It looks like I’ll need to update my previous blog post, because I recently discovered one more postcard painting from my 2024 series, “In the Spaces III”. This is actually the first of these paintings I ever did, and it was done at this time back in 2023, when I first got the postcard watercolour paper that I would use for the project while I was visiting Sophie Labelle in Finland. This painting depicts the view of the bridge from an island on the river that runs through the town of Joensuu. It was on this outing that I first coined the inside joke I share with Sophie of me yelling at her in public “I’m robbing you! I’m robbing you!” Hilarious!
I had thought I had sent this one off to my mom while I was still in Finland, but apparently I just stuck it in a drawer and forgot about it! As the first in this series of paintings, and as a painting that was done while I was still completing In the SpacesII, this one isn’t as developed as others in the series, or even as those done after it as part of ITS #2, but I find its looseness and simplicity charming in much the same way as my earliest paintings.
I am going to be honest and admit that I’ve never really liked my art. I actually initially went into comics and cartooning in part because I didn’t think I was capable of the artistic skill required to make beautiful works of art like paintings – an utterly ridiculous belief to still hold after 20 years of pursuing cartooning and comic art and learning how deep of art forms these are. I think there was a good amount of “gender” going on in this attitude, as there is I think a kind of “surrogate dysphoria” that goes into my general dislike of my art; an ingrained sense of “I categorically dislike myself, and anything that comes from me” learned over decades of untreated gender dysphoria.
But from when I first began painting back in 2023, I found a new sense of beauty in my art that I had been unable to see previously. My early paintings were less clearly defined. They were loose and tentative, with soft, translucent colours barely built up upon one another. It is here the name In the Spaces originated, for the image wasn’t being fully laid out in literal, descriptive detail, but was instead being implied with loose, often unconnected brush strokes, with room for one’s imagination to fill in the literal gaps. I, myself, have a very active imagination, so this approach may just appeal to me more than others, but for this same reason, the problem I had with my comics art and pen and ink illustrations was the literalness of my line-work. While I would improve over the years, I too frequently get caught up replicating details, and no matter how much I labored over a work, it would never look exactly like it would in my mind (or perhaps, more accurately, how it felt in my mind). So regardless of how good it may or may not have been, *I * certainly wasn’t ever going to like it.
The very first landscape I ever painted, from May, 2023. It shares the title “In the Spaces” with my first little book of paintings. It’s so quaint compared to my more recent works, but it moved me to tears when I first made it, because it was the first time I ever made art I truly felt was beautiful.
When I first transitioned, I was at a point in my life where I had seemingly moved away from visual art in favor of fitness and martial arts, and I made an intentional move back towards visual arts also out of a gendered sense of values. Not only did I learn in transitioning that things I had previously thought impossible (i.e. transition) were, in fact, possible, and so I figured I might as well try to go two for two on fulfilling my dreams and try to become an artist as well as a girl, but I think I also held in my mind’s eye a vision of myself as this kind of feminine, aesthetic, artist girl. A very hetero-normative vision of transition, gender, and professions. I wanted to both be beautiful and create things of beauty. While I strove to improve my skills and expand my repertoire, for years, I was resigned to my art always being “my art”. Meaning, it would always be the idiosyncratic, ugly line work of my comics. While this style would change over the last 10 years, it really wasn’t until I broke through that other ‘impossible’ barrier I was still holding onto in my mind and tried painting that I first made any art that I felt fit that category of “beautiful”.
My fingers often look much more busted than this after one of my daily “Shoving my fingers into a bag of rocks” Karate training sessions.
I find it rather ironic that I would achieve this gendered goal of creating beautiful works of art as I am once again shifting my focus in life and moving away from visual art and back to martial arts. I’m known as Buff Aunt Bria these days and my muscled arms don’t exactly paint a picture of the delicate, artistic girl I envisioned myself becoming in 2015. There is a push-pull with this. I think I overall like being a muscle lady, but it can be hard to feel feminine at times, especially since my training usually leaves me covered in scratches and bruises, and my fingers coarse, calloused, and often taped up. Having cute nails is nice, but having strong fingers is important to me, too!
As I put in my 2021 graphic novel, Coming Out Again, we don’t just come out once, but many times throughout life. We are continually evolving and our relationships with things like gender are forever changing. Just as I am a very different person from who I was in 2015, we are also living in very different world from then. From the way we talk about transness and gender, to the current political prospects for trans rights in society, a lot has changed that might affect how a trans woman presents herself and what she prioritizes in life. I no longer feel obligated to perform the kind of cishetero-normative femininity that I felt was required of me when I transitioned in 2015, and I additionally feel quite unsafe in the current political environment and want to be able to take care of myself and my loved ones.
This might be upsetting for fans of my work to read, but I’m actually not entirely certain I even like comics anymore. My neurodivergent brain has big swings, and often I either love something or I hate it. These days, I find myself hating the smirking faces of cartoon characters. I’m certain this has more to do with a sense of disillusionment with making comics for a living than an actual hatred of cartooning as an art form (you know, the art form I worked at for 20 years of my life). Unlike most comic artists, I got into making comics not out of any long-standing love of established comic brands and characters, but because 20 years ago, the art form was wide open for newcomers to tell new, original stories within. Today, there’s more original stories being told in comics than I could have ever dreamed of back in 2005, but big business now has its fingers in everything more than ever, I don’t know if there’s much room for someone like myself to make a living without having to cater to corporate practices and online trends.
I am not saying I’m quitting comics. The future is always uncertain, and regarding all things I always say “Never say never.” All I know is that, when I paint a landscape, there’s no bullshit. I am making a beautiful image meant to evoke the feelings I had when I visited a specific place at a specific time. There’s no message, no joke, no news item I’m referencing, no high-minded artsy concept, not even a depiction of any variety of person. I’m just making a beautiful thing that makes me feel good, and the only person in the picture is the person looking at the view. As a transgender person who has mostly been known for political work, I feel irresponsible for making work that isn’t speaking out about what’s going on in the world. But I also feel resentful that as trans person I’m not allowed to ever have peace. We must always be fighting, the cis people refuse to leave us alone. They want to empty us from the world, and they want to make the world into something ugly. Well, in my landscapes, there is nobody. Everybody has been emptied from the world, and this trans person can finally have a moment of peace. I can just exist, the land can just exist, and I can make and be something beautiful, solely for the sake of something beautiful.
…Juuuust about done on this one!
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“Choklit View” from ITS #2. A view of downtown from Choklit park, near my home.
In May of 2023, I began upon a project of learning to paint. I started out doing loose plein air sketches of landscapes in a cheap little book using dollar store water-colour paints. Over the course of the Summer, these paintings became increasingly complex, and once I had filled the first book, I immediately set out to bind a new book out of dollar-store water-colour paper and began on the next iteration of landscapes, which were even more complex than the last. I titled these two books “In The Spaces” I & II, respectively. The name comes from my interest in how painting can largely exist in the spaces in between brush strokes, allowing one’s imagination to fill in the details, creating an image far more pleasing than a fully literal, realistic depiction of the original scene, since it comes from your own hopes for what that image could be. Additionally, I was trying to recreate the experience of being in those places where I sat down with my pipe to paint on some sunny afternoon, as well as playing on the idea of these little books being a kind of mini art gallery – all spaces within spaces, within spaces.
My mobile plein air painting kit and a typical scene depicted in ITS #2 – Finland, 2023
In 2024, I began my next iteration of ITS, but instead of a bound book, this new series of paintings would take on a different form…
IN THE SPACES III: JOURNEYS BETWEEN
During my trip to Finland at the end of the Summer in 2023, I picked up a tin of watercolour postcards from an art supply store. Since I was in the process of creating “In The Spaces II”, aside from one card that I tried out while I was there, these cards would have to wait several months to be used. The first two iterations of ITS were about creating a micro space that held within it so many precious places – within time and space – that came in the form of a little book. In this, the third iteration, the book format is replaced by the tin of postcards, and the space that is created is to be sent out into the world to different recipients. So many fleeting moments in life go un-preserved anywhere outside of the memory of those who experienced them, and these moments in this collection, while preserved in paint, will leave me so they can be shared with others. There is a common thread among a number of the paintings of shared elements that affect us all across whatever space we might be in – the light, the land, the culture. Now these spaces can go out into the world and effect others as an element shared between us. Just as the original idea behind the name “In The Spaces” lies in my belief that a painting’s image truly exists in the spaces between the brush strokes, my life, this earth will now exist in between all these other spaces that been scattered across the globe. The space created in this iteration is both a micro-space and a macro-space. You, me, all of us, are now within the space that I have created. We all exist within a shared work of art. But then, we always have in one way or another, haven’t we?
#1: CHILDHOOD’S VIEW
Gabriola Island, 2023
Painted from a tripod video I took in late 2023 of the beach of my childhood during the cold of December in a similar manner to how the last few paintings of ITS #2 were completed. I generally try to paint plein air so as to capture the feeling of being there in the moment, but working from a looped video gives a similar feeling of movement much better than a still photograph can. I have so many fond memories of Summer afternoons playing and swimming here, but the beach in Winter always feels a little melancholy, perhaps not unlike looking back on childhood well into adulthood – a tantalizing vision of something that is ultimately unattainable. Especially since this was one of the earlier paintings I started in this series and I was still finding my way, I kept this one loose, which looking at it now, I feel allows my my memories of every season fill in the view as needed.
#2: CRABBY CAFE
Vancouver, 2024
The port, Crab Park, and the northshore mountains as seen from a ratty hole-in-the-wall cafe my wife introduced me to in early 2023. The food and coffee are vending machine grade or worse, but the atmosphere and view are perfect for my sensibilities. At that time, I was coming out of a bit of a low point in my life after struggling with chronic pain and stiffness since 2022, which made me question my future as an artist and which ultimately led me to explore painting as a gentler art practice that I could do even if my wrists hurt. During the creation of this painting, I was once again upset, but this time because I was worried that I had inadvertently offended a friend. Partway through, I received much welcome confirmation that I had not caused offence, and my worries were all in my head.
#3: DINNER IN AMERICA
Vancouver, 2024
Painted from a photo I quickly stopped to snap on my way home for dinner one chilly but sunny evening in early 2024. It was cold, and I was hungry, but I just had to stop and photograph that golden light of sunset cast upon the north-shore mountains. I had recently watched an excellent film titled Dinner in America, which greatly affected me and inspired me to name this painting after it. I thought about how that film captured a powerful shared sense of “American culture” that transcends national borders. Most of the time, my sense is that I do not wish to be connected to America’s frightening power and influence, especially these days, but I also thought about how that same beautiful light on the mountains shines on us all – that everyone on this continent could experience the same light on any given day, just as we are all affected by the same culture, history, and politics.
#4: CRANE AFTERNOON
Vancouver, 2024
One Friday afternoon in Spring, I decided to take some time for myself and hop on over to city hall to paint the view there. It was a brisk but sunny day, and while I enjoyed my time painting, I found myself growing tired and needed to go home and take a nap before the painting was completed. If memory serves, I believe I woke up feeling ill with the only cold I would get all year. While this painting was not completed within that one session, I wanted to preserve as much of the naive looseness that was originally present. So much of painting’s power is in the looseness – those spaces in between strokes – so to get caught up in the precise details of the crane might have taken something away from the casual nature of the initial session.
#5: AUTUMN MORNING IN NEW ZION
Utah, 2022
In the Fall of 2022, I went on tour with my friend, Sophie, who also hosted me in Finland. We drove around the Western USA in a loop that began and ended in Washington state, and which took us on 15 stops in 14 days across Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California, and Oregon. After an event on the outskirts of Salt Lake City, Utah, we rose with the dawn to drive up the scenic roads in the nearby hills. I think it can be difficult for anyone who hasn’t visited Utah to imagine why the Mormons are able to see it as their promised land, but after having seen the rolling hills bathed in Autumn colours and a golden sunrise, I can understand a bit why someone might think they had found a place they could call home, especially after travelling across the sparse plains that the region sits at the edge of.
#6: MAGNIFICENT MESSENGER
California, 2022
On our Western USA tour, Sophie and I stopped in Joshua Tree national park and hiked up the mountain there. At the top, we were rewarded with spectacular views of the Coachella valley, but best of all was an enormous raven who was croaking vigorously – no doubt trying to coax some food out of the visiting tourists. We both felt incredibly lucky to be in the presence of such an excellent bird – especially since I never expected to see a raven in the desert – but there were tourists there complaining about how noisy it was – the nerve! I find desert landscapes difficult to paint, as they tend to contain a smaller variety of much more muted hues, but the presence of our raven friend made for a nice point of interest to bind the scene together, and the inclusion of glittery paint helped to capture that sparkle that sand makes in the sunlight.
#7: MIRROR ISLAND
Oregon, 2022
Near the end of our tour, Sophie and I stopped in Crater Lake, Oregon, for a quick hike. The waters of Cater Lake are so still and so clear, they make a perfect reflection. At this first point of interest with a clear view of the island at the lake’s centre, all of us hiking tourists were gathered, first in amazement at the lake’s waters, but then at what we all could only interpret as a wake caused by the swimming of some sort of large animal. Could it be some sort of Oregonian Loch Ness? No, it was merely an airplane leaving behind a vapour trail, perfectly reflected by the lake’s waters. I find it interesting that even in a “crystal clear, perfect reflection” we still see what we want to see; we can only interpret things based upon what is present in our minds. Every image that you see is ultimately created in the space within your mind.
#8: LIFE’S STAIRWAY
Oregon, 2022
Later on along the hike at Crater Lake was a beautiful stone stairway leading up a ridge to a cafe that was closed when we arrived. When I look at the composition, which features the stairway front and centre, I think of how far I’ve come since that 2022 tour and since starting this project of painting landscapes. Much of my artistic life, I have felt inadequate, and there are many projects that have been stalled or abandoned or never started because I didn’t feel I was “good enough”. For years, painting seemed like an unattainable, utterly foreign skill-set that I didn’t feel I was capable of even beginning to understand. But part of what eventually drove me to pursue painting was the sense that things could be loose or rough or imperfect, and that would be an asset, rather than a detriment, and if I’ve learned anything in the time since I started these painting projects, it’s of the value of consistent effort building up over time. Never stop climbing, even if it is difficult, and even if you are just at the beginning, or if you’ve been at it for ages but feel like you aren’t making progress. But also don’t become too fixated on the destination, and don’t be afraid to stop and take a look around to survey how far you’ve come so far. Not only might the teahouse at the top be closed, but even halfway up, there are beautiful views to be seen all around.
**IMAGE NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE** – My friend needs to send me a photo!!
#9: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC
Finland, 2022
Painted from a photograph from my trip to Finland and also sent off before I understood exactly what I wanted to do with these postcards. The scene is the view from the cable-car leading up to the first hike Sophie and I went on when I arrived in Finland (documented in The National Landscape from ITS #2). It reminded me of good times with my friend, and so I sent it out to cheer up another friend as a sort of vanguard of this project.
#10-12: THE FELLS 1, 2, & 3
Finland, 2023
Near the end of my visit to Sophie in Finland, she drove us 12 hours up north to the Arctic Circle to hike on the Fells and see if we could find the Northern Lights. A fell is like a large hill that isn’t quite big enough to qualify as a mountain. We got a bit lost and ended up hiking over 10 hours and never did see the Northern Lights, but I did get tons of great photos that will inspire paintings for years. The first of these fell paintings is on the way up the fell, where there was more trees and greenery.
The second is well up the fell and on to the other side, offering a sweeping view of forested valleys and bogs.
And the third fell painting is high up on the fell when we were good and lost.
#13: HARBOUR PLAYGROUND
Vancouver, 2024
East of where I used to live in Strathcona is the Hastings Sunrise neighbourhood. Out this way is a route that offers many opportunities for novel views of the harbour and the North Shore. This view comes from one of the many playgrounds and parks along this route. Just passed swing sets and benches, is harsh industry juxtaposed with splendid natural beauty. It is a land of many contrasts and its views stir in me bittersweet memories of my early 30’s, when I was a hopeful young artist striking out truly on her own for the first time in her life.
#14: THE NORTH IN THE EAST
Vancouver, 2024
Farther along the Route out in Hastings Sunrise is a little spot I long wished to stop with my pipe and sketch. This view of familiar mountains from an unfamiliar (to my daily life) angle and which I have to cycle a good ways to reach, always reminds me of some faraway, exotic land. In the summer of 2024, I had agreed to attend the Dyke March for Pride, but feeling socially burnt out and not in the mood to be surrounded by throngs of people, I played hookie and sought solitude through sketching. It sounds like they had a great march without me, and I got my wish.
#15: THE NORTH TO THE WEST
Vancouver, 2024
If you ride your bike to the top of Stanley Park, you will be rewarded with a tourist trap full of screaming families and school groups. But if you aren’t afraid to sneak a smoke in between gawkers, you can get some gorgeous views for painting. This rickety old rusted railroad Bridge runs past the First Nations reservation in North Vancouver and it’s intriguing to get a view of it from on high across the inlet. But my favourite subject is capturing the shadows cast upon the peaks in different seasons, especially if there’s some mist billowing off the ridge and across the slopes.
#16: NEW DAWN OF JUSTICE
Lake Louise, 2024
In summer 2024, just after my wedding, my friend, Celeste, and I went on a road trip to Calgary. That crazy girl planned for us a jam-packed itinerary that included driving for over 12 hours, stopping for the night at a truck stop and getting up at 3:00 a.m. to go on a hike up Lake Louise at dawn. This craziness paid off with some of the most stunning views I have ever seen. Celeste is an incredible young activist and I felt very lucky to join her on this trip during the scary time politically. I feel invigorated to be in the company of such inspiring people as my friend Celeste and this gorgeous view at dawn reminds me of all the brave young people I know who are just at the beginning of what they have to offer the world. A better world is possible, but it will only come with hard work and maybe some crazy plans
#17: ROADSIDE IN THE ROCKIES
Alberta, 2024
During our trip to Calgary, Celeste and I were shown around the surrounding Alberta countryside one afternoon by our Friend, Sophie (different Sophie). The Alberta Rockies have so much beauty that all manner of random photos snapped from a moving car are worthy of becoming paintings. Today Alberta seems to be a bit of a scary place for transgender people, but I’ll never forget when three trans women drove around the Alberta Countryside for an afternoon without anyone raising a stink.
#18: THE MAGIC BOG
Finland, 2023
Finland is known in Finnish as Suomi; the land of the bogs. When I visited in August the land was still bathed in a long Twilight for much of the day the bogs were full of this magical light bouncing off of the trees this painting was reserved for my friend, Meika, who took the reins of co-directing CampOut! 2024 – the 15th year of the camps operation. The theme was “15 Years of Camp Magic” and I can’t think of a better person than Meika to hold the camp’s magic, and since Meika refers to themself as a “Swamp Goblin”, this magic bog is the perfect picture for them to receive.
#19: THE MOON THAT SHINES ON THE LAUGHTER OF QUEER CHILDREN
Gambier Island, 2023
This painting was made from a photograph taken during the end of Camp celebration for CampOut! 2023, so you must imagine Hearing in this scene the singing and laughter of several dozen queer children all celebrating together in what was, for many of them, the first safe, affirming environment they had ever experienced. In other words; the most heartwarming sounds imaginable. CampOut! is nothing short of magical and its life-changing and transformative service that it provides to 2SLGBTQI+ youth is needed now more than ever. We are entering scary political times for the 2SLGBTQI+ community, and if you have never had a thought about our community before, I ask that you do so now, because the same moon that shines on you, shines on all of us, and the same laws they might use to control and harm us may just come back and be used to control you. While CampOut! is a group effort that depends on paid staff, volunteers, and tens of thousands of dollars in donations, it was largely made possible by the incredible efforts of one person; Anna White. She is like the bright, shining full-moon, whose radiance conjures the magical atmosphere of camp. If we had more Anna Whites on this Earth, then the world would be a brighter, more magical place, and if you ever doubt the ability of one person to change the world, just look up at the moon and think of Anna.
#20: THE VIEW FROM THE HILL WITH MY FRIEND
Williams Lake, 2024
Shortly after CampOut! 2024 I had the honour of being invited by a camp friend to go up to Williams Lake to teach karate at “Living Out Loud”, the first ever pride festival to happen there. At the end of the trip, my friend showed me around his hometown and we spent a lovely afternoon sitting and chatting up on a hill at the nature sanctuary in the middle of Williams Lake. Although places like Williams Lake are often thought of as being inhospitable to queer and trans people, folks like my friend are working to make the places they call home more hospitable for members of their community, and as far as I can tell, there is a vibrant and caring community up there, indeed. Just as we work to preserve and rehabilitate natural habitats, it is capturing this natural beauty of hidden or otherwise un-thought of places that motivates me to paint.
#21: THAT SHIMMERING AFTERNOON
Squamish, 2024
A week after my trip to Williams Lake, my wife and I visited another Camp friend in Squamish so they could both celebrate their 40th birthdays together. To mark the occasion, my wife and I both took some psilocybin mushrooms and walked down to the river for a lazy afternoon by the water. I tried my best to paint the beautiful scene there, but, truthfully, mushrooms aren’t the best for painting, and before long I was too distracted by feeling increasingly convinced that some rambunctious teenage boys playing in the river nearby were sizing us up so they could rape and murder us. Even at the time I thought the notion was absurd, but I also felt like I couldn’t fully trust my senses under the influence, and so we played it safe and called our friend to come and rescue us from what could otherwise have been an entirely pleasant afternoon. From now on I’ll stick with my pipe for painting!
#22: COMING BACK DOWN
Squamish, 2024
The next day after the birthday mushroom debacle, our friend drove us back down from Squamish. The route along the highway is littered with spectacular views that seemingly get ignored by most as if they were so much road litter. What I like most about working from a photograph like I have here with this image snapped from the car driving down the highway, is the greater opportunity to capture those dynamic moments of atmospheric movement effects, like mist billowing out from behind a peak. It somewhat paradoxically gives some movement to the still image.
#23: A YEAR-LONG HUNGER
Gabriola Island, 2024
Last year, in July 2023, I came upon this beautiful field on my way with my mom to go to a garage sale at which I would end up buying what would become my “painting purse”. We didn’t have time for me to stop and paint the picturesque scene, but little did I know that I would not get another chance to paint it until a little over a year later, in the summer of 2024, after a year of feeling a deep sense of PAINT LUST. I wanted that field. I thought of a painting it all the time, and now I have not just that scene or the beautiful sunny afternoon I spent painting it, but the entire year I spent chomping at the bit for it commemorated in paint. All of these things are now enclosed within the space of this picture. Quite the sandwich to quench one’s hunger!
#24: A STILLED WORLD
Vancouver, 2024
My favourite thing about when it snows is how, for at least a little while, everything becomes completely still and quiet. The world physically metamorphoses into an entirely new landscape that is too much trouble for most to go out in, but if you take the time to go out and explore this new world, you will be left in a deeper peace than can be found there at any other time. What I also like about painting snow is the opportunity to use glittery paint, as snow often glitters when you look at it. By adding glittery paint you add a little bit of movement and realism and it feels that much more like you’re there – unfortunately, much of this effect, along with the glitter effects presents in the other paintings, was muted by a miscalculation in choice of protective top-coat. Painting remains an ongoing learning process.
The original form of the cover, before it was mounted on the tin.
I am still figuring out what exactly I am doing with these, and with my painting practice in general. I would like to have a galley show of perhaps these cards before I send them out. I would also like to create postcard reproductions of them to sell.
Would you be interested in a printed reproduction of one of these paintings?
Would you be interested in buying one of the originals?
Would you be interested in buying another painting by me or commissioning me to paint a landscape close to your heart?
Comment on this post or email me at lifeofbria at gmail.com and we can talk. Otherwise, keep an eye out for future announcements of where I take my painting next!
^ The vibes of my painting afternoons…
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There are moments you build up in your mind that can never live up to the image in your head, and then there are moments that loom so large in your mind that you don’t know what to do with yourself once they are over. Things that occupy your every waking thought and action for such a long time that coming back to the rest of reality after they’ve past leaves you directionless. Moments that, as large as they are, are over almost before they’ve even began and before you can process them, and so it’s hard to even process that the moment has passed. You’re still there – either because you’re still wanting more and don’t know how to let go, or because the moment has changed you into something new, and now the reality you have returned to must itself be changed to fit the new you.
I didn’t take first place at the Powell Street Sumo Competition. I went into it “wanting to win” in the sense that I wanted to sincerely try my hardest. I didn’t want to give in at the first sign of tough resistance or choke in a key moment, and I can say that I didn’t do either of those things. But I didn’t *really* expect to win. I, a relative upstart in sumo, with a whole 4 months of serious grappling training couldn’t *really* think I could win multiple rounds against larger, stronger, more experienced competitors without enduring a single loss.
That’s the thing about sumo: it’s over in an instant. If anything other than the soles of your feet touches the ground, you’re out. One hand, one knee, the top of one foot, and you’re out. Not to mention that ring is not very big – it only takes a few steps back and you’re at the edge, and before you know it, you’re out.
An entire Summer of training. Doing 3 to 4 different training sessions a day, often with a nap in between. Pushing myself harder than ever before and achieving new abilities I can safely say I’ve never possessed, all backed up by my incredible coach, Sony Sahota of Praxis Gym, some awesome training partners, so many wonderful friends, and, of course, my beautiful and ever-supportive wife. I basically got to play at being a professional athlete this Summer, and I truly feel like this has been one of the greatest Summers of my life.
And in an instant it was all over.
Poor Miele keeps getting matched up with me. Thanks to cartoonist, James Lloyd, for snapping this photo!
My first match was against an opponent I had faced back in the Spring. A skilled grappler who, granted, is a little smaller than me, and but is also long-time member of the Sumo Sundays Club. But my single-leg takedown game was just too polished this Summer, and in the blink of an eye, I seized an opportunity to snatch up their leg and then it was all over.
But my next match, well, that was up against the previous winner of the “Super Heavyweight” division at the Spring Basho, so I, uh, hehe, couldn’t move him even an inch. Before I could find a moment to snatch up his leg, or even get my bearings, he had pushed me to the edge of the ring and I came down on my back – pulling him with me, but that makes no different in sumo.
I am glad to say that my disappointment was only momentary. Even before I found out at the end of the competition that I would win the “Fighting Spirit” award, I knew I wrestled my best and stuck to my game plan and proved that my had training paid off. When I lost, it was clear that no amount of training I could have done in that time period could have allowed me to go all the way and take first place this year. The competitor who won really deserved it. He’s the head of the Sumo Tigers team here in the city and he’s been training hard to win Powell Street for a good 5 or 6 years. As strong as I am and as experienced as I am in other martial arts, and as much as I was living and breathing training this Summer, someone like me isn’t going to just walk into a competition and take 1st against someone who’s been living and breathing this for literal years. It was a humbling experience wherein I saw just how far I had come, but also how much further I could still go. The best outcome from a period of intense work and preparation.
Honestly, even if I had won, I would be feeling much the same way as I am now. This moment I had been building towards for so long, over in the blink of an eye. Now what?
BE the competition!
During training, my grappling coach said something to me that stuck with me (partially because it happened to line up with my Tarot reading). He said that for a brief period you need to become the competition. You have to be one with the moment, the situation, all the dynamics going on, and respond to it naturally, honestly with exactly the energy that is required to fill in the space left by the shifting tides in and out of the moment. But when it’s over, you need to separate yourself again and come back to life.
I think this is the real change that occurred in me: for a brief period of time I was the competition. I lived for training, all I thought about was training. The was no separation between myself and the moment I was preparing for. Until, I suppose, I was knocked out out of it by, as the wonderful announcer put it, “losing a battle with physics.” I metthe moment ahead of me and gave myself to it as much as I was able to. And when that tide receded, I was able to smoothly and calmly let it slip away beneath my toes. That doesn’t mean I know where I’m going next, just that I can be ready to receive whatever the next tide holds.
I wrote in my last post about where I want my training to go once these challenges I have been building towards for so long are over, but I really can’t just be focusing on training. Living like a professional athlete is great, but a professional athlete I am not.
I know I gotta get back to making art again, whatever that looks like in this modern digital hellscape. But I also know I can’t go back to how I had been living prior to this period of training, which had me largely artistically treading water, just trying to survive. I need purpose. I need something that drives me, not just in my physicality (which is easy to find) but in my artistic output.
Christ. 2019?? I’ve been sitting on this WAY too long.
Actually returning to my comic, StarfistGemini, is certainly on the table for a long-term art goal for me, but having a concept of a project isn’t enough. Powell Street wasn’t the vague concept of “sumo wrestling”, it was a specific, defined event. A date I had to be ready for, with specific parameters of how I needed to be ready. The primary thing that has held me back from actually pulling the trigger on returning to Starfist is a lack of a defined plan for its release; a lack of a defined outcome for working on it. In the past, I could just put comics on social media and that would result in views, likes, Patreon, book orders – all the things needed to sustain an art career. But social media doesn’t work the way it used to (and I hate it and it was killing me), and long-form, full-page comics meant for print don’t read super well online, and unfortunately, it’s not the easiest thing to tuck into working all day long on a comic without revenue. What I need to do if I’m serious about doing graphic novels is actually pitch them to publishers – I’m just gonna have to get over my fear of rejection for this project that is so close to my heart. Hopefully, my meeting of the moment of Powell Street has taught me that I can meet the moment required of me in order to make the art I want to make happen.
Truly, what this is going to take is some soul-searching on my part to understand what I want to accomplish as an artist.
Just who am I now that this moment has passed?
Oh right! I’m Buff Aunt Bria!
If you live in Vancouver, don’t forget to come my FREE Queer and Trans Karate class! Mondays at 6:30 PM at 825 Pacific Street! All bodies and abilities welcome!
Please help me to live and keep making and doing good things!
If you follow me, then you no doubt are aware of my propensity to disappear. Almost every post I make on any given platform is likely to start with some variety of “Sorry I haven’t posted in a while”.
So, uh, yeah, sorry I haven’t posted in a while.
I don’t want to blame everything in my life on my ADHD, but it is true that is definitely a major factor in my disappearances that affects me in multiple ways. (HORSE TIME BABYYYYYYYYYYY)
However, the reason that lies far deeper at the heart of why I so frequently disappear is a far more universal one than my own individual neurodivergence. And that is…
Social Media Sucks and it is Bad For You
I don’t need to belabour this point. I’ve written about this plenty of times and we pretty much all know it by now. Like smoking cigarettes or drinking alcohol before it, social media has become a socially acceptable health-destroying facet of modern life, only less cool and fun than those other things. From melting our attention spans to destroying our self-esteem to breaking down the social connections between people, all in service of enriching and entrenching the societal power of the wealthiest and worst men on Earth, social media as it currently exists just flat out is not good for us.
As someone who made her career off social media, it’s been an ongoing challenge reconciling with how I am linked to something that can be fairly conclusively linked to the destruction of our personal health and civil society. I feel a sense of guilt for posting, regardless of what I post, because I feel like I am only encouraging people to continue to engage with these toxic platforms. As I most likely have written in a blog post before, I often describe being an “online content creator” as “smoking brain cigarettes in order to sell brain cigarettes to children, for no guaranteed pay, and also the brain cigarettes turn you into a nazi“.
While I have ranted and grumbled about this both in private and in public for years, I only fully realized just how bad for me the social media environment was and is. I have written a few times about the total body joint pain I had to deal with in 2022, and which caused me to change a lot about my life. That situation undoubtedly arose from a build up of chronic stress from working as an online creator, and one key thing which I only recently realized the significance of, was how during that time, if I was upset or startled or surprised, or experienced any kind of sudden shock, including things as simple as sneezing or tripping over something, I would experience a kind of tingling itchiness all over my body. This feeling was very similar to the histamine reaction I would get all over my body when I had cancer. Histamines are usually associated with allergic reactions and the cancer I had was a cancer of the immune system (Hodgkin’s Lymphoma). So, for my body to respond to even minor shock and stress with an immune reaction, while at the same time experiencing severe joint pain and stiffness all over my body, I can only conclude that the stress of my life at that time was causing my body to attack itself in an effort to curb a perceived, omnipresent threat.
The past few months I simply haven’t been on social media. I deleted it all from my phone and closed all the tabs on my browsers (yes, even Bluesky). And, I have to say, it has been wonderful. One thing in particular I have noticed after taking this break is that I no longer feel that tingling when I’m startled. My body and mind have been able to calm down in a way they most likely could not have if I had continued to engage online.
Sadly, that blissful period must come to an end.
I am, at the end of the day, an artist, and an artist must put herself out there into the world, and the #1 way to do that in this terrible, digital age is via social media. So the apps are back on my phone, the tabs are opened in my browser, and I must now return to “digital panhandling”, as my haters used to refer to what people in my profession do. So keep an eye out for more posts from me, as I have a lot of exciting projects coming down the pipe that I will be talking about.
What have I been doing though?
The little kids I teach fight over who gets to hold my hand when we make a circle and I get called ‘mommy’ by somebody most weeks. It’s a good life.
Well, I have been teaching a whole lot of karate. I run the Kumakai kid’s class now, and just recently I was running a week-long “Super Hero Camp”, where kids make art and practice martial arts. Next month, I will be teaching a week-long series of karate classes as part of Pride Month celebrations. I am also in the process of setting up my own LGBTQ+ Karate Club, but it has been a slow-going process of registration and bureaucracy, so I’ll keep you posted on the progress on that and maybe we will be able to train together sometime 🙂
Truthfully, a very large amount of my time has been spent in my training. I train almost as much as a professional athlete. One thing I have always been embarrassed to publicly admit, given how long I have trained in karate, is that I never did yet get around to testing for my black belt. I had various points in my life where I had planned to test, and it is a number of long stories I am very tired of telling as to why I never did, some of which led me to feel disillusioned with martial arts organizations and the notion of belts at all (I don’t even really like training in a dogi anyways, to tell the truth). But this Summer I will change that and finally test for my Shodan! I have little doubt that I will pass, but given how long a time it has been coming, I want to really pass. I want my black belt to mean what I think most people think a black belt means, which is a symbol of a high level of proficiency, if not mastery, rather than what it typically means in most martial arts, which is that you have an understanding of the basics and are now ready for the “real” training. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been training for 25 years, and I’ve taught for 20 of those years. I’ve achieved elite levels of physical ability at different points of my life, and I know fourth degree black belts who are intimidated by me, so at this point I really want my own black belt to mean something when I finally get it.
You’ll just have to take my word that I broke these boards by punching them. I’m up to two with one punch!
So I’m training every day. Usually between 3 to 5 hours each day. On the day of the Canadian election, I managed to stress workout for six hours straight without realizing it. Recently, I took up sumo wrestling and I will be competing in the Vancouver Sumo Basho later this month. It feels so exciting to be training for a competition, and I can feel the excitement of those I am training with as they help me to prepare for this purpose. I would like to compete more, not just in sumo but in different combat sports. At nearly 40 years old and in an era where trans participation in sports is being increasingly restricted, it may seem like a bad time for a struggling artist like myself to style herself as some kind of competitive athlete, but the way I see it, this is basically my last chance to see what I can seriously do before I get too old or the environment gets too unfriendly. Who knows? Perhaps my competing can even serve some useful purpose for advancing trans acceptance.
To be fully honest, spending so much time training really does take a toll on the ol’ income, especially while being on hiatus from social media. This month in particular, with the Basho coming up and no large karate workshops scheduled, I need to make up some extra income to pay all the bills come June.
Any contribution my dear readers can make to my ko-fi will go a long way in helping me to maintain my progress and momentum on this journey to become the next trans ambassador in combat sports and martial arts.
Similarly, anyone who is able to support me on Patreon will be massively contributing to my ability to continue what I do on an ongoing basis. I know my public output has been lacking, so I supremely appreciate all of those who have continued to support me.
I am also opening up commissions and will be selling off some pieces to make up some income. Send me an e-mail at lifeofbria at gmaildotcom to inquire about commissioning me, and keep an eye out for posts about upcoming art sales.
My very first landscape on canvas. Thanks for the donations, Amy!
My true artistic passion these past several months has been my landscape paintings. I began painting watercolours as a means of improving my backgrounds and environments for graphic novels, but it has since evolved into an art practice and passionate obsession unto itself.
I started with simple watercolors made with dollarstore materials back in 2023, these grew in sophistication over 2024, and in 2025, thanks to donation of canvases and an easel by a friend who was moving out of town, I have graduated to painting at a much larger size on canvas with acrylics.
I don’t think the photos I have been able to take really do them justice, but I really am very proud of this new kind of work. I intend to have a gallery show later this year, and I will write in greater detail about my past painting work in a future post, but suffice it to say, this has been a major focus of mine during my offline vacation. I average about one painting per month. I’d like to go faster so I can have enough pieces for a show sooner, but I should be encouraging myself to find balance rather than Horse-Timing it 😉
While there are a number of other secret projects that I will be able to talk about in future, the most exciting new development I will share with you today is that I have been cast in what is my largest theater role to date!
Since 2018, I have been involved in local Vancouver theater productions as an actor, and since 2022 I have been involved in workshop readings of a particular play that I think for now I’ll leave unnamed just in case the production team are not yet ready to make public cast announcements. This year that play is going to a full stage production, and I was invited to audition for the role I had read for during the lengthy workshop process.
Unfortunately, I did not get that audition.
I have an idea of what I did wrong in the audition, despite being a shoe-in for the role. I think I held myself back in the audition in the same way that I have often held myself back out of fear of being too much, fear of crossing boundaries, and fear of rejection. I often haven’t posted art because I feared rejection. I would build things up in my mind and assume failure before I ever tried. Walking away from social media was more than a much needed break for my health or a statement about my ethics, but also a way of playing into my fears and preemptively avoiding rejection and failure by an algorithm that doesn’t exactly value the same things I do. I have been sitting on a mountain of paintings I am immensely proud of that I have shown to nobody because I’m afraid of those being rejected. I stopped trying to test for my black belt because I feared the rejection of authorities about something that was central to my identity. I avoided all competition because I both feared losing but also feared crossing boundaries and taking up too much space by doing what it would take to win.
You can’t fail if you don’t try, right?
I think this is a very common problem for trans people. We hide our true selves from the world and learn very early on that expressing our true selves will bring trouble. We spend years telling ourselves that we can’t have what we want and that we are wrong for wanting it.
This past weekend I was visiting my mom, and she brought out a silver medal from a judo competition from when I was nine years old. I was a fat little kid who hated everything, and who especially hated being told what to do (funny what effect assigning the wrong gender to a child will have on their behaviour). But as a fat little kid who was practically wider than I was tall, I was really good at judo, despite hating it like I hated everything else people made me do.
At this little tournament that was held at the end of the training season, I was not wanting to participate in my typical fashion, and so in my first match I just refused to do anything, and I was thrown, pinned, and consequently, I lost. But then one of the instructors explained to me how, if I hated it so much, I could get it over with without having to be thrown and pinned by throwing and pinning my opponent. And so I did, and I easily won every match and got a silver medal. I did so well, it was clear I would have gotten gold if I had just tried from the get-go. My mom had hoped this victory would encourage me to stick with judo, but unfortunately for my future combat sports aspirations, I was still a lazy little kid who hated everything, and so I did not stick with judo – arguably one of the best foundations one can have for combat sports.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with coming in second place, but now I have this silver medal that basically stands as a testament to the time I held myself back from a victory that could have easily been mine.
So now I’m tired of holding myself back.
I’m extremely lucky. I’m not sure what happened, but despite initially being rejected for the part in that play, I have since been offered the role! I hope all is well with whoever was initially given the part, and it certainly doesn’t feel great to be second choice for something, but I will not turn down this incredible opportunity.
I’m tired of assuming I won’t be good enough or that my attempts to be the best I can be will cross boundaries and bring another form of rejection. I’m not holding back in my training, I’m not holding back in competition to test my training, I’m not holding back in my art, and I’m not holding back when I go out on stage and perform this Fall.
My main take away from the past few months: Don’t Hold Back!
Don’t Hold Back
Again, any contribution my dear readers can make to my ko-fi is greatly appreciated, doubly so to anyone who is able to support me on Patreon.
Life of Bria 