Synchronicity Uptick and the Dirty Development Deal by the Historic Trust and the City of Vancouver Exposed

It's fair to say the content today is going to be all Bricks. The synchronicities have increased to a point where either I am starting to lose it, or I'm starting to arrive to a conclusion that brings me to an existential crisis. I began doing magickal work at the Academy in earnest in Mid July. I figured it would really kick things off and have bleedthrough, and I wasn't wrong. Here's a rough chronicle of the last month's significant brick activity, before I forget to document it all. 

On July 16th  my friend Janet tells me that her roommate bought a bunch of bricks to make a garden path. There are Hiddens.

Her second batch of bricks on July 23 includes a rare one in there I've wanted since January. I've only seen one of these in person at Farrar's Bistro and I'm over the moon. Janet also snags a Hidden stamped one for herself too and really starts to get into the bricks too.

She and I meet at the Academy on July 25th to exchange gifts and have a socially distanced lunch. We both feel a sense of peace, calm and happiness there that we haven't felt for weeks. In a world gone mad we feel drawn to there more than ever. Janet brings me the two bricks and a gorgeous poster of Pan that her roommate (a professional artist) has drawn and gifted me. We joke about bringing Pan to a nun meeting.

While we eat at a picnic table outside the east entrance a bumblebee drops out of the sky and dies instantly. As it takes its last breath we both simultaneously go "Oh!" and reach for our bottles of water to try to give it water. Before we can do this a breeze comes and blows him through the crack of the picnic table. I bend over and search for him but he's gone.

My prizes from Janet

A few moments later we both see the head of what we think is a nun's habit briefly inside the academy in the glass immediately right to the east exit door (below). The building is locked and no one is inside. Janet gets an impression the nun watching us is "newer" than MoJo and Irish and has lots to say about the building. I also later buy a St. Joseph statue at my favorite local occult shop, an odd but welcome find.

Later, on August 13 John E.L. Tenney tweets about bees and what they mean:

It gives me pause. Janet feels our compassion was being tested by someone that lunch. The whole thing with the bee was just so odd that I noted it. I mean, dead bugs are everywhere all the time but the way it went down was very strange. 

Also on the 25th I mail three bricks to Twitter friends in different states. 

On July 29th I wake up to a surprise Columbian article discussing the demolition of the Academy's Smokestack and Outbuildings. I am gutted.

It is important to note that zero work has been done on these outbuildings for decades. Marathon Development already bought the land to the west of the main Academy site and now wants to buy the north lot where the outbuildings and smokestack are. The potential land deal now on the table is why there is a sudden rush to demolish the buildings. They are framing it as an urgent public safety issue versus an urgent make some cash issue.

On July 30th I went to the outbuildings to do a ritual and asked MoJo how to help save them. I shed tears and hugged the smokestack and apologized for what I feel is a great injustice. I asked MoJo to talk to me and randomly hit shuffle on the radio. This is a trick I use to talk to my father also. "No Diggity" by Blackstreet and "Mother's Talk" by Tears For Fears come up back to back. 

I emailed my past volunteer contact at the Historic Trust inquiring about my oral history volunteer project and the news article about the outbuildings. I received a response back that he is no longer with the Historic Trust and to contact the Director of Education. The new Director says all programs are suspended indefinitely until Covid passes. I am again devastated this morning. Did my contact get fired or quit? It instantly doesn't feel right and I began to rant about it on Twitter.

August 1st I buy two 1943 bricks and a 1942 from my usual antique store downtown, one 1943 is for Janet. She's really into these bricks now and wants to see if different years feel differently.

Additionally, on August 1st local newspaper Columbian comes out pro-demolition, publishing a short opinion piece minimizing the historic value of the buildings.

This article is misleading. The Laundry building was there by at least 1890 when  MoJo was and the Boiler by 1910. The Boiler also provided power to the St. Joseph hospital that was across the street. The Laundry room operated as a boys orphanage and held Spanish Flu patients in it. This building has more significance than they are admitting. The city and local media are both minimizing the importance of the outbuildings as part of the Academy Complex. 

That Sunday 8/2 Janet comes back to the Academy to read the bricks, as she's gifted in psychometry. She agrees with my assessment that the bricks are somehow energetic batteries. She reads the buildings and as she's there she meets a woman walking her dog. They discuss the pending demolition and the lady turns out to be a neighbor and tells her about the local neighborhood association that is angry and about their Facebook group. Janet passes this on to me when I arrive a few minutes later with her 1943 brick and I find the "Protect Providence Academy" group on Facebook. Sean Denniston from the Columbian article and his wife are in this group. 

Janet reports to Dave and I that the buildings and bricks and MoJo are pissed. There's corruption with the Hidden Trust and the City and something's fishy with it all and it needs to come out when the doorway is open as it is right now. They have no right to take down her buildings like this and that there's greed involved. There's secrets.

I ask the nuns and building if I can collect some brick pieces from the grounds here as they are just going in the trash anyway. 

August 5th the public meeting about the proposed demolition of the Academy outbuildings took place online due to Covid. Four hours of arguing about magical bricks on Webex and I was there for every word. That morning I began by going back to the Academy for another ritual. I felt more fired up this time and not sad as I was last time I visited. I again asked Mother Joseph to give me advice via the radio and she played "A Town Called Malice" from The Jam. I begin to really suspect something dirty is occurring and Janet's impressions are correct. 

There were 10 concerned members of the public who had our emails chosen as part of the agenda for the August 5 meeting. I was public comment number 6. There were many other emails sent in after the agenda was written, the public cares very much about this issue. My on the record comments are below:

I was not moved to speak at the meeting as a member of the Committee directly referenced some of my comments during the course of the discourse as it unfolded, but I was there for every twist and turn, and there were several.

The first thing they announced is that the smokestack would be taken off the table in tonight's discussion and brought up at a later meeting. I do not believe the smokestack would fall under the "unfit" code, and I'm sure that's why they tabled that part after seeing public outcry at the potential of the loss of the stack. They actually photoshopped it out of aerial photos of the site in the Architect's demolition plan: 

Clever but it's right here: 

It has always been noted as being saved in the Aegis plans. Before it stood there awkwardly in the corner, a concession due to how beloved it is. The public deemed this non-negotiable. I've spent plenty of time around this stack, this part of the structure is solid. 

The claim is that the stack is a danger to the public in the event of an earthquake and the estimated cost to retrofit it to be safe is $800,000. The stack is only 80 feet tall. That's $10,000 per foot of tower, which seems absurd. I can't wait to hear that estimate's insane cost explanation next meeting. She feels solid to me in every regard, missing a few bricks but overall in great shape.

The meeting agenda kicked off with an explanation how they will repair the main Academy building's foundation and plan to use original Hidden Brick salvaged from the demolition for the project. At the outset this all seems like its all a great idea. It is implied the land sale for Aegis will "save" the main building as a result of the funds from the sale, a necessary sacrifice to move forward for preservation of the main facility.

The Committee members ask the members of the Historic Trust if all the buildings on the site are made of all the original Hidden brick material and the head of the Historic Trust does not know the answer. This is important because if the building is repaired with newer material than the original the repairs could actually cause the site to lose value. The head of the Trust admits he doesn't know the answer about the age.

I'll repeat that.

The man in charge of the Historic Trust who owns and manages the site in question does not know basic information about the age, uniqueness or value of the materials that they insist they will preserve at the historically important site they are trying to demolish.  After stumbling on these basic questions, the head of the Trust is mostly quiet the rest of the meeting. It's clear he doesn't care or even know enough about the building to be at the table. He's dead weight.

The new Historic Trust corporate mouthpiece Holly Chamberlain (hired in 2019)  knows the statistics on the building, and steps in to answer the question about if all the bricks are original to the time period, which is YES. At the outset it is a relief to see someone speaking for the Trust that knows the building in and out.

She talks about the Hidden Brick Company's involvement and describes how the Trust really wants to further recognize not just the Hiddens but the actual workers involved with building the site. She explains how there are plans for this in the future onsite interpretive center that again, will be funded due to the site sale. This planned center is said to have a special tribute to Mother Joseph, as it should.

In a soothing, polished voice Ms. Chamberlain lines out the Historic Trust's Mitigation plan presented as part of their application for demolition of the outbuildings:

The Trust has filed a request with the City for demolition of the outbuildings (and smokestack - which has now mysteriously been tabled from tonight's discussion even though its undeniably tied to the outbuildings, and was mentioned in the news article also as on the chopping block) under an unfit building permit. They mention again at the beginning of the unfit building presentation that the smokestack is not up for discussion at this meeting despite the fact that moments later it is linked to the outbuildings being debated in this meeting.

They discuss about how they will make the Academy ADA compliant as part of the next phase of renovations funded by the Aegis project and explain the large cost to do this properly. Again, it is implied the sale of the lot for the outbuildings will help pay for the restoration of the main Academy building that will make it accessible to all. 

The Marathon Development team discusses how they will use the original Hidden brick material from the demolition of the outbuildings to restore the main building. It becomes clear that the Trust wants to pull down the outbuildings with the excuses they are too expensive to repair, they are a danger and public nuisance, and we can use the materials to make the big building more accessible for all. It's all very wrapped up neatly in their presentation. It's so sad we lose them, but now we have ALL these materials to save the rest!

The Historic Preservation Committee has valid concerns about what will happen to these historic and irreplaceable outbuilding materials if the demolition is approved. How can we protect them from loss? Who decides if they are salvageable or should be tossed? What is the expected percentage that can be salvaged?

The Trust says they will keep items of significance for their interpretive center, saying the boiler room doors are a planned centerpiece. They can not make a guess as to when the planned interpretive center will open, Covid causing "research issues". There is no timeline for the interpretive center, but they're ready to roll on demolition. That's interesting given I was volunteering on an oral history project for the center and was told last week that the program was discontinued for now. They state they are planning social media posts and a podcast to help keep the community connected to the site until they can do in person tours again.

The Committee again asks the Trust, how many bricks will be saved according to the plan? Trust admits mortar removal "can damage" materials and they are "old and deteriorating". They will not give a percentage. This is dangerous as if they are granted their unfit building demolition there is no oversight to prevent all the materials from going into the trash. They could bring in a bulldozer and knock them all over and trash them all legally under this unfit permit if they wanted. This was not an accident, as we learn later in the meeting. Rules for historic sites are expensive.

The Historic Preservation Committee is mostly full of praise over phase one of the restoration, over $15 million sunk into the Academy since it was purchased by the Trust in 2015. The roof and the south balconies were completed and look excellent, but they are critical of the developer and restoration when it came to the lack of use of original materials. It is felt that while the repair is lovely it did not use enough reclaimed or repaired materials, too much went to the landfill. The concern about the bricks being discarded during demolition is warranted.

The next portion of the discussion about the demolition begins with architect Sree Thirunagari, a "Chief Building Official" for the City of Vancouver. He presents a study on the site's condition detailing the  deterioration of the building with photos, comparing them to the list of criteria for an unfit building. He says the outbuildings meet the unfit criteria and the building code seems to back up his criteria. He is very competent but quickly becomes defensive later under questioning from the Committee. 

The photos from inside the outbuildings are devastating. The Boiler Room had a fire and no repair attempt was ever made. 

The laundry building is in even a worse state, as I have seen with my own eyes. I truly believe the laundry is in fact a lost cause. Photos inside show similar destruction and back up their claims of an attractive nuisance.

Outside of the laundry is decaying badly also. I don't see how this building can be saved and it breaks my heart. 

The saddest reveal during his presentation is that part of the outbuilding structures has already been dismantled and raided. Part of the outbuilding that connected the smokestack, laundry and powerhouse is simply missing. An entire load bearing structure that was part of Mother Joseph's original design is simply gone, making them truly unstable. No one at the Trust can explain what happened nor pinpoint when, but it was after 1972 when the last National Historic Site registry was done and after the Boiler fire.

How convenient for a roughly 10 X 10 load bearing structure to have just disappeared mysteriously over time with no record. How convenient that no repairs were ever made after the boiler fire. 

The biggest problem with the unfit building demolition permit is that granting that permit requires no rules at all - that permit is designed for removal of a public nuisance, not a historic site. The Historic Trust should have filed for a demolition permit versus an unsafe building permit, so that there are extra rules in place due to the nature of the site's importance. 

The Committee asked the Trust to refile for a demolition permit versus an unfit building permit. The discussion is spicy and the City attorney finally admits they can't modify (read: won't), "unfile" or convert the unfit permit into a regular demo permit. But here's the thing - the City is who applies and enforces the code they say they can't modify. It's ridiculous. The committee asks if there's any protection for the building from the City's actions under Clark County law.

The County's attorney stepped in to comment: "We wish the County had input here but the City law says the city gets approval" - i/e there's no check on the City. They have the power to do whatever they want. 

Remember, the City has given special permissions for the site before.  Technically, the entire Academy site doesn't meet code as it's condemned due to no drainage anywhere in the lots due to the age. Continual flooding in the parking lot is an issue that is to be addressed with this project, according to the plan. A Committee member railed at the group, "Shame on you City of Vancouver, change your code!" 

The next presentation is from a consultant named Jessica Engeman with Meritus Consulting that is supposed to be an expert on historic buildings and their restoration and reuse. Engeman says McMenamins was asked about interest in the site in the past and declined. She says that they looked at office, apartment or restaurant use and none are "economically feasible". They came up with a cost of $4.6 million for the laundry, $1.5 million for the boiler, and $800K for smokestack restoration. They state that the buildings "cannot be restored in a sustainable economic fashion" in any way known. The damage from neglect is just too great.

So let's talk about that neglect. Why have these buildings sat here decaying in the exact same condition for over 40 years? About half way through, the meeting gets really interesting when it's time for the live public comments. All commenters are passionate about trying to save the site but some of them are actually bringing damning testimony towards all the parties involved in the Aegis project, including the Historic Trust.  The people who speak live during the meeting are insiders, and they blow the lid off of the whole project.

Former City Council member Sarah Fox is careful to note that she attends the meeting about the demolition as a member of the public. She admits when she was on a private, insider tour given by the Historic Trust a few years ago she had a shocking experience. Not only was she surprised at the total access she was given to the outbuildings (she called it "freewheeling" at this supposedly dangerous site), the Trust specifically told her the outbuildings were being salvaged to restore the main building. The plan was always to tear them down.

Here's the meeting clip beginning with Sarah's statement where you can hear the whole sordid story for yourself, from a City of Vancouver insider here.

No one from the Trust denies there was talk of them being salvaged for materials during this meeting. This is the complete opposite of what they told the public when they first announced the Aegis project, and what they have been telling visitors at the Academy for years - that restoration of all the complex was the priority, removal was last resort. 

It was clearly all a lie. They have willfully neglected the outbuildings so that they would fall under the unfit status and be able to be fast tracked for a cheap removal for the gigantic apartment complex that suddenly has a much larger footprint to work with if they are gone. 

Vice Chair of the Historical Preservation Committee Sean Denniston (mentioned in the July 29 Columbian article above) adjourned himself before the discussion over the Academy began. He attended as a member of the public versus as a member of the HPC, avoiding a conflict of interest. He feels very passionately that the Historic Trust has in fact neglected these buildings on purpose and is taking shortcuts for demolition due to greed. He brought actual proof to back up his explosive claims.

Voice shaking with fury, he read out loud public record emails between a City official and the development company discussing getting the unfit building code, it's a quick and easy deal. They allude to how easy it will be to tear down with an unfit building permit. It's very chummy and damning, and all City and County emails are public record. They are busted. The City, the Trust and Marathon Development let these buildings rot on purpose to gentrify the site and admitted it.

Here's one of the City emails from October 2019 that Denniston read to the Committee about the agreed plan to take shortcuts here.

Denniston then noted that he himself as a volunteer in the community and HPC Member, someone with lots of experience specifically with saving historic sites, approached the Trust multiple times to help write grants to raise the funds to save the buildings and was continually ignored. Sounds familiar... like someone who was to work on an oral history project beginning in March and has been stalled off again and again by Trust management until this month, when I was finally told that the program was killed. They do not want these outbuildings saved. They never did. 

I now have doubts we will ever see an Interpretive Center on this site. I don't believe a word the Historic Trust says anymore. They let MoJo and the community down. The Historic Trust has become the enemy. It needs to be gutted and people who actually care about saving buildings need to be brought on board. 

After all of this comes to light, the Historical Preservation Committee voted NO on the proposed Historic Trust Planned Mitigation Measures and came back with a formal request for a demo permit not a unfit permit due to the importance of the site. They requested that the Aegis project phase two build officially be tied to the demolition of the site so that it has to go through the due process for a more thorough determination. They firmly want to establish the link between the demo and the development to force the parties to obtain the proper permits and go through the proper process to demolition.

They want rules on salvage of materials, an architectural survey, 3D mapping, photographing, full reports, an archaeologist on site for demo if it comes to that. They also feel members of the public *cough* have ideas that should be considered before they give up and tear it down. They have been rotting 40 years, what's a few more months for the public to try to come up with ideas?

The Historic Preservation Committee have no legal power behind their "No" vote, and this should be getting media notice as this decision "sets a precedent that generations will look back on", and I agree.  The buildings will likely come down because they were so badly neglected but they need to come down using due process.  All but one committee member (she is new, and honestly, I feel a plant) agree the site needs more consideration before demolition is just accepted. They drafted a recommendation that has no legal power but is damning. 

Let's face it, the bad guys are probably going to win and are probably going to tear them down. The two outbuildings definitely are done, the Stack is the real prize to focus on now. If they do tear down it won't be in the dead of night and without consequences from the public. It's terrifying an all volunteer committee at the HPC is the only thing keeping this precious site protected from this development deal. 

I gave Janet the meeting details over instant messenger and she wakes up at 4am the Morning of August 6th realizing she was right about the psychic impressions she got when she went to the bricks on August 2nd. 

There has been no public media report from The Columbian or other media other than the Protect Providence Academy Facebook page about the alleged corruption and collusion between the City, Marathon Development, and the Historic Trust. 

August 6th, the day after the long meeting, I am rewarded three times for my efforts. My tattoo artist finally emailed me back about getting my Brick tattoo. I had preordered a handbag months ago and was contacted by the seamstress that it was in production. In the mail that night were an order of milagros - Sacred Hearts. I witched them on the brick from the Academy. Janet is also rewarded this day with something personal she wants very badly.

Also on August 6th, another Twitter friend of mine in Michigan dreams about the bricks. They were talking to everyone the day after the big meeting I guess:

Additionally, Janet discovers the veve (sigil) for Erzulie, the loa of Love the day after. Yep, a sacred heart. 

August 7th I used the Rose of Jericho I purchased some time ago but have been waiting for the right time to use. I perform an ancestor ritual intended to get in contact with Mother Joseph. I ask her for guidance and help to save the Academy. 

The Milagro charm I put in the skull bowl of water ends up entwined with the Rose of Jericho that blooms over night. 

The same night, Janet lights a candle and asks MoJo and Mother Gamelin for funds to save the outbuildings. She reports that the candle flame moves as if the door or window is open when it is not. 

August 8th I go to Mother Joseph Catholic Cemetery where I perform the second part of the ritual asking for communication with Mother Joseph for the purpose of helping the Academy and wash her tombstone with the Rose of Jericho water. I do some other stuff that hasn't had results...yet.

Also on August 8, Twitter friend John E.L. Tenney digs up a red brick behind his garage in Michigan and we have a discussion about it. I'm thrilled by this as the big joke ongoing between us is Tenney always does everything first and then I follow up years later. Now he's in the bricks and I'm blaming myself. (Also, I was born in Michigan and it's interesting that my friends in Michigan are all having brick things happen).

August 12th my friend and fellow liminal.earth Ambassador Holly had a super vivid dream about the bricks, the tower, and some symbols that I immediately understood as being related to Mother Joseph and myself. It definitely was an answer that she heard my request. Holly's blog detailing the dream is here. Holly has one of the most vivid, active dream lives I've ever known. This week since I paged MoJo at the cemetery I had a lot of personal stress going on and I haven't been sleeping well nor dreaming as a result. I think she was sick of waiting for my brain to be available and went down the line to Holly to answer.

Also this week, a friend of mine had a tweet mentioning bricks go viral across social media platforms, a new story about Roman brick discoveries came out, a Twitter bot known as Gef the Mongoose repeated a tweet about bricks, and Vice came out with an article about and the fact that bricks work as batteries... just like we've been saying they do.

On August 15th, an antique Sacred Heart Medallion from Quebec arrived with the Prayer Card for Sainte Anne de Beaupre as a bonus. I had no idea this holy site existed in Montreal and it will be added to the visit list. I don't know what I'll find down this rabbit hole but I have an intuition it's important.

Same day, a new twitter follower is tagged by a mutual when she remote views a brick school with glass doors. She mentions it having blue trim. The Academy had steel blue trim circa 1910. 

Postcard circa 1910, my collection:

I also went to the usual store for antique Hiddens but they were out today. I felt like there was something else there I needed so I walked around for a few. I found a box of old cards from a defunct bank in the 1990s. William Papas was an award winning watercolor artist who died in 2002. He was commissioned by the Bank of Vancouver to create a series of local paintings. "The Academy" and another watercolor of downtown was found today, a nice consolation prize. 

I found a listing of the Bank of Vancouver exhibit noted on the Papas website but can't find any image of this painting online anywhere, or a specific reference to it. I cannot find a reference to the second card that remained in the box either. This ended up being more of a rarity that I originally realized. I ordered a used book about his work in the Portland area in case it is inside.

The bricks are awake and talking to everyone that is paying attention. I'm definitely paying attention. Does the fact that it's all bricks all the time mean that everything truly is a simulation? Why are bricks suddenly EVERYWHERE? If nothing is real and everything is manufactured in our minds, the increase in bricks would definitely be something my subconscious would influence.  If I think about this for too long I start to get into existential crisis mode.

As an experiment with a good and trusted friend who also similarly feels that we are in a simulation, we together chose a completely neutral item and decided to try to pump energy into thinking about it to see if we could create repeated patterns, like bricks, and moths, and a few other synchronicities that have been popping up for others. The idea behind this is that if we spent a few moments thinking about our random target if this is all a simulation we will start seeing it "play back" and reflect what we are putting into it more frequently. So far it's not had any reportable results. 

Brick Mojo: The Beginning

I recently had one of the most challenging weeks of my life and have managed to come out intact again.

I made a promise to The Sisters. Thank you, Mother Joseph and Emilie Gamelin.

I've been slacking on the writing as other things happened that required my immediate attention. 

It's also PRIDE month for a few more days. So here's the beginning. 

Introduction

In 2019 while browsing the booths of a local antique store, I found a handsome, cherry red brick with "1871" stamped on it, bearing a tag that said "Local Hidden Brick". A fan of old building materials and oddities in particular, I gladly paid $10 and went home mildly curious about my new prize. At the time I couldn't have had any idea how important that particular brick would become in my life.

It's a total cliche, but my childhood experience is important to this story. I was born in the 1970's when the concepts of feminism and gender equality had begun to seep into the general consciousness of American society. My family of origin had zero interest in anything outside of traditional gender roles. My father worked and my mother stayed home and kept the home in order as he didn't want her to work.

When I was three years old I demanded to be turned back into a boy. When asked why I wanted to be a boy, I remarked that being a girl was boring and that I missed my tools. My father, a talented hobby mechanic, found this hilarious and began to nurture my natural interest in all things mechanical and to do with construction. He was thrilled that even though I was a girl he almost had another son.

He was a General Superintendent for a construction company, and looking back now I'm amazed at the amount of access I was granted to this world as a kid. All it would take was enough begging about his work and he'd eventually satisfy my curiosity.  We'd jump in the truck, he would slap a too-large hardhat on my head and lead me through the mud to gawk at whatever he was building. I toured aluminum factories, grain plants, silos, railroads, warehouses, and occasionally had the thrill of operating a digger or other equipment. The 1980's were a different time. OSHA would be horrified.

At home he always had at least one classic car he was restoring and soon time with him in the garage became a regular part of my routine. I had a natural aptitude for understanding mechanics and how things worked, so he took the time to teach me names of the various tools and their purposes. I had my own coveralls and creeper and used to hand him tools as he needed them when he was under the car. He was also a champion clay pigeon shooter and gunsmith, making many guns and reloading all of his shells himself with my assistance. I learned to read at age three sounding out "The Shotgun News" in his lap.

This was all done to the displeasure of my mother, who was herself a crown-winning beauty queen in the 1960s and would have loved nothing more than to have her one and only daughter follow in her footsteps. Complicating matters was that she was also very much under my chauvinist father's thumb, and his odd permissiveness of my wildness despite being female led her to a level of bitterness that she still can't fully acknowledge. My daddy was my hero, but he also was beating her. This violence was turned onto me by her. It was a mess.

I learned very quickly that allying myself with males was the way I could survive not only in my own home, but in school and throughout life. I'm not proud to admit that I was one of those that fell into the impossible self-hating trap of "I'm not like other girls," even though it felt absolutely true at the time. I felt like an alien on Planet Girl, an imposter. I hated my breasts as soon as they grew in, lying awake at night fantasizing about cutting them off with a knife from the kitchen's butcher block. I bought minimizer bras that old ladies would wear from Walmart and hid them layered underneath sports bras in shame.

I straight out wanted to die when my first period came. The sweet old lady that lived next door (my parents were divorced and my mother was never around by then) threw me a "Moon Party" to try to cheer me up and I just sat there and sobbed inconsolably.  I obviously looked like a girl but didn't feel like a girl, and spent a great amount of time staring in mirrors trying to understand myself and wishing I could disappear. Dysphoria wasn't acknowledged yet as a thing anywhere, but even early on I felt like I'd been somehow cheated of the "real" me.

When Brandon Teena and Matthew Shepard were murdered my Catholic family expressed thoughts that they somehow deserved it by baiting people and "lying" about their gender or sexuality. My beloved father was homophobic as well. I had no one to talk to about my complicated feelings and just gradually hated myself more and more, a confused mess trying to be the boys and get with the boys at the same time. I felt like I just never fit.

You would think that the fact that most of my best friends in high school were gay and I faced being grounded for trying to wear a tux to my Junior Prom would have clued my mother in. Even years later when she inquired why my "roommate" Liz was asleep in my bed when she dropped by my place unannounced she wasn't ready to face the truth about who her daughter was. I liked virtually all genders when it came to dating but was always powerfully attracted to androgyny in all forms. The girls I liked were masculine leaning types, and it was not uncommon to share makeup with guys I dated either. I think I recognized myself as belonging comfortably somewhere in the middle and steered that way naturally.

My story isn't unique, and it isn't even as traumatic as a lot of LGBTQ kids that grow up in non-supportive environments. I was able to fly under the radar a lot of the time until the war at home was brutal enough that my mother finally gave me the boot at age seventeen. The point of all of this disclosure is thus: growing up like that primed me for was noticing how some non-conforming people have managed to hide in plain sight since the beginning of time. Additionally, the closer women were able to ally themselves with men throughout history, the further they achieved some of their own goals. This adoption into a circle of men becomes even more critical for survival if the woman in question is gender non-conforming, which has always been a delicate balance.

I think about the tragedy of Jeanne D'Arc, later canonized as a Saint for her unjust execution due to her contributions to France's Hundred Years' War. Burned at the stake at a tender 19 years of age, her gender ensured she would never have the opportunity to learn to read or write. This beloved revolutionary hero even needed assistance signing her own name.

Taken to court for politically-motivated heresy charges, the government brought an additional charge of  "cross-dressing" against Jeanne. If she was found guilty on multiple charges she could be tried as a capital case and executed. It is a terrible irony that the male clothes and short hair Jeanne adapted as a technique to avoid rape on both the battlefield and while in prison served as the "proof" that helped doom her.

Another example native to the Pacific Northwest would be Josephine Monaghan, better known as "Little Joe." Born in 1847 in Buffalo, New York, to a prominent family, Josephine found herself pregnant and abandoned by her lover as a teen. She fled her family in disgrace after giving birth, leaving her child with her sister Helen to raise.  Heading West to start a new life, realizing it was too dangerous for a woman to travel alone, Josephine dressed in drag and began calling themselves "Little Joe (1)".

Joe headed to Idaho and mined gold, tried their hand at sheep herding, became a "cowhand and noted marksman (2)". For seventeen years Little Joe worked alongside men, as a man, saving funds to buy their own ranch. After a setback of being robbed of their life savings by someone they considered their friend, Little Joe eventually was able to take a homestead on Succor Creek in Southern Oregon near the town of Rockville. Little Joe lived there over two decades, voted and served on juries years before those rights were granted to women. It was only upon their death from pneumonia as their body was prepared for burial in 1903 that Little Joe's secret was discovered.

I firmly believe this phenomenon of women adopting "maleness" happened more frequently than was officially documented. Plain and simple, queer people have always existed. Because of our patriarchal society, "tomboys" are always seen as more permissible than "sissies".  It is seen as odd and yet admirable novelty when a woman is interested in taking up traditionally male interests. Women aligning with groups of men was also encouraged as it was common practice for men to take credit for the ideas and discoveries of their female counterparts, particularly in traditionally male occupations.

In science, Mary Anning's (b:1799-1847) work laid the foundation for Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution, for which she gets little credit. Few people know about 1892 Seattle-born Alice Ball, the first female and Black American to obtain a Master's degree and whose work led to a cutting-edge leprosy treatment, or about Netta Maria Stevens, who in 1905 developed the current XY chromosome system. It happened with Medicine, Dentistry, Construction, entrepreneurship of all kinds. Many women worked behind the scenes alongside men who were taking credit for their accomplishments.

I believe that Mother Joseph of the Sacred Heart was also one of these deeply under-credited women. When I discovered that Mother Joseph herself directly led to the creation of the 1871 brick I bought at the antique store, I began to look into her life. What I didn't expect was to have an undeniable, visceral connection to this remarkable Sister of Providence. Additionally, I believe that the open expression of her non-conforming gender deserves to be celebrated, much like her above mentioned counterparts.

There are many myths surrounding Mother Joseph and I became interested in digging out the actual truth to who she was. It is important to me to state that I firmly believe that all people (living or dead) have the right to keep their own sexuality and gender as private as they desire. In no way am I interested in speculating on either about Mother Joseph. However, as a gender non-conforming born-female I cannot deny that I instantly sensed her as kindred.

What's fascinating to me is that somehow, as a Catholic Nun, she managed to live her truth as a masculine-leaning individual, without apology, consequence, or regret. She was very aware of gender, often manipulating men by taking younger, prettier nuns with her to beg for funds for the communities she managed. Everyone whom encountered her knew she was different from other women, and she essentially dared anyone (well, other than God) to tell her this was a problem. Her life was a long series of rule-breaking, defiance, struggles with humility and other fascinating contradictions.

Born Esther Pariseau on April 17, 1823, she was the eldest daughter of ten. Esther grew up learning both traditionally female taught skills like sewing and embroidery from her mother Francoise and the construction skills that shaped her life's work from her carriage-maker father Joseph Pariseau.

Much like our friend Jeanne d'Arc, Esther's revolutionary spirit made itself known early in life. She admired her older brother, another Joseph, who led a Patriote militia allied with the Sons of Liberty in response to the political turmoil in French Canada.  The Napoleonic Wars were raging in France, and over in "new world" French Canada the Catholics were fighting for the right to practice their religion.

Soon young Joseph's oversized ego due his new leadership role irritated Esther so badly that she founded a chapter of what she called Younger Sons and Daughters of Liberty as a home guard militia. Over 40 ten-to-fourteen year old boys and girls were then trained by Esther, including her older brother Stanislaus. Stanislaus, being male, was technically in charge of the brigade but Esther herself frequently took over command without complaint (3). It was only when her father advised her that he had received a message directly from God to cease their revolutionary activities that Esther agreed to give up the fight and disband their brigade (4).

It's telling that when she joined the Sisters of Providence at age twenty she named herself Joseph, after her father, brother, and the father of Jesus in lieu of the typical female names nuns adorn themselves with. Saint Joseph is also known as "The Worker" and she felt a special connection to Him throughout her life. Her particularly varied set of skills was unusual for the time, reflected in the way her father proudly introduces Esther to Mother Emilie Gamelin, the first Superior of the House of Providence, to Esther's reported embarrassment in December 1844:

"She can read and write and figure accurately. She can cook and sew and spin and do all manner of housework as well. She has learned carpentry from me and can handle tools as well as I can. Moreover, she can plan and supervise the work of others, and I assure you, Madame, she will someday make a very good superior (5)".

She also knew how to identify appropriate quality timber for various uses, farm, draw up architectural plans, construct buildings...and make bricks. She's often incorrectly listed as the First Female Architect in North America, an honor that actually goes to Louise Blanchard Bethune. The confusion persists partly due to disagreement of what is considered to be an architect's job description.

"Architect" comes from the Greek architekton, which translates loosely to "master carpenter". Later, 1734's The Builder's Dictionary calls an architect: "a Master Workman in a Building, he who designs the Model or draws the Plot, Plan or Draught of the whole Fabrick; whose Business it is to consider the whole Manner and Method of the Building; and also to compute the Charge and Expence (6)". Mother Joseph did all of this of course, but since she was both female and her projects were all public works through the Sisters of Providence there were few official offices or positions to be noted.

Both Bethune and Mother Joseph were actively credited with important architectural buildings by 1881, but Bethune opened her own office as a married woman in 1885, making her the official first professional female Architect (7). Both women were using similar Parisian Beaux-Arts principles in their designs even though the School of Fine Arts didn't admit women until 1898(8). The best way to gain skills as an architect in the 19th century was through apprenticeship, and these positions were only open to men at the time unless a rare male family member agreed to take a woman under their wing. It was difficult if not impossible for women to conduct any sort of business transactions without a trusted male assisting them. Women could not buy or sell property, vote, or engage in legal contracts at the time Mother Joseph was living.

I discovered during research that Mother Joseph was particularly intuitive and skilled at making and keeping the kind of relationships she needed with men to get what she saw as God's work done.  Additionally, her known mastery of many carpentry and masonry skills have helped her reach an almost mythical status as a six-foot tall nun who always wore tools around her religious habit:

"She could use the saw and hammer with the skill of a trained artisan. Once she even sawed the head of the statue of St. Joseph that it might be replaced by one more becoming to the saint. This was but an accidental display of skill, but the workmen she employed knew and felt that they were in the service of a master architect, and that nothing short of the best would escape her critical eye (9)".

Repeatedly, it noted in original sources who knew her how masculine Mother Joseph was, typically paired with breathless descriptions of her skills as a worker with restless drive:

"Immensely occupied ever with creatures and the material interests of the community, Mother Joseph never lost the presence of the Creator. A vein of spiritual energy ran from action to action... her masculine energy and her devotion to the growing West...(10)". This admired energy directly powered a career of over 46 years, building over 30 schools and hospitals here in the Pacific Northwest, and the rise of the Providence Health System that still serves the West today.

My fascination with Mother Joseph reached a fever pitch when I happened upon the following nugget in "The Bell And The River", a biography of her life written by Sister Mary of the Blessed Sacrament McCrosson:

"By the time she was twelve she knew the name and purpose of each of her father's tools; moreover, her hands knew the feel of them. Sometimes he permitted her to put them carefully in place for him in the meticulous order which is the mark of the craftsman. Very early he taught her how to grasp the hickory-handled hammer to best advantage. She loved the power that came to her with its sturdy strength, and she liked to keep it with her, hooked over her belt when not in use. She also learned to use the knife, the saw, the chisel, the drawknife, the spokeshave, the bit brace, the plane, the square. She watched iron become white-hot in the forge and shower sparks as it was shaped and hammered on the anvil. Sometimes, even, she was allowed to take Joseph's place with the bellows. She was not only fascinated and awed as something serviceable and practical emerged from her father's workmanship; she was also kindled to emulate his creative achievements" (p.18).

I had a visceral reaction to reading about Esther's time with her father, slamming me back to being a kid in the garage with my own dad with a whiplash level of deja vu. This passage in otherwise admittedly dry text about the life of a nun whetted my appetite with a portrait of a woman who defied both odds and expectations of her time. As I researched Mother Joseph's life, I found myself dumbfounded at a series of continual synchronicities.

I've noticed that these sorts of synchronicities can often become contagious. Possibly even by reading these words you could wind up riding your own wild "synchro wave," leading to your own version of Brick MoJo. Carl Jung is first credited with the concept of synchronicity, which essentially theorizes that events can be "meaningful coincidences" that otherwise would seem unrelated or unimportant if they happened singularly. Jung argued that synchronicities were the cause of paranormal phenomena, and the theory is still considered pseudoscience since about 1920.

The most powerful synchronicities I have experienced have been things that were only meaningful to me personally. This writing is an attempt at distilling some of that meaning into a worthy tribute, as I believe that Mother Joseph of the Sacred Heart deserves to be recognized for how truly important she was. (We will get to the paranormal phenomena... she's right in the middle of it.) I never expected to be so wildly admirable of a Catholic nun, particularly given my early experiences with the church.  My hope is that by the end of this volume you may be fond of her too, despite how complicated I feel the legacy of the Sisters of Providence is.

**
Footnotes:
1 - (Steber, Rick, “Women of the West”.  P. 21)
2 - (Steber, Rick, p. 21)
3 - (McCrosson, Sister Mary of the Blessed Sacrament. “The Bell and the River”, p 27)
4 - (McCrosson, p. 29)
5 - (McCrosson, p. 43)
6 - (Blank, Carla & Martin, Tania - “Storming the Old Boy’s Citadel”, p. 20.)
7 -  (Blank, Carla & Martin, Tania, p. 14)
8 - (Blank, Carla & Martin, Tania, p. 15)
9 -  (Sister Mary James - “Providence A Sketch of the Sisters of Charity of Providence in the Northwest 1856 - 1931”, P. 83).
10 - (Sister Mary James, p. 85-86)

Podcast Appearances and Synchronicities Uptick!

Big Brick news - I recently recorded a chat with Rick at Some Other Sphere podcast about our favorite bricks. It was the first public speaking experience I've had since college, and so say I was nervous was an understatement. Rick's patience and graciousness helped me get through my crippling anxiety and provided a great first podcast experience. Our chat can be heard HERE.

Additionally, there will be a second appearance by yours truly on another podcast called Nox Mente. This one will stream live on you tube March 18th, 6pm Pacific Time. Nox Mente can be found HERE. 

The bricks are in charge, I'm just along for the ride at this point as things are ramping up. And the ride is still ongoing. 

Back when we took our tour at the Providence Academy, our docent gave me the name of a biography about Mother Joseph that I should read, "The Bell and the River," written by another of the Sisters of Providence. Immediately after the tour, I walked across the street to the Vancouver downtown library to check the book out but discovered it was in the Reference only section and couldn't leave the building. So I tracked one down on ebay, and immediately was slammed into another wave of heavy synchronicities. 

As quickly as page 18, I literally gasped at the description of young Esther/MJ in the carriage shop with her father learning his tools. I had an identical, and I mean identical, experience in my father's garage working on cars with him. He would quiz me as I sat there with my eyes closed and chose by feel. I had the strangest sense of deja vu reading the above paragraph again and again. 

Of course the paternal side of my family with our history as Nascar pit crew, mechanics, construction superintendents reminds me of MJ and her family's lineage. I come from a long line of fixers. What I wasn't expecting was to be slammed into an indisputable link to the lost, disconnected maternal line of my ancestry.

My mother and I don't speak for a number of reasons, our bond completely severed shortly after my grandmother Donna passed, who was the usual peacemaker between the two of us. 

My maternal grandparents on their wedding day and great grandparents, Ceil on the right.

Peacemaker Donna (Prince) Halvorson on the left with her new husband Bob, great Grandmother Cecelia (Sadlier) Prince on the left with her husband Harold. I realized when I worked in a town called Woodland, Washington (about 20 minutes north of Vancouver) that my Great Grandmother's distant cousins, the Sadliers, were out in the area. I sold them insurance for their construction business once upon a time. Most of the Sadliers came over via Montreal, Canada via New York City. Some fared better than others.

My great great grandfather Joseph Sadlier ended up going to the Midwest via Illinois and then Minnesota, where the rest of the maternal line was from. By all accounts he was a poor, illiterate but hard working Irish farm immigrant. My great grandmother Cecelia grew up on a farm in Illinois and only had a sixth grade education but was one of the smartest humans I've ever encountered. She knew and understood people in a fascinating, nearly intuitive way that couldn't be taught from a book.

If you go back far enough, Joseph Sadlier is definitely related to the original Sadliers that came over from Ireland. A relative named Katherine becomes important later, as she's the literal link to my line and another line of Sadliers linked to the Mother Joseph story. 

Great granny Ceil was also nearly a Catholic nun. Much like our friend Mother Joseph, my granny Ceil joined a convent as a young woman after feeling called towards a life of service to the poor and infirm. My great grandfather Harold Prince was brought to Hibbing, Minnesota to work in the open pit mine there. (This is the same mine that brings my father to town for work many years later where he meets my mother.) Similar to the beginnings of the city of Vancouver, the Catholic Church in Hibbing, Minnesota built a huge parish to attract families to the area so the miners would stay in the area and raise families. 

Upon meeting Ceil at a fancy dinner held to welcome the new miners to town, Harold falls in love at first sight with the tiny spitfire and converts to Catholicism. My grandfather does the same to marry Harold and Ceil's daughter Donna later. Harold annoyed the other nuns at the convent, serenading my great grandmother outside the window every night until she agreed to not take her final vows as a nun. It's quite the romantic story.

Great granny herself was pretty cool. She introduced me to a lifelong love of horror movies, despite her strong and unwavering Catholic faith throughout her life. I had zero problems with great granny. She was very close to my mother growing up, so I didn't keep her very close growing up as my mother and I were consistently conflicted, but she was always kind to me.

So why all this yammering about the Sadlier family, who I don't even really know? Well... a relative of mine named Katherine Sadlier is related directly to a famous author named Mary Ann Sadlier, who is pretty easy to trace. 

Dennis and James? Well... let's just say they literally saved Mother Joseph and her other sisters from a likely doom when they arrived in New York City on their way out here to the Oregon Territory, according to the Bell and the River: 

Yes, my ancestors, heavily involved with the Catholic Church, did MJ and company a solid way back in 1852. Too weird!

The rest of the book (I'm only half done) really helps endear MJ further to me, as she literally begged not to be put in charge several times and worked through some very familiar demons surrounding feelings of inadequacy. Even recording podcasts about bricks are forcing me to do very real, deep work on myself. I'm doing it for the bricks. 

I feel once again, this can be nothing less than literal magick in action, or Brick Mojo, as I've been calling this ride...which as my brilliant comrade and fellow Liminal.Earth  Ambassador AP Strange pointed out to me the other day...

MOther JOseph

MOJO.

Cabinet Photo Circa 1900, purchased from Historical Images. Original photo taken by Portland photographer Hofsteater.

I can think of few things that harness more magick than a journey that leads to self-growth through facing uncomfortable misconceptions about yourself and your perceived lack of capabilities and worthiness... ending back up in the middle of messy family history. Almost sounds like surrendering to Providence to this witch.