/
5 Likes, 0 Comments - Jules Wright (@droolsright) on Instagram: “1st prompt of Inktober: Poisonous (the plants pictured are all “Abortif
im going for Inktober! the first prompt is up on my insta^^^. inspired by a few fearmongering “prolifers” that set up on my colleges campus earlier today.
drawing for a big painting!