House of Trisha, a Lexicography

I’ve found so many people to look up to, and lived the dream so fucking hard in 2009, that I was able to put together all the qualities I loved and needed to see the most urgently. A character emerged who then begot a family of feminine troublemaking. She manifested at the same time that some femme friends began a photo series and I developed a rowdy performance honoring feminine hero/ines and a reclaimed church service for freaks and perverts; thus bred the House of Trisha.

Ask For Her Name
What + Who is House of Trisha? What is lusting to embody trouble, tenacity, mettle, verve, sexuality, inspiration, lust, mischief, pluckiness, quixotic eccentricity, attitude, dance floor magic, dreaming, cunning, toughness, stone, sugar, sex, femme…without a “who” to it?

Salome, Delilah, Lola, Little Debbie, Queen Helene, Jolene, Liz, Medusa, Miss World, Pretty Young Thing, Shawty, Gloria, and Trisha. Trish/a. Multiplicity and essences of all those babes you wanted to be, fuck, or avoid: too many qualities in one personality, many personalities for multiple environs. I call forth Trisha to manifest when I am tough and when I am small, when I roll with homegirls or solo into the world, when I’m interacting or schemeing; and come to me, she does. She could come to you as easily, she’s surely not all mine.

Some pre-Trishas were at Santa Anita Racetrack in LA, dressed fabulously and betting on horses based on their names only. When he fifth race came up and Crazy Trisha was on the list, we became excited.
“Get on track girl!”
“No she is too CRAZY to stay on the track!”
“But maybe she’s so crazy she can win!”
Crazy Trisha did not win that day, but something was born with the knowledge of her that takes winning a trifecta to town []. Back in worlds we travel more frequently, Crazy Trisha reared her head one bourbon doublefisting, trampaging queereoke night, and has been manifesting ever since, becoming more of a mascot or saint than a brief description of one night’s troublemaking. Now Trisha represents qualities, manifests in photo shoots, and chosen family structure, and as an inspiration to the feminine in us all.

Trisha is of course first, what with her disruptive and unruly behavior; she is hot pink trouble but keeps it on the real, ejaculates if you can hold it down, smarts for you. She could be smarter than you but doesn’t want to show it, yet.

Trisha will have your back - if she’s around. Girl is on the move, because Trisha doesn’t get bored – she gets up to something. She’s half crazy, and that’s her brilliant side. Femme’s got no boundaries and if you find her addictive, you’re not the only one. Yet, she has no outstanding physical qualities besides the fact that her spirit makes her intensely attractive.

Small-town experience and big city smarts. Trisha is not a mindreader but she can seem like one. Trisha grows her own, feeds her kind, and would never eat them. Loyalty – but loyalty that’s secondary to adventure – guides Trisha. Get her while you can, or maybe the next time she comes to town.

She hides spells in cigarette packs, weaves magic late at night on the street, knocks over drinks, soils dresses, dances too close with your lover, eats from the fridge, kisses strangers, breaks into song, talks fast, knows someone everywhere she goes, gets it wrong and tries again. She’s drinking from the wine bottle and waving a rainbow flag that says “These Colors Don’t Run.” Lipstick stains and attitude; sticking up for herself and the people she likes around her.

Trisha is quite simply, a bad girl; the part of us who wants to be out of control and who has all the faculties to do it and succeed at being unbounded without causing major damage. Trisha fears no rules, no person, no encounter, because she’s completely unselfconscious, she’s doing and if you’re just watching, why aren’t you doing, too?

Now, because Trisha is great and calls people to her, she has bad and good sisters.
Trish is the good-girl little sister to Trisha; where Trisha spends her xmas money on booze, Trish buys a bond. Where Trisha dropped out of high school because it was heteronormative and boring, Trish was salutatorian. One of Trisha’s friends said “Slutatorian” and she got decked. Trish is trying to make good and clean up Trisha’s messes, while Trisha fails to notice the sacrifice. Trisha is a necessary foil, but don’t underestimate her: she’s getting shit done.

Craylene is a theatre character; Trisha’s country second cousin. When we are truly acting out. Craylene is the gorgeous, phoenix-like failure who flashes flame fast. Where Trisha can save the day, neither Craylene - or her neighbor-on-TV Trasha - can, will, or necessarily even want to try. Fuck your nice day. If Trisha is half crazy, Craylene got the other half and it’s meaner.

Judy has a dark past. She’s seen it all and she’s over it all. Judy is staying in nursing hangovers long gone. Judy gives good advice but no, you won’t see her at the bars to get it from her.

Trasha is a tacky reproduction of Craylene; a permutation of Trisha that is for the Big Screen only, as understood by outsiders looking in, wanting her story to be more dire than it is. Her Big Hair is from the set stylist and not real life, her stonewash a reproduction, and we want our friend back, not the scripted version. Because all the real trash folks I know are badass and resilient as fuck, she is only a simulacra of Trisha; because much like being trash, you have to live it to get it right. Trasha is not tragic as much as she is epically stagnant, waiting for the next big thing and someone needs to say: honey, it’s not on TV.

Lil’ CrayCray
Trisha/Trasha’s performance art character, Lil’ CrayCray is an homage to Craylene. When Trisha sees Craylene getting crazy, she puts it all on stage in a tragic-glorious attempt to make getting CrayCray look as out of control as it is. Art as bearing witness but also acting as a warning signal. Lil C may soon release an album, she may get a show at Dixon Place, she might take it one the road and then she might blow all that money on coke and she’s living her dream in Berlin, in Austin, outa here, but whoa.

Acts of Naming:
We believe in Trisha because She Manifests by the act of believing in her; the naming is the game that writes her out.

If naming is not violence then at least it is a game of preserving definitions. Game because all names are fluid and all narratives have to many sides to understand. Trisha says, “eh, do your best and lets go out!"

Narratives about failure and success – we all secretly think that we’re a success story event though statistically we’ll probably just be “regular,” as in neither star material nor the basis of a tragic made for tv movie. Trisha is the part of us who fucks off the rules, is a mess, and doesn’t know it – and is still in one piece, fed, loved, we’re friends with Trisha, she doesn’t encompass the Other completely. Trisha isn’t more or less successful, she gives less of a fuck and that’s her realness, “What is success, anyway?!” she blurts out before hopping on her bike.

Why Trisha?

Trisha is my troublemaking sister and I need her. She’s groundbreaking and rule breaking and break dancing and heartbroken but prevailing and she manifests. She is my lesson in asking for it, in getting it.

Trisha is family, makes community because she’s a shit starter and shit-talker and her friends don’t have to take shit, either. She’s a defender and a destroyer, drunk texting or delivering a monologue; too big to be any single one of us.

A space-time rift allows some of us to come through with our brilliance intact. The regime of normals will be unbroken. And so will we. And so will Trisha.