Bedazzling Hide: A Farewell Letter to Salonathon

      Everyone lit this last night on fire because it had to burn. You had to burn brightly, so that something new could be born from the ashes.

This feeling was solidified when the force that is Winnifred Coombe (aka Caroline Kingsley) hit the floor. You know Coombe well but it was my first time experiencing her. As soon as she said “… but death and endings are all a necessary part of the life cycle. As necessary as wiping the cum off a bum-bum or a tum-tum” I knew I needed to listen to the truth she was spewing.

“We must ask ourselves,” Coombe continued. “Is the suffering we know dear to us? Is it easier than dealing with a new suffering born of new growth?”

     Whoa. Before I even wrapped my head around that question in relation to you, Salonathon (and then also in relation to myself, because I am a narcissist), Winnifred said “repeat after me” and began to loudly chant: “The old thing has perished. The old thing has died. I make fabulous things from the old thing’s dead hide!”

      At its climax, the chant was being yelled by one and all. We all screamed in understanding that the death of you is not the end. You live in everyone that ever had the privilege to experience you. You created a safe space for people to explore the inner workings of themselves. This is how we discovered, and continue to discover, the ills of today’s society and the remedies to those ills. It’s how we uncover the problems and solutions of tomorrow, as well. These rooms are important.

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