My Origin Story
For my performer bio, please see my booking info page!
If you ask my father about my origins, he’ll tell you that I, like he, am descended from Genghis Khan. (Who isn’t, though, really?) If you ask my mother, she’ll tell you that apparently she imagined all those hours of labor, as I informed her when I was about three that I was in fact her mother and that we just age backwards and forwards until we switch places. If you ask my hometown neighbors, they will tell you an elaborate story they made up over the years about how I was the child of my mother’s first (nonexistent) marriage and the only one of that batch of kids she got to keep, and how my brothers are actually only my half-brothers. (I think my fictional bio-dad is, like, a rodeo clown or a drag queen. That would really explain a lot.)
I’m the renegade spiritual love child of Mae West and George Sand. I’m a classically-trained actress, singer, and dancer who ran away to join the burlesque. I’m a writer, an instigator, the hero-worshiping granddaughter of a lifelong freedom fighter. I still have a mild-mannered secret identity that allows me to pass for normal amongst the straights, but having been irrevocably transformed after being caught in the fallout of a radioactive glitter bombing, I emerge at night as the Bohemian Bombshell known as Diva Darling, with the force of nature and the power to become larger than life.
What’s a “Femme Vitale”?
I thought it was time to reclaim the image of the femme fatale, an archetype that evolved as a way to demonize strong, clever, sexually powerful women by casting them as amoral, selfish, castrating manipulators, dangerous beauties whose independence inevitably caused the downfalls of men if not whole civilizations.
It’s time for the ascendance of the femme vitale, a new archetype of a strong, empowered, sexually liberated woman marked by creativity and vitality, not destructiveness; compassion over cruelty; joy and humor rather than vengeance and greed. She radiates the beauty of knowing that her worth to the world is measured by far more than inches, pounds, or dollars, and her stylishness comes from exuberant self-expression. And if she lures other men or women to anything, it’s to join her in the dazzling adventures of life or the daring crusades to remake the world in visionary splendor.
This is who I aspire to be.
Come Home to the House of Diva
For years, I’ve treated my personal social media spaces as virtual performance art venues where I had the freedom to entertain my friends to my heart’s content. (Continuing that favorite childhood game, “If I Keep Telling This Ridiculous Story to Make Daddy Lose His Shit Laughing, Will He Actually Drive Off the Road and Kill Us All This Time?”) I can’t even keep count of how many times friends and acquaintances have made a point of telling me what a kick they get out of reading my posts, so apparently it was working.
Since I needed a performer website anyway, I decided to just create one site to be the hub of everything I do in real life– performing, event planning, theatrical production, writing, troublemaking– and also use it as a public space to share my dubious wisdom and random acts of weirdness.
I curse a lot. I have a dirty mind and a strange sense of humor. I was one of three people who prompted a clothing vendor to stock a shirt proclaiming “I’m a Delicate Fucking Flower”, which I’m told sells especially well among gay leather men. I’m ranty and opinionated. And I don’t tolerate bad behavior in my house– I have a delete button and I won’t hesitate to use it on anyone who comes here to cause trouble. If you’re good with all that, then strap in and enjoy the ride!