Hello angels, and welcome to the Trash Report! Summer is heating up, which means that the news is sweatier than a branded mesh t-shirt at a corporate-sponsored Pride parade, and I, for one, am ready to take a big whiff. I’m thrilled to be contributing to our Queer Guide for our gayest month of the year June and Portland’s weird gay extension into July. (To be completely honest, August has more of a gay aura than either, but June is Pride month cuz of Stonewall. But if someone can go back in time, obviously the first thing is to kill Hitler, but then maybe pop by lower Manhattan gay bars and drop hints about how much fun a late-summer riot would be). Anyway, let’s get to the gossip!
World Pride
An extra-big, extra-gay dayslong event held somewhere in the world every two years, World Pride 2025 was held in Washington, DC this year. Organizers picked the location before Trump was re-elected, and some said it should have been switched, so as to not normalize life under his anti-everything regime. Personally? I love that it was there! Over a million people were expected to visit the nation’s capital for the party, with dozens of celebrations of all things gay peppered throughout the city over three weeks, and the thought of Dan Bongino and Marjorie Taylor Greene stewing in a rainbow-drenched traffic jam makes me smile. Every time an anti-gay legislator misses a meeting, a daddy gets their wings.
Shakira unfortunately disappointed fans by cancelling her show at the event,
after her tour equipment got stuck in Boston. Derailing a Shakira production is homophobic, and Boston should apologize to the would-be concert-goers who won’t have a reason to show off their belly-dancing now. Hips don’t lie? More like hips WILL lie…down. Because there’s noth ing else to do that night.
American Pride
Another huge gathering of gays happened on the East Coast, but a little further south: a new theme park Universal Epic Universe just opened in Orlando, much to the delight of all the gay men whose podcasts I
listen to (and presumably others as well). And look, I know many people are reluctant to spend any money in Florida, what with the Ron DeSantis of it all. And extra problematic is that a large section of the new park is about Harry Potter, which means TERF demon queen J.K. Rowling is getting richer—that’s bad. What’s fun, though, is that the park is a trans-inclusive space regardless of her weird obsession with what’s going on under everyone’s skirts (yes, there are gender neutral bathrooms). And hey, Jo, if trans people don’t exist, then who are all those floppy-haired cuties in hot pink sunglasses in the front row of every roller coaster picture, hmmmmmm?
Speaking of roller coasters: In reading about the recent hiatuses of local drag icons Sue from Corporate and Peachy Springs, I learned that Peachy had previous ly wanted to study roller coaster design, and Sue is currently studying roll er coaster design. Now I’m curious how many theme park engineers moonlight as drag queens, and I’m trying to find the overlap of the respective allures. Like, experiences that are loud? Trying to make people’s eyes pop out of their heads? Orlando???
wants one (including me; writing for this paper is a joy, but I get jackshit by way of hard-to-get swag). Stars like Madonna, Charli XCX, Tilda Swinton, and Troye Silvan have been showing off theirs. While the original shirt costs $99 and all proceeds go to benefit Trans Lifeline, there are knockoffs all over the internet for like $12 with proceeds probably going to some meme t-shirt farm in bumfuck-who-knowswhere that is probably also responsible for those shirts that say things like “cool story babe, now go make me a sandwich.”
Local Gossip
(And for the record, Sue from Corporate and Peachy Springs are both incredible drag names. I like to daydream names I would choose for myself. What is the rule? Your cat’s nickname + your favorite sweet treat? I wind up with, like Spronky Sour Patch Kid. Like, what?? A Spronky could never dazzle!)
Dolls Protection
The new progressive status symbol of the year is the shirt that reads “Protect the Dolls”—the dolls being trans women. We first saw this statement drape during Connor Ives’ April fashion show, but it skyrocketed into pop culture ubiquity after beloved trans ally Pedro Pascal wore one on a red carpet. Now everyone who’s anyone has one or
Want to go meta? The local gossip is about GOSSIP, in that apparently there are two bands in town named Gossip. Obviously, both bands are my children, and I love them equally, but like, even if you’re a hardcore band, you’ve probably still heard of Beth Ditto. Her voice is so powerful you might be able to literally open the window and hear her (I wish). See, this is the problem with Google’s continuing slide into uselessness; it’s virtually impossible to figure out if a thing is a thing. I mean, if a person wants to look up how to report trash in Portland, the first hit is actually this column, not a legitimately useful public service. (Sorry!) Semi-related, I fell down a Wikipedia rabbit hole recently, while doing the extremely normal thing of researching John Mayer’s relationship history (heterosexuality is a curse), which reminded me that he and Katy Perry dated, which reminded me that Katy Perry is the stage name of one Katheryn Hudson. Can you imagine how different things would be if she hadn’t changed her name?! The whole vibe would have been different. She never could have had a cat named Kitty Purry, which is so beautifully queer-coded that we can almost forgive her for the song “I Kissed a Girl” and the spaceship ride to nowhere.
Keep Portland Queered
A fun fact about me is that I have a small tattoo of several dots on my wrist because one time, when I was getting tattooed on my right arm, I was telling a dumb story and gesticulating wildly with my other arm, and then the tattooer paused and pulled her gun back—and I flung my hand straight into it. Please imagine that was the flair and passion with which I was reading all of this news to you today, and I can only hope it has left a mark. May your June/July be as beautiful as you are, but not as hot, because that would be too hot.
Queer youth are reaching out to the national suicide and crisis line more than ever. What happens if Trump cuts the line?
BY ABE ASHER
In the three years it has existed, the specialized services line for LGBTQ+ youth on the nationwide 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline has been heralded as a major step forward in aiding young queer people in crisis.
Now, however, the future of the specialized services line is under threat. The Trump administration is proposing defunding the specialized services option for LGBTQ+ youth in the Department of Health and Human Services’ 2026 budget.
It would be a seismic change to the program. Anyone experiencing a mental health crisis can call 988 to be connected to a trained counselor for help, but LGBTQ+ youth currently have an additional option: after calling 988, they can select to be connected to a counselor specially trained to provide them with support.
According to Chris Bouneff, executive director at National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) Oregon, that option makes a significant difference.
“People who identify as LGBTQ+ need to feel comfortable with the people they’re
reaching out to,” Bouneff said. “Otherwise they won’t reach out. So the impacts are huge… if they do away with this option, we will see a severe impact.”
The day after election day, the Trevor Project saw a 700 percent increase in young people reaching out to crisis services.
Like veterans, who also have an option to be connected to specially trained counselors, LGBTQ+ youth experience elevated rates of depression and suicidal thought. A 2024 study found that four in 10 LGBTQ+ youth said they had considered attempting suicide in the past year. One in five did attempt suicide.
The data suggests queer youth are utilizing the 988 lifeline in high numbers. Since it was launched in 2022, the crisis number has fielded some 14.5 million calls—1.3 million of which have been directed to the specialized services line for LGBTQ+ youth. Data show 100,000 people accessed the specialty services line for LGBTQ+ youth in January and February alone.
It is as of yet unclear whether the funding will ultimately be cut. The White House’s budget proposal will go before Congress— where the specialized services option continues to enjoy strong Democratic support.
Still, the possibility of losing the service line for LGBTQ+ youth has alarmed care providers and activists across the country.
“It is vital that these young people have the resources they need in a moment of crisis and these resources be national— that they be available whether you live in a rural area or a city, that it not depend on what state you’re in or who controls your statehouse,” Casey Pick, director of law and policy at the Trevor Project, said.
“That is part of the great benefit of the national 988 system.”
The proposed defunding of the specialized services for LGBTQ+ youth has come as part of a much broader assault on queer Americans, with many of the Trump administration’s attacks targeting transgender people in particular.
Since taking office in January, the Trump administration has launched a broad attack on transgender people—issuing executive orders announcing that the government will only recognize two unchangeable sexes, blocking gender marker changes on passports, and defunding gender-affirming care for trans youth.
In the wake of Trump’s victory in last November’s presidential election—which followed months of intensely transphobic campaign advertisements and language from Trump and his campaign—LGBTQ+ youth have turned to crisis support lines in increased numbers.
“I can tell you that the day after election day last year, the Trevor Project saw a 700 percent increase in young people reach -
ANTHONY KEO
ing out to crisis services,” Pick said. “That is the highest spike in our measurements. We similarly saw a spike after Inauguration Day.”
Bouneff said that NAMI Oregon is similarly seeing higher levels of anxiety and depression driven by the current political environment—with the anxiety produced by the administration’s anti-LGBTQ+ policies compounded by other policies targeting other marginalized groups.
“People feel under threat,” Bouneff said. “It’s not just gender identity, it’s also immigration status, race, and ethnicity—people feel under assault. And it’s constant.”
The potential elimination of specialized services on the 988 line, which comes amid a broader effort to cut budgets and slash the workforce at the Robert F. Kennedy Jr.-led Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), would likely have different impacts in different parts of the country.
In Oregon and Washington, the impact of any cut to the 988 program’s federal funding would likely be lessened by the existence of state-level funding sources.
Last year, the Oregon State Legislature passed a law that partially funds the program’s operation within the state by levying a $0.40 tax on phone lines each month. Washington has a similar funding structure for its 988 line, though both states still use some federal money to finance the program and are vulnerable to cuts Trump’s budget proposal would not actually cut funding for 988, but simply prohibit funding from being used on the specialized services line for LGBTQ+ youth.
If the program is funded to the same level it was this year, Oregon should be able to continue to offer LGBTQ+ youth a similar level of support as it does now. Calls to 988 in Oregon are answered by clinicians with the nonprofits Lines for Life or Northwest Human Services, all of whom are trained to work with young people and queer people. The state is hoping to further raise the visibility of 988 through an advertising campaign this summer.
Oregon also has other outlets that provide support to LGBTQ+ youth in crisis such as YouthLine at 877-968-8491—a peer-to-peer support line for queer youth up to the age of 24. Greg Borders, chief clinical officer at Lines for Life, said YouthLine is aiming to expand to Hawaii later this year and is also looking at opening on the East Coast as well.
But the elimination of the national LGBTQ+ services line, Borders added, could still have a sizable impact on who ends up
reaching out for help to begin with.
“Specialty lines exist in part to make people unfamiliar with the system… feel more comfortable and more confident knowing that they’re going to reach someone who empathizes with their struggles and challenges and is trained to work with them,” Borders said.
People who don’t have any assurance that the clinician they speak to, when they dial 988, is equipped to support them may be less likely to call. Other people, if they think 988 is no longer an option, may not know where to turn.
Part of the impetus behind launching 988 was that the number is intentionally easy to remember—just three digits, available nationwide.
That has made a significant difference. The Trevor Project has offered a specialized services line for LGBTQ+ youth for decades, but Pick said that when the organization became part of the 988 network, the volume of calls it was able to take doubled.
“That ease of access saves lives,” Pick said.
There is little data to track how effective the 988 specialized services line has been or how many lives it has saved, but the extent to which the service is being utilized suggests that people who need it are accessing help.
That, ostensibly, is the goal. But while there is no guarantee that the Trump administration will get its wish around specialized services funding, the fact that the funding is in jeopardy—after the first Trump administration supported the creation of 988— speaks to a chilling shift in thinking about the value of LGBTQ+ lives.
“While we can disagree on a wide range of issues affecting LGBTQ+ people—sports, healthcare, education policy—where there is a striking bipartisan support and unanimity is on suicide prevention, on mental health,” Pick said. “We can disagree on a lot of things, but we have always agreed on the importance of saving young lives.”
Given the administration’s position, Pick said, states like Oregon and Washington must step up to protect their residents’ mental health—both through funding 988 and also through other avenues like funding and training school counselors and community groups. Meanwhile, the battle over specialized services funding is set to continue into the summer with increasingly high stakes.
“The fact is that more people are calling and using the youth specialized services line every month,” Pick said. “What we should be doing here is strengthening this vital resource, not threatening it.” ■
IRL
If you’re new to the city, newly out, or maybe just looking to get out of your bubble and try something new, it can be hard to figure out where to start, especially if you’re trying to get away from the bar scene. Enter your new lifeline: Queer Social Club. Every month, Queer Social Club lists hundreds of IRL events on its website (in addition to sending out a weekly email blast) to get you outside and into the world and maybe just outside of your comfort zone, too. Crafting for mascs? T4T tea? Mall walks? Keen on bird watching? Notice that your crush got into line dancing and wanna try and twinkle those toes to impress them (NO, JUST ME?!)? Trying to avoid dating apps? Always been curious about figure drawing? There is quite literally something for everyone. See you out there!
Resource Shares
Kink is an integral part of LGBTQ+ past and present, and even if it’s not your thing, arguments for its exclusion only concede to the same homophobic and puritanical beliefs that have historically demonized queer existence. The Kinky Library is an 18+, notfor-profit, pop-up lending library that aims to promote and encourage sex education, harm reduction, and outreach to folks in BDSM, leather, and other alternative lifestyle communities. It features an extensive, privately owned collection of over 600 books, zines, and DVDs on all things freak-forward. Kinky Library monthly pop-ups feature boot-blacking services, workshops, and skill-shares—all levels of experience and curiosity are welcome.
Sport
Babe, wake up, we’re getting a WNBA team in 2026! That gives you just enough time to pull up the basketball Wikipedia page and learn how the game works, or at least when and why we shout “DE-FENSE!” If you’re looking for a place to kick off your Sporty Spice era, the Sports Bra is calling your name. Opened in 2022, the ‘Bra touts the title of being the first-ever sports bar entirely dedicated to women’s sports. May as well start big!
fresh USL soccer team, the Bangers FC It’s certainly not my place to make assertions about how the mascots identify, but all I’m saying is that I’m here to accept them with open arms if they ever have anything they’d like to divulge. Hey Dillon T. Pickle; hey Saucy T. Sausage—love is love! Getting strong rules; walking into a gym when it’s not an environment you’re used to decidedly does not. Who are all these men, why are there so many mirrors, and what the hell does that machine do? An answer
It’s never been more prudent to dig into our communities, to build structures of support and care.
If you’re looking for a tighter community vibe and hoping to make some new friends (or maybe even a friendly rivalry), try checking out the viewing parties hosted by Backcourt Collective at Spirit of 77 . They’re holding it down for every single WNBA game this season, giving you an opportunity to watch match-ups across the league and get a little taste of Portland’s eventual opponents. Before you know it, you’ll be spouting off stat lines and trash talking like you’ve been a baller for years. Swish!
I can’t substantiate this, but there’s a certain VERY queer and chaotic energy about both the in-person and online presence of Oregon’s premier collegiate baseball team, the Portland Pickles , and the very
to the hellscape that is a commercial gym might just be a spot like Prism Moves. At Prism Moves, there’s no diet talk, no weight-loss talk, and no dudes making loud grunting sounds or taking up too much space. In addition to regular class and open-gym memberships, the gym offers a free weekly BIPOC-only class, a series called On-Ramp designed specifically for beginners, and a space that is, frankly, gay as hell. If you’ve never listened to an entire Kim Petras album all the way through while throwing a giant medicine ball at the wall, have you ever known true catharsis?
Tattoo Shops
Aside from, duh, making you hotter, getting tattooed can be a way to manifest how
you see yourself inside as an expression on the outside. It can be gender-affirming. It can be life-affirming. And maybe queer tattoo artists understand this pursuit better than most—the process of remaking yourself into…yourself! Here are a few queer-owned tattoo shops to check out: Birdhouse, Constellation, Inside Recess, Keepsake Midnight Shameless Sonny’s House, Third Space, and Wolf & Shadow
Pride™ (Is Over If You Want It)
A quote from hallowed queer ancestor Marsha P. Johnson gets passed around a lot, especially this time of year, because of its unfortunate evergreen nature: “No pride for some of us without liberation for all of us.” I’m wary of using the word unprecedented —its meaning lost to repetition—but what feels crystal clear is that it’s never been more prudent to dig into our communities, to build structures of support and care, and to center and fight for those furthest at the margins. Pride™ has a place: It can serve as an accessible entry point to a version of the world some people don’t even know they need yet, and a time to see many expressions of queerness represented and centered. But I have to admit, I’m failing to feel celebratory about Pride and its accompanying rainbow industrial complex when queer and trans people are in the crosshairs of an administration and rhetoric that seeks to erase us. Maybe there’s space to hold all of these things at once. It’s just that Pride was started with a brick… I think we’d do right to remember that. ■
Proud supporters of Happily Ever After
Step into the exciting world of anime and Japanese pop culture at Kumoricon!
Join us at the end of October for a weekend of cosplay, panels, and immersive experiences— don’t miss your chance to be part of the excitement!
Altonimbus Entertainment is proud to continue an annual tradition of bringing fans together for a jam-packed extravaganza of everything that it means to be a fan of anime and Japanese popular culture. Gaining its namesake (kumori) from the Japanese word “cloudy”, Kumoricon embodies the best parts of fandom and what it is to live in the Pacific Northwest. The Kumoricon family is growing with every passing year, making us the largest anime convention in Oregon.
Pre-register for full weekend membership at Kumoricon.org
Be Gay, Do Architecture Iain Mackenzie conceptualizes the brutalist pride float of your wildest dreams.
BY HR SMITH
Any local journalist who writes about urban development has likely felt the sting—when urbanist inthe-know Iain Mackenzie casually tweets out a scoop you were working on, and the internet (at least Portland’s little corner of it) goes bozangas.
First on the website Next Portland, then on Twitter, now on BlueSky, Mackenzie is your number one follow for breezy updates on an ever-changing saga of zoning plans, zoning plans, cute out-on-the-town queer content, insider shade, and zoning plans.
For over a decade, Mackenzie has given Portland’s planning an enthusiastic, knowledgeable, queer perspective. It’s not his job; he’s a senior associate at TVA Architects. We were curious about the reason for all this useful, highly-readable labor.
MacKenzie told us of his tender years as a remodeler, his fondness for brutalism, and which part of the city he would nominate for Portland’s new gayborhood.
MERCURY: So you are from Scotland. What did Portland do to lure you over here?
MACKENZIE: I was drawn to a lot of things about Portland. It’s not a stereotypical American city where it’s endless sprawl into suburbia. You have lots of walkable city, walkable neighborhoods, a rather nice rail system and transit.
I moved here in 2009. At first, I couldn’t find any jobs in architecture at all because of the Great Recession. Then I started doing a lot of high-end residential remodels in the West Hills.
What did somebody who wanted a high end residential rebuttal in the West Hills want back then?
Giant kitchens.
Any particular type of giant kitchen?
Some were very traditional, some were very contemporary, but they were all very big and very expensive—custom cabinetry, best materials. I was demolishing stuff that was so much nicer than anything I could ever imagine having myself. There’s a lot of value in learning how to do something really well. But I’m more interested in cities and urban development.
I’ve been in my current job for about 10 years, and most of what I do is multi-family apartment buildings. The things that I find interesting are things that contribute to the development of a city.
Oh, and I try and be clear—I am not licensed as an architect in Oregon. Although I work in an architectural practice, I don’t stamp drawings.
That’s true of a lot of people who design buildings. What was your process of starting Next Portland?
I used to post a lot on internet message boards. I started Next Portland just to make it easier for people to find information. I haven’t been very active in updating that site recently. If I come across things I find interesting, I post those to—I used to be more active on Twitter. Now Bluesky. I just post things that I find interesting. I’m not trying to get engagement.
You don’t have dreams of becoming a media empire?
No. Quite the opposite. I want to restart Next Portland, but put it under a nonprofit, and make it more of a collaborative effort. I was spending a lot of time just trying to do site maintenance.
Oh, that’ll kill you And also, the pandemic. And then I started seeing somebody—being in a new relationship takes up a lot of time. And then being engaged. And then getting married.
You often break stories before anyone else. What is the secret to your success?
Mostly I just spend a couple minutes checking Portland Maps every day. Every time somebody goes in for a building permit or a land use review to get something approved, that gets logged. I just scan those and then if there’s something interesting, I’ll post about it.
When did you start to realize that more people were reading what you posted? Was it a slow build?
When I started it, it was early 2015. Construction activity was really high in Portland at the time, and it just kind of took off. All of a sudden I realized “Oh, a lot of people are reading this.”
Oh right. Interest rates were nothing, so everything was a construction site. There were 5,000-7,000 units of housing being built a year in Portland. When interest rates started rising at the end of 2022, nothing could get financing, and so everything has kind of stalled for the last two years.
Do you feel like queer culture in Portland gentrified during this strange real estate bubble that we all lived through?
Scandals was kind of the last remnant of what used to be Portland’s little gay district. One thing that is a bit of a shame is that we have all these venues and spaces, but they’re kind of scattered around the city. It would be
nice just to have a street or something that is like the Castro or Davie Village in Vancouver. Embers was the longest continuously operating gay bar in Portland. When it closed, I started doing some research— coming across an advertisement for in the 1960s, from before it was a queer space at all, and then in the 1970s stories about people being beat up, and then stories related to the AIDS crisis—just a lot of really dark times. It was sad when it closed, even though it was in need of some investment. I’m glad that now there’s a sign in Badlands about its history.
Okay: extremely important question. You are given complete largesse to design an urban planning / architecture Pride float. What does it look like?
I love brutalist architecture. And there’s this brutalist architect called Paul Rudolph, who himself was gay.
If I was going to design a float it would be a giant, giant scale model of one of his buildings
What’s the appeal of brutalism?
I love the textures of raw concrete. The patterns you can make with raw concrete are just incredibly beautiful. The Keller Fountain is probably some of the best concrete work you can go and see in Portland.
Is there a part of Portland that you would nominate for a queer district?
I think it should be Northwest Broadway, because you’ve almost got something now. You’ve got what was Embers and is now Badlands. You’ve got Stag. There’s Taboo Video There’s Silverado just around the corner. And it’s got the name “Broadway.”
Absolutely. Broadway is definitely a non-heterosexual name. ■
Iain Mackenzie in front of Keller Fountain.
CHAR HARRIS
Outlaws in Utopia
Portland artist Pace Taylor paints their way toward paradise.
BY MARTHA DAGHLIAN
Artist Pace Taylor’s studio is surrounded by artifacts of Portland’s early history. It’s on the second floor of an early 20th-century brick warehouse, sandwiched between the railroad tracks and the Willamette, in a sleepy industrial neighborhood of North Portland. Chalky sticks of pastel are loosely arranged according to color on a central table, and multihued dust lightly coats every surface, illuminated by the golden afternoon sun.
For the past few months, this space has been an incubator for Taylor’s forthcoming solo exhibition at Portland gallery Nationale, Last Call at the Rainbow Cafe, which opens June 21. The name of the show evokes relics of the American empire, now haunted by the decline of manufacturing, looming tariffs, and cartoonish nationalism. But instead of feeling entombed by history, Taylor’s new work seems to burst forth from the rubble with a new energy. Last Call reassembles fragments of the past into a vision of utopia-in-flux, vibrating with high-key color and conceptual weight.
In recent years, Taylor’s figurative work in soft pastel and graphite has been featured in exhibitions at galleries in Portland, Los Angeles, and Paris, gaining a devoted following for their saturated hues and emotional charge. Elegant, sculptural bodies, sidelong glances, and domestic interiors mingle in shades of orange and magenta. Subjects are defined with sinuous contour lines in fine pencil, which also sets off select details: pensive eyes, pursed lips. In past shows, suggestions of specific settings like nightclubs or bedrooms brought into focus a recurring theme that Taylor explains as “the collision between intimacy and isolation, and how you can have both of those things in the same moment.”
saturated, opaque pigment contrasting with fragility and ambiguity, as the chalky medium blurs and shifts on the paper—were a natural fit for Taylor’s intuitive working style. “It’s not a super conscious decision-making process,” they explained. “I try to just let things be… there’s something beautiful in the happenstance, the mistakes, however you want to see it.” Their occasional forays into watercolor show echoes of this approach in the fluidity and unpredictability of layers of transparent paint.
Last Call‘s compositions could be viewed as a return to Taylor’s beginnings in illustration, which they studied as an undergrad at the University of Oregon. “This show in particular probably has the strongest narrative [of all my solo exhibitions],” they said, “even though it’s not linear.” In place of their usual party scenes and domestic tableaux, Taylor has built a kaleidoscopic landscape that incorporates shreds of Americana, recontextualized within a decidedly queer aesthetic.
Part of this new direction came about during a residency Taylor completed at the renowned Crow’s Shadow Printmaking Studio on the Umatilla Reservation near Pendleton, Oregon. “Pendleton is a really interesting place,” they noted. “There’s a story between the Native community and the people in the town who see themselves as part of the legacy of the American West.”
In place of their usual party scenes and domestic tableaux, Pace Taylor has built a kaleidoscopic landscape that incorporates shreds of Americana, recontextualized within a decidedly queer aesthetic.
Taylor’s recognizable style (and their signature medium) grew out of portrait commissions, a way they made extra cash in their early career. “I wanted a cheap way to add color,” they said. A set of entry-level soft pastels serendipitously appeared around the same time they scored a larger studio space (and thus the freedom to make a bit more of a mess), and Taylor has stuck with them ever since.
The definitive qualities of pastel—pure,
At the famous Pendleton Roundup, “it was interesting to see people’s commitment to the iconography of the American West… [I noticed] signifiers around what people wear, what people consume.” The inclusion of logos—like Stetson, American Spirit, PBR—in Taylor’s new paintings speaks to the power of these cultural markers in crafting personal identity and a collective origin story. Cowboy-hatted figures drink whiskey around a saloon table, a couple embraces in their car at a Love’s truck stop, and a realistic rabbit meets its fate under the tires of a cartoon sedan, complete with Looney Tunes-style dust cloud.
Taylor’s interest in genre marks an expansion on previous shows’ focus on queer identity and relationships as a primary subject—zooming out to ask what it means to look back at the world through a queer lens. They chalked up this evolution to the
self-assurance gained through experience. “Now that I’m more confident in my work it’s easier to let my sensibilities guide my work rather than my identity,” they said. “[Identity] is the analytic for this story,” rather than the subject.
When their partner, a curator and scholar of art theory, introduced them to José Estaben Muñoz’s 2009 book Cruising Utopia , Taylor quickly linked it to their newfound interest in the culture of the American West: “[Estaben is] talking about how to get to a queer utopian future… it’s something that doesn’t exist now but we always have to be working towards.” Taylor sees the myth of the American West as being linked to “this idea of utopia… what do we want to build?”
“There’s been this rise of interest in the Western [genre] over the past couple of years,” they said. “People can tell—whether or not they want to admit it—that (we are currently in) a time of waning empire,” and the mythology of the cowboy and his open range seem ripe for reinterpretation within this context.
The Western genre, with its complicated heroes, charismatic bad actors, and wild frontiers, appeals as a way to look forward when the world is profoundly destabilized and trust in our social structures has been eroded. “Who is called an outlaw right now?” Taylor mused. “Since the conception of the US, [our leaders] have been outlaws, creating corrupt laws and not even abiding by their own word.” In times like these, art
can be a way to imagine a better future, or at least a path in that direction. “It’s this collective imagination around these things that we have to have.”
The world of Taylor’s new show was also informed by their love of genre films and books, including sci fi, horror, magical realism, and the classic Western. “I watch a lot of movies; so when I’m putting the work together, I’m thinking about that visual storytelling, and the feeling you can get from putting together all these different images.”
The road movie genre, which for Taylor includes classics like Thelma & Louise and Paris, Texas, was a particular inspiration. “In all of these movies, you are leaving behind something and moving towards something else,” they explained, “you can be a different person with [new] people,” when you exit your comfort zone.
Now, Taylor will have the chance to live out their own road movie moment as they prepare to pack up and move cross-country to New York, with their partner, later this year. Relieved to have already found a gay soccer club to replace their Portland crew, they noted equal excitement to encounter new scenes as they leave the “Portland bubble.” Here’s hoping that hitting the road will lead Taylor to find their own utopia, or in their words, to “get to a place that feels true.” ■
Last Call at the Rainbow Cafe is on view at Nationale, 15 SE 22nd, through August 10, nationale.org
Detail of a whiskey in a glass from one of Pace Taylor pastels; their work is also on this guide’s cover.
MARTHA DAGHLIAN
Catwalk with Confidence— and Context
Latroy Robinson leads a weekly Vogue Femme class rooted in ballroom’s queer and trans legacy.
BY SUZETTE SMITH
Stretch those calves, Latroy Robinson tells us. By day, Robinson is a senior research assistant at OHSU. By night, he is TwoMoods—a performer in the local and national voguing scene. “I get very left brain, right brain satisfaction from it,” says Robinson.
Sometimes Robinson goes right from work to the club. If the club stays open super late, sometimes he goes right from the club to work. Monday nights he teaches this class, Vogue Femme at Vitalidad Movement Arts Center (VMAC). “It really becomes about time management,” he says.
The students are a mix of all levels: performers actively competing in local balls, experienced dancers interested in a new style, and those who’ve never taken a dance class in their lives. Robinson himself was once a student in the class. He started coming, after he moved to Portland to study biochemistry and molecular biology at Lewis and Clark, and after he’d been to a few balls. Then the Vogue Femme class was taught by the person who created it: Legendary Father Papi Ada—who now goes by Daniel Giron, as the House of Ada disbanded last fall.
Robinson began assisting Giron, teaching as a substitute and eventually taking it over. He’s kept the class largely as Giron made it: Each month, Robinson cycles through vogueing’s core elements: catwalk, handwork, duckwalk, floor, and spins and dips. Class begins with Robinson relating a little history of the movements and the ballroom scene—lessons which often continue throughout the 60-minute session.
Today’s core element is catwalk. Robinson has us walk on our toes—it’s a style inspired by walking in heels, and even performers who aren’t wearing heels still reference that in their moves.
Robinson illustrates how to adopt the S-curve posture that is the next aspect of catwalk.
Around the room, attendees try to copy him, with varying degrees of success: knees bent, shoulders low, chest up, ass out. Next: Take dainty steps forward. Next: Don’t forget to accentuate the side-to-side movements of the hips.
Now: Do the same thing, to music. You’ll find variation to vogue music, but there’s a common “crash” or loud sound on the fourth beat. For now, Robinson just wants us to catwalk with the beat.
The next week, when Robinson teaches us the element of handwork, the crash will
become more important. That is because, when the crash comes, we will need to be “extra cunty.”
“This shit is hard to do!” Robinson adds, making the understatement of the century. “The gatekeeping of the style is built into the style.”
Teaching the history of ballroom is critical, Robinson adds, later. It’s better-known than it used to be—there’s the reality show Legendary and the drama series Pose in addition to the classic documentary Paris is Burning. But ballroom emerged out of trans and queer underground communities of color, and says Robinson, “It’s important to know why you do what you do.”
For example: the S-curve that we’re all learning. “The elements were pioneered by trans women who had big titties and big asses,” he says. After class, he explains further: “Walking around in heels, having tits and ass—it’s not an easy load to carry—and you’re also dancing and doing all of these things. It just gives you a small taste of what life was like for them and how hard they work. We’re moving like this because this is a style made by them, for them.”
“Once you start voguing, once you know the elements, it becomes like: What are you saying, and how are you saying it?” Robinson continues. “And if you don’t have the history, you don’t know how to use the words. You need to know who made them and why they were made.”
“The gatekeeping of the style is built into the style.”
“The really cool thing about this class is that it feels a little bit more accessible to the general public,” Robinson adds. “It’s a great way for people interested in ballroom to find out more. Maybe a ball is intimidating.” Robinson, personally, was not intimidated at his first Portland ball. It was a Zodiac Kiki Ball at Portland Art Museum. He remembers getting a really good seat, and just watching it unfold. “What we have primarily in Portland is the kiki scene, which is really about community, family,” says Robinson. “A lot of times it gets people ready for mainstream.”
At his second ball, Passa Flora, father of the House of Flora, was emceeing. At
one point, they put out a general request to the crowd: someone get Passa a drink. Robinson got up and got them one.
It was Robinson’s first interaction with the father of the house he would be a part of for over four years, and act as prince in for his last two. Currently, he’s “007”—the term for a free agent.
In 2022, Robinson joined the House of Ninja, after impressing the house’s father while battling him in a hand performance competition at a ball in Denver. Joining a major house didn’t affect his kiki house status, Robinson says. His house status in Portland’s kiki scene doesn’t affect his mainstream status and vice versa.
As an instructor, Robin son is kind, making sugges tions to the general group instead of singling anyone out. He seems to look for when someone finally pro gresses with a move and is quick to reinforce it with praise.
In the third class we learn duckwalk and floor. I still can’t duck walk to my satisfaction, but I love to try. Anoth er student who says he’s never taken a dance class before is sprawling happily and confidently, as we learn about floorwork. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to start going to balls, but he thinks it’s already helping his regular moves on the dancefloor in clubs.
We have all learned one lesson the hard way: Listen when Robinson says to stretch, because catwalk will absolutely shred your calves.
Vogue Femme is held on Mondays at Vitalidad Movement Arts Cen ter, 2648 E Burnside, 6:30 pm, $20, vmacpdx.com
Be Gay, Do the Time Warp
Why Rocky Horror Picture Show has been playing at Clinton Street Theater for 47 years.
BY L PARKER
The longest-running weekly showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show in the world still happens every Saturday night at Clinton Street Theater. 50 years after the campy horror musical’s release—and 47 years after the theater began showing it— Rocky Horror remains more than just a cult classic. It’s a rite of passage, a sanctuary, and a raucous communal release.
50 years on from Rocky Horror’s cinematic debut, Clinton Street isn’t marking the milestone with nostalgia, but with momentum: evolving, adapting, and deepening its care for the queer community it serves.
A Legacy of Loyalty
When Aaron Colter and five others bought the theater in 2022 , the continuation of Rocky Horror was a condition of the sale. The previous owners viewed the weekly screenings as central to Clinton Street’s identity and felt ending them would erase part of Portland’s cultural history.
“It feels like a responsibility, oftentimes, to keep that area what it has been for decades,” Colter said. In a city where queer spaces often vanish or transform, Clinton Street is committed to persisting.
While there’s a screening every Saturday, the hosts change by week. Most common, the Clinton Street Cabaret provides a full shadowcast on the first and third weekend, Sinophelia on the second and Thom Hilton on the fourth offer “scaled back” versions, still with props and callbacks.
Hilton saw Rocky Horror for the first time at age 13 with his grandparents. “They were the first people I came out to,” he said. Many years later, after showing Hilton’s short films at Clinton Street, Colter invited him to bring something new to the space.
The “with Thom Hilton” screenings are a one-man inclusive movie party, he says. He originally created the performance in his former home of Brooklyn, New York during the pandemic, with audience members sitting on his building’s rooftop.
Hilton infuses his Rocky Horror live show with affirming energy, raunchy comedy, and a dash of heart. “The hardest thing anyone could ever say truthfully is ‘I completely and totally accept myself,’” Hilton recalls his grandmother telling him. That message of self-acceptance is central to his show’s tone, and part of why Clinton Street’s screenings remain vital. For queer and questioning youth seeking safe, expressive spaces in a city that is lacking in
all-ages options after 10 pm, Rocky Horror weekly showings are a bastion.
Put into words by a recent attendee, Serena, in the lobby after a show: “You have two chances in your life to see Rocky Horror for the first time. One is in your friend’s basement at 16 years old, and the other is at the Clinton.”
The Wild Ritual
Whether you come to the high-theatrics cabaret, the more intimate nights, or Hilton’s solo version—he describes it as “Rocky Horror for virgins”—the experience is both chaotic and caring. Colter recalled welcoming a bachelor party to a show once: “This is really for gay high school theater nerds. Everyone is welcome, but know what you’re getting into.”
Attendees often dress up like their favorite characters from the film or even just versions of themselves that they can’t be every day. Vulgar callback lines fly from both cast and audience. Props also soar through the air, as cult tradition calls for throwing toast, toilet paper, confetti and other items at key moments. Other callbacks incite noisemakers, or inter-audience proposals with candy rings. “Twenty minutes after meeting a room full of
strangers [and telling them] you’re allowed to act like this,” Hilton described, “they’re all screaming and being despicable, trashy, and gross.”
Why It Endures
Though Clinton Street doesn’t have plans to go all out on Rocky Horror ’s 50th anniversary—they’ll probably have a party in September to celebrate the US release— the milestone is present in spirit and enthusiasm each Saturday. Rather than burn out, the team finds renewal in the ritual. “You see one person having that experience for the first time… It’s almost like a legacy,” Colter observed. Summer shows often sell out, especially during Pride, and the joy remains palpable.
What keeps Rocky Horror alive at Clinton Street isn’t just the film itself; it’s what happens around it: connection, catharsis, and community. “Come and see that you’re not alone,” Colter says to those considering showing up for the first or 50th viewing. Dress up, grab a prop bag, and become part of the legacy. ■
The Rocky Horror Picture Show plays at Clinton Street Theater, 2522 SE Clinton, every Saturday night, cstpdx.com , all ages
Rocky Horror Picture Show with Thom Hilton attendees onstage with Thom Hilton.
L PARKER
Portland’s New Queen of Haute Mexican Cuisine
Dani Morales is creating some of the most exciting food in the city.
BY ANDREA DAMEWOOD
Dani Morales may not yet be a household name, but she’s already recognized at the place that matters the most to her—the Portland Farmers Market.
Since becoming the executive chef of downtown’s De Noche in 2023, she’s been at the famed Portland State University farmers market bright and early every Saturday. It’s a habit she learned from Comedor Lilia chef Juan Gomez. The pair, both part of the República & Co. restaurant group, track what’s in season and what’s about to be, and check in with favorite vendors.
“Rain, shine, snow, I was there,” Morales says. “I started to build a reputation with farmers: being there early before the market bell went off and building relationships, learning their names. They know your name; you should learn theirs.”
Bringing hyper-local ingredients to Mexican dishes rich with cultural heritage has Morales putting out some of the most exciting food in the city. And she’s about to get a bigger stage: She’s been promoted to executive chef at República, the fine-dining flagship of the República & Co mini-empire.
Comedor Lilia will move into the former De Noche space, while De Noche essentially melds with República. Under Morales, the restaurant will add an a la carte menu to its longtime tasting menu format, which will also go from 10 courses to seven.
Last month, regulars packed the Park Blocks location of De Noche after the transition was announced. Weekly regulars were there for their fix of Morales’ signature dishes, in particular the plato de birria, a slowly braised beef short rib portion served with bright pickled onions, microgreens, and plenty of savory broth. You soak it all up with the multicolored maiz tortillas that are made in house, served warm and tender.
Morales took fresh snap peas and turned them into a play on esquites, the bright pods served over a black garlic sauce, with chiles and cheese.
A raw scallop aguachile’s sauce was a shocking magenta thanks to the addition of strawberries, whose sweetness paired with the shellfish—offset by a chile kick.
De Noche’s greatest hits will still be part of
República, Morales promises.
“Being able to do food in both ways will make me happy as well,” she says. “We’ll do more refined things for the tasting menu, more street food for the a la carte. We’ll still do everything with the seasons. I’ll still be going to the farmers market to get everything for the restaurant.”
Morales, 35, grew up as a first-generation daughter of Mexican immigrants: Her father is from Guadalajara, and her mother is from Sinaola. The two met harvesting crops in Baja. Morales grew up near Santa Barbara and got into cooking as an elementary school kid.
At the Boys & Girls Club, “a woman did a cooking class once a week,” Dani recalls. “She started showing us random baking skills.” This early exposure, combined with the magnetic pull of her older cousin—a working chef and musician—set her on her culinary course. While other kids watched cartoons, Dani devoured episodes of Rachael Ray and Emeril Lagasse. “That’s how I de-
cided that’s what I wanted to be,” she says. “All the food—it brought people together and always in a good way.”
She climbed through kitchens in Southern California and Las Vegas, including at Santa Barbara’s hailed Sama Sama Indonesian restaurant, making it to sous chef. Morales and her partner at the time decided that the rent in their hometown was too damn high, and landed on Portland as a more affordable space.
After stints at the former Yonder and Il Solito, Morales joined the República team and worked her way up to her first executive chef role at De Noche. “I technically had never cooked Mexican food before working at Lilia,” Morales says. She added that she always wanted to, and saw República as the “only place doing food that looked like where I came from and what I used to eat, but in a more elevated restaurant version.”
In the kitchen, Morales expedites dishes by hand, following a seat map that she marks with pen as she sends a mole amarillo with halibut to the corner of the chef’s counter, and a vegetarian sope, whose corn shell is as crisp and flaky as pastry crust, to a window table. A self-confessed sneakerhead, she wears one of her 80-90 pairs of Nikes and Adidas in the kitchen, non-slip
soles be damned.
Calling out dishes, Morales is quick with a “please” and “thank you” to staff—her voice is loud, but she’s not yelling. Morales, who is a lesbian, says she strives to make sure her kitchen isn’t like some of those she came up in.
“Being a queer person in a kitchen is difficult,” she says. “I try to make my boundaries very well known. I’m not a butt taps kind of girl, I’m not one of the boys. I give that vibe: Don’t fuck with me. I have a quick mouth, and whatever you say is not going to be as good as what I can give back to you.”
Though she feels like her identity has caused her to be passed up for promotions in the past, Morales says her queerness is celebrated here. That’s reflected in the people who come to eat at De Noche, and it’s largely been through community wordof-mouth, she says.
“The way I celebrate [being gay] is for my space to be a queer-friendly,” she says. “Over time, I became the queer date night spot. There was one night where I said, ‘If you look at this room right now, there’s at least five queer couples in here having dinner right now.’ You celebrate it, knowing you’re going to walk into that room and knowing you’re not feeling uncomfortable.”
Left to right: Chef Dani Morales; her signature plato de birria
PHOTOS COURTESY OF DE NOCHE
COURTESY OF DENOCHE
Be Gay, Eat Tacos
At Taqueria Los Puñales, cute queer vibes are served alongside Portland’s most prolific taco menu.
BY BLAIR STENVICK
For the co-owners of Taqueria Los Puñales, there’s a lot in the name. For starters: It’s not a restaurant, says owner David Madrigal. It’s a taqueria.
“When you go to Mexico, to a taqueria off the street, they have tacos only,” says Madrigal, who grew up working at his family’s place, Taqueria Los Rojos, in Guadalajara. “They don’t offer you chilaquiles, or enchiladas, or tortas, or burritos. It’s a specialty: tacos.”
That was the focus when Madrigal and his partner Brian Aster opened Los Puñales in June of 2020: Serving up a prolific 25taco lineup of savory braised meats and expertly seasoned veggies, all on fresh-toorder tortillas.
“It was like, no, we’re not doing another taqueria that does everything,” says Aster. “If you do everything, you stand for nothing.”
“Nobody else [in Portland] has 25 tacos on their menu,” adds Madrigal.
And then there’s the other part of the name: Puñales, an anti-gay slur that doesn’t translate directly to English, but is similar to faggot in meaning and context. Madrigal remembers his family back in Mexico questioning whether that name was wise before opening.
“Now we’ve been here for five years,” he says, “everything is great, we still have a great clientele.… It’s about not losing your essence as a person, or as a business.”
If you don’t speak Spanish, you’ll still know Los Puñales is a queer spot as soon as you walk in: Gay art and cheeky memorabilia fills the walls (including portraits of Mariah Carey, the Virgin of Guadalupe, and Tonya Harding), and house music pumps through the speakers. It isn’t unheard of for one of the drag queens on staff to work a weekend drag brunch, come work their 2-9 pm shift at Los Punales in full drag, then head out to another drag gig at a bar.
“If a hardworking drag queen who speaks Spanish needs a job, we will figure it out!” says Aster.
But if you’re initially drawn in by those fun queer vibes, the food is what will make you a regular. Each guisado-style braised meat, from carnitas to lengua, tastes like it’s been roasting since 7 am—because it has. The lone seafood option, a perfectly spiced shrimp taco, nails both texture and taste, and the vegetarian and vegan tacos range from popular soy curl fare to options like the calabazitas,
a celebration of zucchini that somehow avoids soggy territory. Ladle any of those into a freshly-made tortilla, and you’ve got a handheld treasure to enjoy.
“We put a lot of love and effort into what we do,” says Madrigal. “Everything we do is extra. Extra everything.”
It took a lot of that love and effort to open a taqueria in June 2020, just months into the COVID-19 pandemic. Madrigal and Aster were old friends, hav -
ing met over 20 years ago at Porky’s, a bar located where the Eagle now stands, at a queer night called Booty. But working together brought up tensions.
“There were times I thought we were going to close the business and split up,” says Aster. “And when you’re opening in a pandemic, that adds more heat under the pot.”
But despite the odds, the taqueria flourished—and so did a romantic love between Madrigal and Aster. They weren’t dating when they opened Los Puñales, but are now an item. Madrigal calls Aster “a good partner in life and in business.”
Two years into running Los Punales, the pair did make a couple small concessions to the “tacos only” rule. The taqueria now hosts a weekend brunch, offering up both red and green chilaquiles and pozole. If you’re getting pozole, be sure to make it a “tamazole” by adding a whole tamale in the soup.
“I was high,” Madrigal says to start his tamazole creation story.
“I went to the Mexican store to buy tamales, so I had a bunch of tamales.” He came into the taqueria and added a red pork tamale to a bowl of red pork pozole. When non-stoned employees agreed it was delicious, he said: “I was
like, Wow!, and we put it on the menu.” A simple search told Madrigal he wasn’t the first person in the world to think of this creation, but he was the first to put it on a menu in Portland.
The verde chicken tamazole comes with a chicken tamale that’s got a two-to-one meat and masa ratio. The corn masa sings with the corn hominy, and the tamale’s chicken joins the big chunks of stewed chicken, creating a bowl of layered comfort food that’s cut perfectly by the acidic green base.
Taqueria Los Puñales celebrated its fiveyear anniversary on June 22, and the owners anticipate being busy throughout Pride season, as they are every summer. The pair are aware of the political implications of being a proudly queer and Mexican establishment of 2025, and they made it a point to give out “Know Your Rights” guides to their entire staff. But they say they choose to make the taqueria a place for joy, and try not to let the current political realities take up more space than they need to.
“Be informed, know your rights, be prepared—but be joyful,” Aster says. “You gotta have some fun when the tyrants are doing their thing. Joy is the best revenge.” And at Taqueria Los Puñales, joy is served on a house-made tortilla. ■
Taqueria Los Puñales, 3312 SE Belmont, lospunales.com
BLAIR STENVICK.
BLAIR STENVICK.
The gorgeous tacos in question.
Partners David Madrigaal (left) and Brian Aster (right) stand in front of a portrait of Ricky Martin.
JULY 31 - AUGUST 3, 2025 · PENDARVIS FARM · HAPPY VALLEY, OR
GREENSKY BLUEGRASS
MICHAEL HURLEY TRIBUTE
OLIVE KLUG
ANNA BUTTERSS
LILY SEABIRD
CHOSES SAUVAGES
LONESOME SHACK
EMILY NENNI DOUGIE POOLE
REYNA TROPICAL THEE MARLOES
ROSALI
OCIE ELLIOTT
PORTUGAL.
MAN
FORTY FEET TALL EAST NASH GRASS
J.R.C.G.
JIMETTA ROSE & THE VOICES OF CREATION
DUMMY
THE CACTUS BLOSSOMS
SURPRISE CHEF
JAKE BLOUNT
KAHIL EL’ZABAR’S ETHNIC HERITAGE ENSEMBLE
THEE HEART TONES SML
CELEBRATING 25 YEARS TAJ MAHAL
JAKE VAADELAND & THE STURGEON RIVER BOYS
ANGELA AUTUMN
JOSH
JOHNSON
HANNAH COHEN
BEING DEAD
REVIVAL SEASON
WILD PINK FRENTE CUMBIERO
JOURDAN THIBODEAUX ET LES RÔDAILLEURS
GLITTERFOX
CHRIS ACKER
BLU & EXILE
ROSE GERBER
BEN SERETANROSE CITY BAND
FRUIT BATS
CORY HANSON
HALEY HEYNDERICKX THE RUMBLE WADE SAPP
SUGARLEGG
COLBY T. HELMS & THE VIRGINIA CREEPERS
HUMBIRD
DAVID NANCE & MOWED SOUND
JENNY DON’T AND THE SPURS
LANEY JONES & THE SPIRITS
DERYA YILDIRIM & GRUP ŞIMŞEK
JONNY’S DAY OUT
IMPROVEMENT MOVEMENT
Queer Menu
Sixteen
queer-owned bars, restaurants, and cafes in Portland that we love.
BY JULIANNE BELL AND JANEY WONG
Happy Pride Month(s)! It’s a great time to think about how you can put some of your hard-earned dollars toward supporting local queer-owned businesses, both while you’re out and about this June, feeling snacky after the parade in July, and all year long. From Meals 4 Heels to Taqueria Los Puñales, we’ve rounded up some of our favorite queer-owned bars, restaurants, and cafes in Portland.
Back2Earth
This lively gay bar, owned by Eagle Portland proprietor Dan Henderson, features bar grub like burgers, barbecue fried chicken sandwiches, and loaded fries, not to mention drinks like espresso martinis and Tajín-rimmed watermelon mojitos. (3536 NE Martin Luther King, back2earthpdx.com)
Chelo
Chef Luna Contreras’s fonda moved into its permanent home this January, taking over the space of collaborative restaurant space Dame. Here, visitors dine on “vegetable-driven multifaceted Mexican fare” inspired by street food, with locally sourced dishes like shrimp-and-huitlacoche quesadillas, empanadas stuffed with local mushrooms, and vegetable-laden tlayudas. (2930 NE Killingsworth, chelopdx.com)
Clarklewis
Fine dining restaurateur Bruce Carey took over this pioneering farm-to-table restaurant in 2007. You’ll find dishes like woodfired pizza and house-made pasta on the menu, made with a selection of local produce that changes with the seasons. The Central Eastside restaurant’s happy hour runs daily. (1001 SE Water, clarklewispdx.com)
Coffee Beer
Run by artist Phillip Stewart, this vegan coffee shop pours Portland’s two favorite beverages. Coffee Beer invites visitors to “come for one, stay for the other”—hungry folks can grab handhelds like vegan Phatt Dawgs or Higher Taste burritos. If you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of the cafe’s senior pug mascot, A$AP Douglas. (4142 SE 42nd, coffeebeer.me)
Friendship Kitchen and Stem Wine Bar
Wife-and-wife team Trang Nguyen Tan and Wei-En Tan run the warm, welcoming Vietnamese restaurant Friendship Kitchen and its Northwest sister location Friendship Kitchen: Saigon 2 Singapore. The spots serve
dishes like Impossible egg rolls, shaken beef or tofu, pho, and lemongrass chicken skewers, in addition to playful cocktails. The duo also owns Stem Wine Bar, which offers tastings, wine flights, and weekend tarot readings. (Friendship Kitchen, 2333 NE Glisan, 2764 NW Thurman, saigonsingapore. com; Stem Wine Bar, 3920 N Mississippi, stemwinebarpdx.com)
Kann
Top Chef star Gregory Gourdet’s celebrated wood-fired Haitian restaurant Kann, which was named Best New Restaurant at the 2023 James Beard Awards, serves delightful dishes like akra (crispy taro root fritters), coffee-rubbed steaks, and twice-cooked griyo (Haitian fried pork). Diners who aren’t able to snag a coveted reservation should check out the restaurant’s downstairs pan-Caribbean sibling bar Sousòl (Haitian Creole for “basement”). Gourdet has been vocal about his sobriety, and both the bar and restaurant offer plentiful zero-proof options in addition to cocktails, beer, and Oregon wines. (548 SE Ash, kannrestaurant.com)
Living Room Wines
Kick back with a glass of wine in hand at this bar where partners Fabrizio Barbagelata and Justin Sedor have curated an inviting vibe that’ll make you want to settle in and enjoy small plates like chilled asparagus bisque, French onion dip, and a cheese plate with selections from Cowbell. Check the bar’s website for its calendar of community events including free wine tastings on Wednesdays, drag bingo, live music, and queer socials. (4818 N Lombard, livingroomwinespdx.com)
Meals 4 Heels
Local chef Nikeisah Newton started a food delivery service for sex workers called Meals 4 Heels in 2019, inspired by her former dancer girlfriend’s need for nourishing food after her late-night shifts. Then, while waiting for strip clubs to reopen in 2021, she launched her own brick-and-mortar inside The Redd’s Powerhouse Cafe space. The vegetarian bowl-style dishes have names inspired by her customer base, like “I Like to Cha Cha” (seasoned rice, citrus slaw, black olives, mild salsa, cheddar, and cotija, topped with avocado, crushed Juanita’s tortilla chips, salsa lizano, pickled red onions, and cilantro) and the “Verbal Tipper” (lemon pepper couscous, Italian pickled vegetables, marinated artichokes, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, crumbled cotija cheese, crispy quinoa, and a balsamic drizzle). (831 SE Salmon, Suite 50, meals4heels.com)
Speed-O Cappuccino
Chelo
Kann
SUZETTE SMITH
COURTESY OF CHELO
COURTESY OF KANN
7-18 FRI
7-19 SAT 7-20 SUN
Mis Tacones
After moving to Portland, Los Angeles transplants Carlos Reynoso and Polo Abram Bañuelos began making vegan tacos inspired by California street food. Their pop-up-turned-restaurant Mis Tacones serves up plant-based tacos, tortas, nachos, and asada seitan Cali burritos with hand-pressed tortillas and plenty of panache. Inspired by the Oakland restaurant Gay4U Vegan Eats, Reynoso and Bañuelos offer free food to trans people of color upon request. ( 1670 NE Killingsworth, mistaconespdx.com )
Mosaic Taphouse
The craft beer scene can often feel like an exclusive club for straight white guys, but married couple Jarek and Laurence Oliver set out to change that with their LGBTQ-friendly taproom Mosaic Taphouse, which opened in St. Johns in November 2023. The beer destination offers a food menu of Vietnamese fusion small plates by Chem Gio alongside West Coaststyle IPAs, lagers, pilsners, sours, porters, stouts, and other beers. (7955 N Lombard, mosaictaps.com)
Red Sauce Pizza
Apizza Scholls alum Shardell Dues believes less is more when it comes to the eponymous sauce that she tops her gently charred pies with. All pizzas here start with the essentials: aged mozzarella, Grana Padano, pecorino, and red sauce before getting zhuzhed up with toppings like spicy honey, Calabrese salami, or Scalia anchovy. Not in the mood for pizza? The restaurant also slings hoagies on the weekend. (4641 NE Fremont, redsaucepizza.com)
Sammich
Those in search of Chicago Italian beef or Montreal-style pastrami sandwiches to die for (see: the Pastrami Zombie) head to Mel McMillan’s East Burnside sammich shop. The Chicago native and Cubs fanatic sources regional produce and uses locally baked bread to construct the sandwiches that showcase her house-smoked meats. (2137 E Burnside, sammichrestaurants.com)
Speed-O Cappuccino
Flipping the script on the classic “bikini barista” format, this cheeky Barbie-pink espresso stand and vegan food cart founded by sex workers Dahlia Hanson and Joseph Miller employs a staff of queer sex workers, or as they put it, “thembos and flirts.” Besides coffee drinks, you can expect to find vegan versions of Crunchwraps and deep-fried Oreos. ( 1015 SE Stark, speed-ocappuccino.square.site)
The Sports Bra Chef-owner Jenny Nguyen opened this women-focused sports bar and restaurant with a name inspired by a long-standing joke between her and her friends. The establishment shows women’s sports, including Portland Thorns games and ATA Football matches, on the TVs and highlights products from women-owned businesses on its menu, such as booze from Freeland Spirits and Carman Ranch beef. Nguyen’s menu of classic pub grub features family recipes like “Mom’s baby back ribs” and chicken or cauliflower wings slathered with “Aunt Tina’s Vietna-glaze.” In early June, the sports bar announced an expansion into Boston, Indianapolis, Las Vegas, and St. Louis. (2512 NE Broadway, thesportsbraofficial.com)
Taqueria Los Puñales
Brian Aster and David Madrigal’s Belmont taqueria specializes in soul-satisfying guisados made with a variety of proteins, like cachete (braised beef cheeks), chipotle-sauced soy curls, mole poblano shredded chicken, and cochinita pibil. The restaurant’s social media accounts are worth a follow for the staff’s cheeky content . (3312 SE Belmont, lospunales.com)
Tin Shed Garden Cafe
Christie Griffin and Janette Kaden run this homey eco-friendly and dog-friendly cafe, bringing longtime Shed employee Eric Pottenger aboard as a co-owner in early 2025. Tin Shed serves everything from breakfast burritos to biscuits and gravy and has been featured on the Food Network and in the New York Times. (1438 NE Alberta, tinshedgardencafe.com) ■
The Sports Bra
COURTESY OF THE SPORTS BRA / DOROTHY WANG
Music and Lyrics by SARA BAREILLES
Bach’s Lost Passion Returns! Vanished since 1750, J.S. Bach’s Markus Passion is resurrected in a bold, 80-minute “pocket passion” copresented by Portland Baroque Orchestra and Oregon Bach Festival.
Starring Fresh Prince of Bel-Air’s Joseph Marcell and a powerhouse cast of four singers, narrator, and period orchestra, this intimate, theatrical concert brings Bach’s missing masterpiece back to life.
Drama. Music. History. Reimagined. Don’t miss the Pacific Northwest premiere!
Book by JESSIE NELSON Based upon the motion picture written by ADRIENNE SHELLY
Be Gay, Haunt
Portland dancer Allie Hankins on being a people pleaser, queer desire, and why haunting belongs to lesbians.
BY SUZETTE SMITH
“If you’re a performer, manipulation is something you have to do,” says choreographer and dancer Allie Hankins. “I don’t think it’s negative. I’m not doing it maliciously. I’m not trying to make anyone do something they don’t want to do. I’m just trying to manipulate them into thinking that this is a good time.”
It’s an interesting admission for an artist whose latest performance work, By My Own Hand: Melody involves her on her hands and knees, laughing manically under a sheet, while degraded tape loops of long-ago recorded songs crackle ominously. Describing it sounds like a caricature of avant-garde dance. But when Hankins does it, it’s focused, funny, thoughtful, and—when you weren’t even paying attention—profound.
As one of Shaking the Tree’s 2025 Live Performance Artist Residents, Hankins will perform the latest iteration of her By My Own Hand series for three evening shows, July 11-13.
Hankins has been performing parts of By My Own Hand for three years and working on it for nearly eight. “I really thought it was going to be one solo, addressing these five tools,” she sighs, in an interview with the Mercury . Back when she started working on this solo show in 2017, Hankins broke her onstage manipulations into five methods. Three, so far, have become shows: Ghosting , Transparency , and The Ache. Now, the fourth show in the five-part series is Melody.
“I’ll tell you my five tools of manipulation,” Hankins said in Ghosting. They were: ghosting, transparency, the ache, melody, and saxophones.
“But we’re not calling part five saxophones,” she says now.
Put perhaps too simply, the explanations of these tools are “acting a little mysterious,” telling stories, nostalgia, and singing. Saxophones is her humor—itself being a joke that breaks the form.
If you saw Ghosting in 2022, you will rec-
ognize some of the worn 20-second tape loops that are still part of Melody . Each iteration of the series carries the remnants of her former performances. Part two was choreographed by Takahiro Yamamoto, Lu Yim, keyon gaskin, claire barrera, and Linda Austin. Part five will be danced and performed by those same choreographers. This makes Melody the last part of Hankins’ series that she will dance as a solo, and as it is the most focused on song, it has become her eulogy for the series.
“It’s quite literal,” she says of the theme. “People really like it when I sing, and I sing a lot in the show.” Melody also showcases Hankins’ increased skill with utilizing cassette recorders, both in making loops and in arranging the various independent machines (there are around 10 now) into layered soundscapes.
The distortion of the recordings over time allows the audience to project their own narratives onto what other stories might run inside By My Own Hand . It can take several listens to work out what Hankins was singing back in 2017, but a lot of it has to do with death or burying.
“Before I started this work, I read this essay ‘Female Spectator, Lesbian Specter: The Haunting ,’ by Patricia White, which discusses the idea thatthe specter in the film is lesbianism. My work really interacts with desire, generally, and queer desire certainly.”
Hankins says she loves the way The Haunting (1963) was filmed, especially the idea that much of the actual haunt happens via disruption. “The way that Hollywood cinema was able to talk about or introduce lesbianism was to insert women into these paranormal situations, like their sexuality is the haunting. I can’t say I’m explicitly referencing it, but that idea is always present for me.” ■
By My Own Hand, Part 4: Melody plays at Shaking the Tree Theatre, 823 SE Grant, July 11-13 7:30 pm, $10-45 sliding scale, alliehankins.com.
MICHELLE SMITH-LEWIS
Allie Hankins
Battle of the Hexes Post-punk weirdos Casual Hex
hold a black
mirror to
society
on Zig Zag Lady Illusion II.
BY NOLAN PARKER
Now split between Portland, Seattle, and Tacoma, Casual Hex return with new album Zig Zag Lady Illusion II—the politically charged sonic continuation of their first full-length. The new LP dropped June 13 via Seattle’s Youth Riot Records.
The band has been quiet since the release of their weirdo post-punk monolith Zig Zag Lady Illusion in 2018, and—despite being one of Seattle’s best bands at the time—went dormant for years. That is until last month, when they surprise-released the psychedelic music video for “The System,” announcing their new album Zig Zag Lady Illusion II
From the very beginning of their relationship, core band members Erica Miller (guitar) and Jessie Odell (bass) had plans to create music together, “Jessie and I have known each other since middle school. We had high school guitar class together and talked about moving to Portland to start a band,” explains Miller, of her and Odell’s time growing up in Maryland.
Miller did end up in Portland post-high school, with Odell heading to Seattle. Convinced of their need to start a band, Miller was driving up and down the I-5 corridor until relocating to the Emerald City. The foundation was—quite literally—immediately laid for Casual Hex once Miller moved to Seattle in 2015. “I was introduced to [our first drummer] Nick Anderson the day I moved to Seattle. The three of us hung out at Cafe Presse, then jammed until four in the morning,” remembers Miller. “That was basically the inception of us playing music together, it was meant to be.”
Anderson moved to New York and no longer plays with Casual Hex, though he was quintessential in getting the band to where it is today. “He played on the first album, and we did a European tour with him,” says Odell. “We miss him.” “It was really hard for us to find a new drummer that was as good a fit,” laments Miller. “Me, Jessie, and Nick were best friends, hanging out constantly.”
Finding the right person to join a band, especially when the group is already an album deep, is like finding a drumstick in a haystack—it’s not easy, but when it happens, you lock in immediately. After playing with several drummers—including Anthony Beauchemin of J.R.C.G., and Fiona Moonchild, who played with Scott Yoder—Keegan Wiltshire
joined the band in January of this year. He and Odell play in Seattle garage band the Nags; once the three were able to meet and jam together, it was a no-brainer asking Wiltshire to join Casual Hex permanently.
Between a rotating cast of drummers, Miller’s move back down to Portland, and the pandemic, a seven-year gap separating the band’s two full-lengths is understandable, perhaps even necessary. Zig Zag Lady Illusion II continues the band’s black-mirroring of society’s existential collapse. The absurdism of expectations placed upon individuals ranking lower in the currently resolidifying caste system, when those at the top need not worry about
laws or the lives of other humans, is not lost on Casual Hex.
Nowhere on the album is this more potently felt than on the opening track and first single, “The System.” Miller’s deadpan continually asks both the listener and the powers that be, “Can you tell us why it’s all a disguise?” The human answer here is no, no one can say why world powers like the United States continually fund genocide around the globe when issues including houselessness and gun violence in this country are epidemics. The capitalistic answer to the question is money and power—trite desires that should pale in comparison to the need for building com -
munity and expanding social resources. That same line can also be read as Miller asking, “Can you tell us why?” and then immediately answering her own question: “It’s all a disguise.” The lyricism here is unbelievably nuanced while remaining completely relatable to every person who isn’t a billionaire.
“Samuel Joner II” shares a name with the “Samuel Joner” track on ZZLI —both are mid-album noise-psych freakouts akin to the more experimental Sonic Youth offerings of the mid-’90s. It acts as a palate cleanser between the two sides of the record. Not that the A and B Sides are departures from one another, rather the “Samuel Joner” tracks offer a moment without vocals for the listener to absorb and process.
Album favorite “Active Wire” heralds the beginning of Zig Zag Lady Illusion II ’s
The lyricism is unbelievably nuanced while remaining completely relatable to every person who isn’t a billionaire.
second half with the frightening statement: “We found fear and our bodies were inside.” Are our bodies inside our own fears? Do we fear the Self to the point of alienation and isolation? These questions can’t immediately be answered by the collective, but must first be reckoned with by the individual—only then can we address and eventually live with our Selfs and the Selfs of others.
Noisy late-album meisterwerk “No A” sums up the album’s themes with deft precision when Miller repeats, “Power, control, and ammunition,” over the angular drones of guitar, bass, and percussion. Not conceptually dissimilar from Janet Jackson’s meteoric 1986 single “Control,” both Jackson and Miller seek emancipation from established and would-be systems of oppression—understanding and acknowledging what it means and will take to become completely autonomous. ■
ZZLI2 is out now via Seattle’s Youth Riot Records.
VIC LUNA
Odell (left) and Miller (right) with the Zig Zag Lady Illusion.
Rockhounding the Rainbow
Be gay, look for cool rocks.
STORY AND PHOTOS BY
ALISON JEAN COLE
As simple pleasures are gay and hiking is gay, it feels easy to declare that the sport of rockhounding is also a gay activity. And the Pacific Northwest is home to the pros. For this guide, I have collected some recommendations for where you might find beautiful rocks, and eventually build your own rainbow. Let a middle-aged lesbian author of a niche hobby guide show you the way.
Red
Meyer’s Creek, OR
Just south of the Oregon coastal town of Gold Beach, a diminutive creek runs out of the Coast Range, across the sandy beach, and into the sea. At high tide, sand inun dates all, but as the tide re cedes, we find treasure. Cobbles of bright red rocks emerge from the creek bed and glim mer in the sun, spi der-webbed with veins of calcite and quartz. It’s likely these crimson rocks hail from the ancient Yolla Bolly terrane, (which would be a great name for a lesbian bar). The Yolla Bolly formed during the reign of the dinosaurs, when the Earth was hotter and steamier–at its gayest best.
try. A rainbow of rocks can be found here alone, but the ones that catch our eye are the salmony-orange granites—brightly lipsticked by a fabulous variety of feldspar. These rocks were once the underbelly of the continent, brought up to street-level as the Earth shed her glorious coat. Sparkly schist flashes among the colorful granites on this quiet stretch of river. The best place to collect is at the Burma Road Bridge between Twisp and Pateros. Bring a bucket and your best feather boa.
Yellow
Stonerose Fossil Quarry, WA
Orange Methow River, WA
On the quiet, eastern flanks of Washington’s North Cascades, the Methow River drains ancient rocks into sagebrush coun-
Some 50 million years ago, a vibrant lake formed at the base of a magnificent volcano. Over the eons, pulses of autumn leaves sank to the bottom of the lake forming a muddy layer that would eventually turn to stone. Today, in the quaint mining town of Republic, Washington, a cliff of these ancient sediments has been unearthed. Amid the golden mudstones, ancient plants are preserved as delicate carbon films of their former selves. With each split, visitors to the dig site reveal leafy ghosts to a sun they haven’t seen in 50 million years. How the world has changed since the days of their last photosynthesis! “I come here often / To see these delicate stems / Breathed on the rock like frost crystals on a window / But permanently / But forever,” wrote the late poet Lindley Williams Hubbell. It’s hard not to feel deeply moved by the ability to split a mere stone and reach through time.
Green Hamma Hamma River, WA
Upon first glance, one might suppose the almost neon green rocks along this river’s misty banks are covered in some sort of radiant moss or club-kid lichen. But no— these rocks are inherently, indelibly, effervescently, Grinch green. And it’s all thanks to the mineral epidote. In the rock world, epidote is the hot trans man. Epidote shows up in rocks that have been hydrothermal ly altered as Earth’s crust gets shoved around. Here, on the wayward side of the Olympic Peninsula, seafloor sediments and old lavas shoved up against the continent in a mosh-pit of tectonics. These bright green rocks were once humble marine stuff, now transitioned to a spectacular gem material that almost no one can resist. Find your way to the banks of the river at the Hamma Hamma Campground, and you’ll see just what I mean.
The Clarno volcanoes erupted enormous amounts of lava onto the landscape here, some which eroded into colorful clay minerals that impart bright teal colors seen in the stone. Head to the Painted Hills, then drive north to the Burnt Ranch site along the river. Explore the ravines for this party rock from a much hotter world.
Purple
Blue
Burnt Ranch, John Day River, OR Along the steep slopes of the John Day River, bright teal rocks crop out of the ravines. These impressive stones hail from lava flows of the ancient Clarno volcanoes, which erupted some 50 million years ago. Back then, the Earth was hotter and steamier. The age of mammals had just begun.
Quarry above Eagle Rock, OR Okay, purple is a stretch. But no one would fight me if I said these rocks were mauve. The quarry these rocks hail from perches high in the Ochoco Range with sweeping views of the central Oregon landscape. The rock deposit is an orby and bubbly patch of ancient volcanic ash that blanketed the landscape some 25 million years ago. The Crooked River Caldera, from which this material exploded, is now considered to be among the largest volcanic explosions in Earth’s history, yet few people have ever heard of it. How obscure! It’s a steep hike up to this location, but the variety of treasure to be found among the quarry’s tailings makes it worth the effort. You are guaranteed to find a veritable rainbow of rocks. ■
Alison Jean Cole is the author of A Rockhound’s Guide to Oregon & Washington (Mountaineers Books, 2025) alisonjeancole.com
A bright blue rock from the steep slopes of the John Day River.
Fridays at Laurelhurst Park
Blankets drop at 6pm
Free Comedy at 6:30pm
Kickstand Comedy in the Park
Hosted by Julia Corral and Rachelle Cochran
Open access the first Friday of the month
Always Here Comes Home
After two years operating as a pop-up, this queer bookshop has a new, permanent North Portland space.
BY
TAYLOR
GRIGGS
John and Rafael Hart, the couple behind North Portland’s worker-owned, queer-focused Always Here bookstore, are planning to stick around for the long haul. After about a year and a half operating their store as a pop-up, Always Here recently reopened in the old Craft Factory storefront on the corner of N Williams at Going Street. With a five-year lease in place, the Harts are ready to establish their bookstore as a neighborhood fixture—not just a place to get books, but also a reliable hangout spot and refuge.
“Bookstores are a retail business, but they’re also not. The retail part is how you stay [in business],” Rafael said in a recent interview with the Mercury . “Most community-focused bookstores are also a place where people can just hang out.”
The name Always Here is a reference to the fact that—despite anti-LGBTQ+ narratives to the contrary—queer and trans people have always been here. But it also speaks to the Harts’ goals for their shop. The pair started Always Here in 2023 as a mobile book cart, setting up at Pride events and other markets around the city. After a few months, Asian American-focused art space Jelly Cup Collective invited them to temporarily share a storefront just a few blocks south of their current location. Finally, late last year, they found their current space and opened in March.
Inside Always Here, LGBTQ+ pride flags line the walls above the bookshelves. There’s a busy bulletin board advertising a trans book club and resources for people seeking gender-affirming care. The rest of the store is filled with shelves of colorful books, tables displaying more titles, and a few reading chairs.
The store’s selection, much of which engages with queer stories to some degree, spans all ages. But the Harts say the sections for youth are the “heart and soul of the store,” and acknowledge that queer young people can feel particularly isolated and in need of friendly hangout spots.
“It takes extra effort to include young ones in community with queer people,” John said. “Retail businesses, by and large, treat teenagers like a liability…if you come [to Always Here] and you have no money, and you sit in our chairs and read five entire
graphic novels and leave, I’m going to say ‘thank you.’ It sincerely means a lot.” Books and comfy chairs aren’t the only resources the Harts provide. The store keeps “mutual aid lockers” in the bathroom, stocked with supplies including
Always Here is a reference to the fact that—despite anti-LGBTQ+ narratives to the contrary—queer and trans people have always been here.
menstrual products, Narcan, socks, and gender-affirming gear like chest binders and breast forms, for discreet access. The products, which Always Here accepts via donation, are available to all free of charge, but may be particularly appreciated by young trans or gender nonconforming people who lack other support.
In the atmosphere of increasing vitriol that targets queer and trans youth, adults who are supportive of young trans people have been slammed as “groomers,” an accusation even sharper for adults who are queer themselves. To the Harts, this political reality makes their jobs all the more important. Rafael said they’ve found a welcoming community through the bookstore and value the ability to help others seeking support. On a more personal level, they said they’re not going to let the bigots win.
“I took almost 30 years to get comfortable with my own queerness and transness,” they said. “I’m not going to let the powers that be take that from me. I’m not going to stop doing what I want to do, because people are being hateful.”
As for what’s next for the bookstore, the Harts say they’re looking forward to hosting author readings and regular events, like book clubs and writing groups, which are much more feasible to plan in a permanent space.
“We’re planning for the future,” John said. “Some of the bookstores that we look up to have been around since the ’70s. If we can be around even half as long as them, there’s a lot to accomplish.” ■
Always Here, 4555 N Williams, alwaysherebooks.com
Rafael (left) and John Hart under the shop sign.
TAYLOR GRIGGS
Cathartic Comics Assemble!
A new collection from Black queer Portland cartoonist Rupert Kinnard explores his comics, artistry, and activism.
BY KJERSTIN JOHNSON
Ytime. Ooops … I Catharted: Fifty Years of Cathartic Comics isn’t just a sizable collection of strips, but an archive of Kinnard’s journey as an activist and artist.
ou’ve probably seen Rupert Kinnard’s smile if you’ve passed the downtown Portland mural on NW Couch at Broadway. A wheelchair user since a car accident in 1996, Kinnard sits between Kathleen Saadat and Lynn Nakamoto, two other icons of Portland’s queer history. Look closer, to the bottom of the mural, and you’ll see two smaller figures who look like they might’ve just beamed in from Saturn—the Brown Bomber and Diva Touché Flambé, the two stars of Kinnard’s Cathartic Comics Gay, Black, and proud of it, the Brown Bomber and the Diva helmed Kinnard’s comic that ran for about a decade in the pages of alt weeklies and queer newspapers in the ’80s and ’90s. Like the protagonists of contemporary comics Doonesbury and Dykes to Watch Out For (and later The Boondocks ), the Brown Bomber and the Diva called out Republican hypocrites, celebrity foibles, and yuppies, but Cathartic Comics came from a uniquely Black, gay, and intersectional perspective.
The Brown Bomber (wide-eyed, fun-loving) and the Diva (wizened, unbothered) called out exorbitant AIDS drug costs and
Spike Lee Oscar snubs with the same ease as pillorying straight-people shenanigans or racism in the gay community. But the comic still came from a place of love; the creator deeply cared about his creations (including Vanilla Cremepuff, the gay white male character), and the strip carried an ever-present sense of playfulness.
If any of this sounds familiar, you might have seen Kinnard in the 2021 documentary No Straight Lines: The Rise of Queer Comics, which featured Kinnard alongside his peers Alison Bechdel, Howard Cruse, and Jennifer Camper. Cathartic Comics was also displayed at the Portland Art Museum’s Black Artists of Oregon 2023 exhibit, which featured his original drawings and the 1992 collection B.B. and the Diva under glass.
For decades, this slim volume—long out of print—was the only collection of Cathartic Comics . Unlike the work of other local comics legends, readers couldn’t check Kinnard’s work out from the library or find it easily at Powell’s.
Now, almost half a century since the Brown Bomber debuted in Kinnard’s college paper in Iowa, a hefty new book from Stacked Deck Press is making up for lost
“It’s dense, you know. It’s not just a simple collection of comic strips,” says Kinnard from his home in Northeast Portland. “[But I’m thrilled] to have the opportunity to present not only all of those comics, but the story of the comics. The reaction to the book has been incredibly rewarding. I think they delight in the history, almost folklore, of the comics.”
In addition to a robust collection of Cathartic strips, the book contains photos, early drawings, and the story of Kinnard’s journey from Midwest to West Coast, with annotated strips, character lore, and small bits of trivia. For example, a 25-yearold Colman Domingo played the Brown Bomber in a 1994 San Francisco stage play called Out of the Inkwell
“The book is more than an archival collection of comics, which would’ve been impressive on its own,” says Jason Levian of Floating World Comics, where Kinnard held a release party on June 21. “It includes a complete biography, with photos and artifacts, that tells Rupert’s life story and places his impressive career into a historical context.”
Ooops… also reprints the forward from the ’92 book, written by filmmaker Marlon Riggs, who died tragically young from
AIDS in 1996. Like Kinnard, Riggs was unapologetically himself and used art to share what it meant to be a Black gay man living—surviving—through the Reagan era. Through Kinnard, he found a kindred spirit and friend, and in Cathartic Comics he found “a comic strip I could identify with and laugh about—a rare, affirming laughter.” It’s also a book of Portland lore. Kinnard moved here in the late ’70s and worked as a graphic designer at The Skanner, Willamette Week, and Just Out—a local gay publication he helped found. He freelanced and donated work to other progressive and grassroots organizations and was on the board of the Portland Town Council, the city’s first gay rights coalition.
Kinnard and Cathartic Comics spent seven years in the Bay Area before moving back to Portland in the mid-’90s, where he resumed his graphic design and community work. He helped found and run Brother to Brother Portland, a kinship group for African American gay and bi men and was a plaintiff with his partner, Scott, in Basic Rights Oregon’s challenge to Measure 36, which defined marriage as between a man and a woman. It’s past time for new generations to get to know Kinnard, one of Portland’s queer elders and for comics fans to meet his boundary-breaking characters, Brown
and the Diva. ■
Bomber
Left: Kinnard’s comics ran in the pages of ’80s and ’90s alt weeklies. Right: A new anthology collects his work.
Undercurrents
Astrological Insight and Horoscopes
Explore planetary motion as a mirror for inner and outer reflection.
BY KENZIE BALLEW
ILLUSTRATION BY KATH SPILKER
Planetary Overview
Happy Summer Solstice and welcome to Cancer season! As the Sun sidesteps through the crab’s domain, it moves with caution and care. Cancer season offers a moment to pause, reflect, and take inventory of our internal landscapes—bonus points if this is done with a furrowed brow at water’s edge. We all know the common trope of Cancers being crybabies, but crying is literally just saltwater healing us. What could be more Cancerian than that? The Sun’s entrance into Leo on July 22nd sets the stage for a loving “honey roast” of Cancer season’s water works. Happy jesting!
Though much planetary activity is inherently temporal, this season is shaped by slower, more lasting shifts. On June 9th, Jupiter started its one-
Aries Rising
Aries, does it feel as if your pilot light has gone out? With Saturn and Neptune transiting your first house, it can leave you feeling slowed down, frustrated, or disoriented. Look toward your root systems for relief and solace during this time. Jupiter’s presence in Cancer facilitates nourishment through home, family, and quiet respite. This month also offers a glimpse of longer-term relational changes affecting familiar spaces, communication, or your extended family.
Taurus Rising
The Sun is currently shining on immediate spatial community, siblings, and communication. Jupiter in Cancer breathes life into your local world offering opportunities for healing and comfort to be found in familiar surroundings. Find the literal or metaphorical watering hole in your neighborhood and fill your cup. Prepare for longer-term changes regarding life-sustaining resources. Patience is tested as you work through hidden, unprocessed feelings—a new cycle invites reckoning with old patterns of self-sabotage.
Gemini Rising
July is major for you, Gemini. From the 7th onward, opportunities for reinvention will present themselves. Allow fresh air to circulate as you invite curiosity and experimentation into your exploration of selfhood and identity. This year will also support healing your relationships with life-giving resources. Tension around communal aspirations may inspire one to ask, “Is the dream shared, or is that a glass ceiling above us?”
Cancer Rising
The Sun is illuminating the part of the chart that’s solely yours, and its currency is attention. Gentle care and presence toward Self are called for now. Jupiter supports this tender act bringing a year of hope and blessings to body, vitality, and overall outlook. After a rocky start to the year, allow yourself to float instead of grind. Draw on these glimmers of hope as you navigate existential questions addressing career and life direction, as well as insight into patterns of self-sabotage.
Leo Rising
Cancer season casts light on parts of the Self that often remain elusive. Facing old, unprocessed feelings can feel isolating. An exalted Jupiter transiting your twelfth house can make this process less daunting. Taking inventory of this liminal terrain offers relief, even if you don’t sort everything out all at once. If you’re unpacking tension or disorientation around belief systems—fire divination offers support. As July unfolds, expect an influx of activity in your wider community and networks.
Virgo Rising
This month offers an opportunity to take inventory of life behind-thescenes. Introspection here brings clarity regarding ways you’re holding yourself back. Jupiter brings fertile ground to your social sphere—tend to those seeds and nurture wild dreams with your friends! Tensions arise around shared resources, requiring either surrender or new structure. After July 7th, pay attention to emerging clues about long-term changes taking shape in public life and careers.
year tour in the sign of its exaltation. Jupiter in Cancer brings the breath of life to whatever it touches, offering a milky balm for the wounds left earlier this year by Mars. Saturn entered Aries, the sign of its fall, in late May. Saturn, slow and cool, embodies discipline and restraint. Aries is hot, impulsive, and a little irreverent. This creates an incubator for frustration and necessitates rule-breaking to move forward. On July 7th, Uranus enters Gemini, breaking new ground. Uranus is the lightning bolt of insight, surprise, and rebellion. In Gemini, it supports innovative thinking, and can sometimes feel busy or frenetic. Both Saturn and Uranus will retrograde out of these signs later this year, but their brief stay offers valuable insight about multiple year cycles they’ll both begin in 2026.
Libra Rising
This time signals a yearlong period of growth as it relates to public image, legacy, and reputation. Earlier this year, adversity may have negatively colored this part of your chart. Now you have the chance not only to recover, but to step into greater visibility and positively reshape how you’ll be known and remembered. In interpersonal relationships, tension surfaces between union and boundaries. Revelations and departures from long-standing beliefs are revealed by mid-July. Old dogs can learn new tricks.
Scorpio Rising
An opportunity for world building and expansion is unfolding over the next 12 months—travel, higher learning, or a spiritually nourishing practice are just a few examples of how this growth can take shape. Nourishing this part of your life supports a rosier disposition when looking at the energy of the world right now. This is a period when sacrifices need to be made in support of sustainable, long-term health. Previews of deeper changes developing around shared resources, trust, and intimacy deserve attention.
Sagittarius Rising
A year to focus on the hidden and heavy themes of life is upon you, Sagittarius. This includes situations involving shared resources, emotional intimacy, and material/energetic inheritance. Though intense, there’s potential for relief via financial or emotional support. This requires an openness toward vulnerability, and receiving help. Simultaneous creative blockage and inspiration are cycles to be aware of; can making something
help ease that tension? Beginning July 7th, note surprising shifts in relationship dynamics.
Capricorn Rising
Have home, ancestry, or private life been beckoning you, Capricorn? This signals a slow rebuilding of your foundation. Disillusionment around family structures or upbringing points toward a need to break ancestral cycles and deviate from long-standing norms in your lineage. Jupiter offers myriad blessings to interpersonal connections over the next year. Note restlessness in day-to-day work as deeper changes are beginning to unfold in this part of your life.
Aquarius Rising
In the last month, have you experienced disillusionment or distance regarding siblings, immediate community, or communication? Patience and clear dialogue are key as you work to recalibrate. Jupiter begins a yearlong stay in the part of your chart governing unseen labor—this bodes well for overall health and burnout relief. Beginning July 7th, become curious about new desires and modes of experiencing joy.
Pisces Rising
A one-year period of creative fertility has begun. During this time, focus on nurturing and healing your sense of self expression. Get realistic about whether your financial and energetic resources are being allocated sustainably, and create structure if things feel vague. A gentle shaking of the foundation begins in your private life and home signaling a longer story beginning to unfurl. ■
Kenzie Ballew is a consulting astrologer and Portland School of Astrology alum. Utilizing her nearly two-decades of astrological study, she offers oneon-one astrological services through her practice, heavy water astrology. She’s currently pursuing her masters in counseling with plans to integrate astrology into her therapeutic practices.To learn more, and explore her offerings, visit heavywaterastrology.com.
Kath Spilker is an artist and tattooer living and working on Duwamish land in Seattle, WA. Find more of their work on Instagram @hotpawspokes.
DO THIS, DO THAT, DO PRIDE
BY LINDSAY COSTELLO, NOLAN PARKER, AND SUZETTE SMITH
Thursday, June 26
Lavender League
Community & Activism
Though the season has already started, there’re still plenty of chances to bicycle kick with the best queer soccer players in Portland! Even if you didn’t sign up to join a team, the league is always looking for substitute players—get at them to be added to their Signal and put in rotation. Launching in spring 2024, Lavender League has built a safer space centering queer femmes, gender nonconforming people, and trans communities looking to explore soccer, something that was sorely missing in the fabric of queer community looking building in Portland. Thanks to them, dozens of soccer players that didn’t feel comfortable or safe playing in other leagues now have a space to shout, “gooooooooooooooooal,” while running around the pitch with their shirts over their heads. (Clinton City Park, all ages/skill levels, lavenderleaguepdx.org)
NOLAN PARKER
Gays Getting Wet Ride
Community & Activism
You deserve to swim, even if you aren’t gay (the flyer says “allies tolerated”) but especially if you are gay. Meet up at 6 pm, ride somewhere wet, be sweaty, get wet, rinse, and repeat. There’s more than one of these rides on the Pedalpalooza calendar, planned by someone who identifies as having a unicorn floatie. Gays could be getting wet in your area. (Colonel Summers Park, SE Belmont and 20th, 6:30 pm, shift2bikes.org, all ages) SUZETTE SMITH
Queer & Trans Yoga
Community & Activism
So you’ve been throwin’ ass at Judy, Twirl, and Let Her Cook, and now your neck, your back, your kundalini, and your crack are all sore… What now? Why, queer and trans yoga at Bhakti Yoga Movement Center of course. Yoga, even if you’re not into its associated spiritual practices, is so powerfully restoring and calming, it should be covered by insurance. Plus, how else are you going to uncoil the snake at the bottom of your spine and open your kundalini? This is Pride after all! BYMC offers two queer and trans classes a week—even outside of Pride season—making them a community favorite for actually creating spaces year-round for gays and the dolls. (Queer & Trans Yoga at Bhakti Yoga Movement Center, 2500 SE 26th, Tues 7 pm, Thurs 8:15 pm, thebymc.com) NP
Welcome to the C*ntry Club
Music & Nightlife
We’re not seeing a ton of Pride dance parties at Holocene this year, but this one is guaranteed to get very hot, sweaty, and deeply cunty. Portland’s very own DJ Sappho spins eclectic country-adjacent tracks by the likes of Beyoncé, Dolly Parton, and Sabrina Carpenter that you can shuffle and turn to. Expect predominantly bangers and stand in awe of how Sappho will surprise. (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison, 9 pm, whatthedance.com, 21+) SS
2025
The gayest-looking queer bike rides, dance parties, and community events on our calendar this Pride season.
Peachy Springs Bingo Residency Wednesday, July 2
Friday, June 27
M3GAN 2.0
Arts & Culture
How did a psychopathic robot dressed like a little girl become a queer icon? Many have pondered this question needlessly. M3GAN is FIERCE, and M3GAN doesn’t want to be in the CLOSET. She’s so self-aware that the first film M3GAN (2022) also became sentient and soon evolved into campy bloodshed. Will 2.0 live up to the bloody, backbiting heights (maybe we just projected our queerness onto M3GAN?)? Returning director Gerard Johnstone and screenwriter Akela Cooper invite us to judge. (various theaters) SS
Saturday, June 28
Summer Slut Halfway 2 PDX Pride Crash Out Lock In Music & Nightlife
Sometimes Klip Klop parties sound like something from the famously extravagant and bizarre New York club scene, or is she making fun of that? Hosted by
B3ntl3y, Bolivia Carmichaels, Katya, and Silhouette, the Summer Slut promises a Pride-season dance party of “steamy go-gos, scandalous drag, pulsating beats, and enough sweaty bodies to steam your sunglasses.” Pay structures are based on your outfit. (CC Slaughters, 219 NW Davis, FREE before 9 pm, $10 after, linktr. ee/klipklopproductions, 21+) SS
Sunday, June 29
Oaks Park: Pride Rides Community & Activism
A few weeks ago the Mercury staff took a field trip to Oaks Park for their Gay Skate night—it was truly so inspiring and nourishing seeing the rink filled to the brim with people from all over the gay alphabet cutting laps and twirling for their lives. There were fags and dykes who had clearly been skating their entire lives, furries with their tails out, PLUR gays getting their rave on, dolls as good as Olympic figureskaters, and so many more. The fabulous queen Bolivia Carmichaels was behind the decks spinning music and emceeing the whole dang thing, can you even? The fourth
annual Pride Rides will, I imagine, will be similar to their monthly Gay Skate, but will feature a bunch of gay extras in the rink and all over the amusement park! (Oaks Park, 7805 SE Oaks Park Way, 12 pm, all ages) NP Expansive Love Book Launch Arts & Culture
Relationship anarchy refers to a practice that is enticing in theory, but takes work to actually implement. It’s a simple idea, really—prioritize all types of relationships, not just romantic ones. But if you’ve ever been down bad, you’ve likely neglected a friendship or seven. Tuck Malloy, a queer relationship anarchist, sex educator, and prolific Instagrammer, has written a book on working toward an
ANDREIA CLARO
ethical community of friends and lovers alike. Expansive Love: A Practical Guide to Relationship Anarchy guides readers through intimate relationship-building; expect a mix of useful tools and philosophical-sexological context. (She Bop, 909 N Beech, 7:30 pm, sheboptheshop.com, 18+) LINDSAY COSTELLO
Wednesday, July 2
Peachy Springs Bingo Residency
Drag & Performance
FUCK, that went FAST. This event was about to be the last scheduled bingo night for Portland’s premiere hard-working, foul-mouthed bingo-hostin’ drag queen Peachy Springs, and the conclusion of her Tomorrow Theater residency. But they’ve extended her shows through August! Swoop up a seat at this or one of the August shows while you can! (Tomorrow Theater, 3530 SE Division, 7 pm, tomorrowtheater.org, all ages) SS
Saturday, July 5
Bijoux Cone
Music & Nightlife
When she’s not touring the world with Gossip or down in Brazil playing solo sets and DJing, Bijoux Cone can be found casing the streets of Portland, making some of the city’s best music. Her most recent LP, Love Is Trash, is one of my favorite albums of the last five years—it’s real, it’s camp, it’s stoned, it’s pure summer! Bijoux, if you’re reading this can you please put out another record? We miss you! Portland’s Pool Boys will be delivering their dreamy, surfy harmonies in the middle slot, while Brooklyn’s Ghost Piss open this mother up with their indie electro-pop à la the Blow and Nouvelle Vague. (Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi, 9 pm, mississippistudios.com, 21+) NP
Saturday, July 12
LGBTQ+ Outdoors: Elk Meadows
Hike
Community & Activism
It’s so important to celebrate Mother during Pride, Mother Earth that is. Hiking is mad queer: you’re throwing lewks on the trail, getting hot and sweaty, and you can flag your preferences without the straights knowing. OMG, should we start using the hanky code while hiking?? And wow, this LGBTQ+ Outdoors-coordinated hike might be just the event to launch this revolutionary idea. The hike will take you through flowering meadows and old growth forest up to Elk Meadows—the iconic Mt. Hood saying, “Hey, girl,” if the weather’s money shot the big pay out on this hike. The hike is all ages, free (with a $10 suggested donation), and dogs are allowed (on leash)! All this with a bunch of queers?
Ever been to a party with vegan Mexican food, a deadlift demonstration, and a cumbia dance lesson?
Vegan taqueria Mis Tacones and nonprofit Gym Space Equity are coming together to maximize their joint slay, throwing a Pride Block Party with all the
food and cocktail
it down for you on the dance floor. All afternoon, the block will be lined with vendors and organizations like Ice Queen PDX, Orange & Blossom Patisserie, De La Rosa Vintage, Green Acres Farm Sanctuary, and more. (NE 17th & Killingsworth, all ages mistaconespdx.com) JANEY WONG
ROY G. BIV’s Queer Comedy Show
Drag & Performance
A queer comedy show that regularly sold out Crush Bar, ROY G. BIV pops up at the Siren for this Pride one-off. If they sell out, maybe this could be a thing, comedy fans. Stand-up hosts Delaney Malone, Rachelle Cochran, and Ash Allen welcome other comedians Brendan Creecy, Grew Grizzly, Devi Kirsch, and Juno Men for super funny femme energy, “sliding into your summer like a well-lubed pride float.” (Siren Theater, 3913 N Mississippi, 8 pm, sirentheater.com, 21+) SS
Thursday, July 17
Portland Pickles Pride Night
Community & Activism
Baseball is pretty entertaining: The players are usually hot, and it’s so chic that Portland’s collegiate team opted for a giant green dildo as their mascot. On July 17, the Portland Pickles celebrate us homos, raising money for some very good causes in Western Oregon including Momentum Alliance, New Avenues for Youth, Q Center, and TransPonder. The Pickles also always have lit merch, and that’s pretty gay… (Walker Stadium, 7:05 pm, portlandpicklesbaseball.com, all ages) NP
Friday,
July 18
Rebound presents Zodiac Rainbow Kiki Ball 2
Music & Nightlife
You may remember Rebound PDX as the monthly kiki that popped up in a clandestine techno club beneath a rehabbed bank downtown—was there ever a more ballroom thing? She was living and thriving, giving face in the shadow of collapsed capitalist might. When that club moved on, Rebound did something even more typical of ball culture: successfully moved and rebuilt. Distinct from drag in a plethora of ways, ballroom culture was pioneered and popularized by trans and queer communities of color in ’80s East Coast and Midwest cities. Portland’s scene is small but strong. At Zodiac Rainbow Kiki Ball 2, your Zodiac sign is your house, and further lewk directions
dictate: earth signs wear camo, fire signs are in animal print, water is in denim, and air should figure out something metallic. (The Get Down, 680 SE 6th, 9 pm, reboundpdx.com, 21+) SS
Saturday, July 19
Judy on Duty Music & Nightlife
Someone once told me that you either go to Judy on Duty to start something or to finish something. Honestly? Too real. A cornerstone of queer nights out since way back in 2014, going to Judy feels like participating in an age-old queer rite: pulling a little look, bumping into at least two of your exes, yapping outside in a circle of your friends instead of dancing, then waking up the next morning in a group text discussing who kissed whom. (White Owl Social Club, 1305 SE 8th, 8 pm, 21+) JENNA FLETCHER
Sunday, July 20
Portland Pride Parade Drag & Performance
The Portland Pride Parade is a big rainbow-y extravaganza of heartwarming queerness, allyship, and people in booty shorts gyrating to bass on slowly ambling floats. (I like watching angels gyrate; this is known about me.) While it’s true that a significant portion of those marching are allies in branded swag provided by their corporate employers, there’s also
August 1-3
local nonprofits, mascots, dykes on bikes, and the two-day Waterfront Festival in Tom McCall Park. (Downtown, festival is 12-8 pm on Sat and 11:30-6pm on Sun, parade starts at 11 am on Sun, more info at portlandpride.org) SS
Twirl: A PDX Queer Disco Music & Nightlife
As of the print date for this issue, Twirl has yet to announce who will be DJing and which queens will be performing at their July extravaganza. What they have announced is exciting though: This Twirl will be taking place July 20 at the newly opened Green Anchors—an outdoor venue nestled beneath the St. Johns Bridge. It’s a seven-acre “eco-park with green and creative tendencies,” whatever that means. Regardless, it’ll be fun to cut shapes in a new outdoor venue! (Green Anchors, 8940 N Bradford, 3 pm, 21+) NP
Chai & Roses Pride Party Music & Nightlife
The first time I went to a tea dance, I tried to wear a bonnet, and my friend was like “...no.” Plenty of tea dances are indiscernible from any other dj party. But of the tried and true things to do on Portland’s parade weekend, this Sunday Tea Dance may have the most interesting vibes—and it’ll certainly have the best jams. Co-hosted with PDX Queer Asians, Chai & Roses boasts DJ Suavecito and DJ Anjali on the decks with Blossom Drearie and Chiffon Chérie taking additional shifts. Not every tea party sticks to the convention of snacks, but this girl did with small batch desi pastries from Chaiwallah PDX. (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison, 7 pm, holocene.org, 21+) SS
August 1-3
Queer Screams Film Festival
Arts & Culture
Suppose somebody wanders up to you and says, “Hey! What scares you?!” If you can see yourself responding, “The heteronormativity embedded in the fabric of Hollywood filmmaking,” then perhaps consider shrieking alongside others at this year’s Queer Screams Film Festival. The annual fest will curate LGBTQ+ horror shorts, screenings of scream-heavy classics (Bride of Chucky and Seed of Chucky this year), and a chat with Chucky franchise creator Don Mancini. Post up across the street at Dots for a horror-themed afterparty, too. (Clinton Street Theater, 2522 SE Clinton, Fri Aug 1-Sun Aug 3, cstpdx.com, all ages) LC
above and more. Fuel up with
specials from Mis Tacones before DJs Father Fannie and Espina Letal start holding
