Cerebral silence
Emerging from the din
Finally free from the
Depths of my fragmented
Thoughts
The mad rush, sweet
Hectic confusion,
Full and all at once
Empty.
Free from the chains of
Neurons and myelin,
The gossamer threads of
Sanity weave into
My subconscious.
When will permanence
And solidarity reign?
Flighty whim and
Avarice are at play,
But I do not
Invite them in.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Overstimulated and Under-Appreciated
I think loneliness is something that afflicts all of us, at some time or another, and it's especially acute in winter, around the holidays. It's that cheesy time of year when we're supposed to stuff our faces full of food and acknowledge how grateful we are for family and friends, which can be harder than it sounds. Thanksgiving was yesterday, and I kept reading articles that talked about the 'loneliness' of the holidays and how helplines are more busy.
I cannot claim that I understand human psychology at an intense level, but I know a thing or two about my own experience, and at a time of year when the weather is bleaker and there are high expectations of 'togetherness' and family, being lonely can feel like a curse.
There is also the strange factor of social media, which connects us to all of our friends, coworkers, acquaintances, and random strangers we met once at a party and added on our smartphones, surrounding us with methods of communication. As I sit here on my computer, however, with Skype open, my phone sitting silently, a Facebook tab on my browser, and somewhat quiet Tumblr and Twitter accounts, I don't feel any more likely to have a meaningful conversation. In fact, it seems that the only thing my internet presence has accomplished is to make me feel less able to truly connect with someone, and more alone when no one messages me over any forum.
Plus I'm blogging, which can seem kind of like a plea for attention from anonymous and friendly readers, when looked at very basely.
I don't mean to dis social media, or the internet, because you can obviously create really interesting and close friendships online, as well as rediscover old friends with whom you'd lost touch, but it's a weird tool when it comes to the feeling of being alone.
It's somewhat like being in a huge city, I guess. I read an article on BBC news that suggests while a majority of Londoners have someone to call and connect with, 27% feel alone or lonely, and I think it's because being surrounded by people who have no idea who you are can feel very isolating. It's similar with social media, except we are supposed to be surrounded by people who know who you are and care about what you think and feel, but the pace of information and lack of tone available in 140 characters or less acts as a kind of barrier from truly realising how someone feels.
There is also stigma associated with posting 'vaguebook' statuses that imply that you are either lonely or upset about something, but the reason why people write those sorts of things online is because they probably don't want to have to inform their friends that they are upset, but want them to notice and care. It's kind of a negative feedback loop. It can be very, very difficult to ask people individually to care about your specific problems, and there's a dangerous myth floating around that friends have a mysterious sixth sense and can always tell when you're upset. When they don't, people get more upset because it makes them feel like their friends don't notice, but they forget that social media is not the same thing as calling or asking someone in person if they will listen to you talk at them for a bit.
I don't think we should punish the people who want attention, because if we didn't all want attention, social media would not exist. Instead, we should remind them, and remind ourselves, that there is no replacement for spending time with people face-to-face, and no, video-chatting doesn't count.
This loneliness can also be a symptom of depression, isolation, or neglect, and thus stigmatising an attempt at connection could potentially be harmful. Perhaps this time of year, when many face the challenge of either being alone or separated from their families, for whatever reason, be it physical or emotional distance (and constantly reminded by the media how close and happy they should be) is the time of year to ask your friends how they're feeling, and not take 'fine' for an answer.
Reach out. It's rewarding! You can make new friends, rekindle old friendships, and maybe, just maybe, feel a little less grumpy about the fact that the notification globe's red flag is always for those group notifications you forgot to unsubscribe from.
And to all of my friends who read this, know that I will always listen, chat, doodle, write letters, make jokes, and catch up, regardless of how long it's been since we last made any form of intelligible communication. All you have to do is just let me know.
I cannot claim that I understand human psychology at an intense level, but I know a thing or two about my own experience, and at a time of year when the weather is bleaker and there are high expectations of 'togetherness' and family, being lonely can feel like a curse.
There is also the strange factor of social media, which connects us to all of our friends, coworkers, acquaintances, and random strangers we met once at a party and added on our smartphones, surrounding us with methods of communication. As I sit here on my computer, however, with Skype open, my phone sitting silently, a Facebook tab on my browser, and somewhat quiet Tumblr and Twitter accounts, I don't feel any more likely to have a meaningful conversation. In fact, it seems that the only thing my internet presence has accomplished is to make me feel less able to truly connect with someone, and more alone when no one messages me over any forum.
Plus I'm blogging, which can seem kind of like a plea for attention from anonymous and friendly readers, when looked at very basely.
I don't mean to dis social media, or the internet, because you can obviously create really interesting and close friendships online, as well as rediscover old friends with whom you'd lost touch, but it's a weird tool when it comes to the feeling of being alone.
It's somewhat like being in a huge city, I guess. I read an article on BBC news that suggests while a majority of Londoners have someone to call and connect with, 27% feel alone or lonely, and I think it's because being surrounded by people who have no idea who you are can feel very isolating. It's similar with social media, except we are supposed to be surrounded by people who know who you are and care about what you think and feel, but the pace of information and lack of tone available in 140 characters or less acts as a kind of barrier from truly realising how someone feels.
There is also stigma associated with posting 'vaguebook' statuses that imply that you are either lonely or upset about something, but the reason why people write those sorts of things online is because they probably don't want to have to inform their friends that they are upset, but want them to notice and care. It's kind of a negative feedback loop. It can be very, very difficult to ask people individually to care about your specific problems, and there's a dangerous myth floating around that friends have a mysterious sixth sense and can always tell when you're upset. When they don't, people get more upset because it makes them feel like their friends don't notice, but they forget that social media is not the same thing as calling or asking someone in person if they will listen to you talk at them for a bit.
I don't think we should punish the people who want attention, because if we didn't all want attention, social media would not exist. Instead, we should remind them, and remind ourselves, that there is no replacement for spending time with people face-to-face, and no, video-chatting doesn't count.
This loneliness can also be a symptom of depression, isolation, or neglect, and thus stigmatising an attempt at connection could potentially be harmful. Perhaps this time of year, when many face the challenge of either being alone or separated from their families, for whatever reason, be it physical or emotional distance (and constantly reminded by the media how close and happy they should be) is the time of year to ask your friends how they're feeling, and not take 'fine' for an answer.
Reach out. It's rewarding! You can make new friends, rekindle old friendships, and maybe, just maybe, feel a little less grumpy about the fact that the notification globe's red flag is always for those group notifications you forgot to unsubscribe from.
And to all of my friends who read this, know that I will always listen, chat, doodle, write letters, make jokes, and catch up, regardless of how long it's been since we last made any form of intelligible communication. All you have to do is just let me know.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Am I Butch?
It turns out wikiHow has a seven-step guide on how to be a butch lesbian. So I thought I'd see what it was all about. I also have decided to be unrelenting snarky about a how-to guide for being butch.
How to be a Butch Lesbian
Have you ever felt that you were a Butch Lesbian? Butches can be very attractive, handy, and even sweet. The challenge is balancing the style so it looks good.
Step One: Ask yourself a few questions.
Well, first off, why does a wikiHow for being butch exist? That will puzzle me for DAYS. Enough procrastination. I will now answer the questions.
Why do you want to be butch?
I look so amazing in dresses that women everywhere would immediately become lesbian, leaving the world's men lonely and the birth rate zero, so I think it's my social responsibility to tone my appearance down to charmingly handsome.
Do you feel attractive and natural in this look?
Well, you haven't explained what "this" look is, but sure, I feel like I'm naturally attractive, handy, and sweet. And considering in the past 24 hours I've been in flannel, a cut-off t-shirt, jeans, a men's dress shirt, and a tie, I guess it's my natural state.
...Or is this just a cheap scheme to get women's attention?
If I could just take a moment to wonder why this would be a stunningly important issue? Also ouch. And judgement is just reeking from that statement in waves. To answer, however, I would say no, not in the slightest. I am butch because of the way I dress. I attract women because of my personality, I hope, and I'd like to think that getting the attention of women is a much more complex equation than simply being masculine and a lady.
Can you handle people knowing about your sexuality?
I think the bigger question is can they handle knowing about my sexuality, but yes. I enjoy being visible because it allows me to find out who I'd rather not spend time with, and also who I can at least feel accepted by.
How will others react?
Well, women will apparently be giving me more attention, since it was a cheap scheme to get it in the first place. Honestly, though, most people just appreciate how comfortable I am with being a walking lesbian stereotype. (I'm sitting here in flannel and men's jeans. I also have my freshly done alternative lifestyle haircut, short fingernails, no makeup, and sized ears.)
Step Two: Develop more masculine mannerisms.
Are we conflating being a butch with being a man? I hope not.
Walk with more confidence and stride.
Apparently only masculine people are confident. Note to self: I must become more masculine, my confidence could use a boost. Second- walk with more stride? So just take bigger steps? Must be all that masculine confidence; it needs more space to fully take effect.
Don't slouch or sit with your legs together.
Shit. I'm slouching right now. -5 on my Butch report card, I'm sure. My legs aren't together, though, so at least I'm not a total failure. Oh. I just readjusted to get more comfortable, and now not only are my legs together, they're crossed. Also I had no idea femmes were all slouching all the time. Must be that lowered self-confidence that comes with being feminine.
Watch the way men move and move like them. Try to only copy more of the popular guys, when observing them think, is this guy cool?
This nicely demonstrates how important a correctly placed comma can be to the meaning of a sentence. I apparently should be observing popular guys thinking in the third person about their own coolness, rather than thinking 'Is this guy cool?' when observing popular guys as an outsider. A lesbian spy, if you will.
If there's one thing I've learned in my years of being butch it is that popularity and 'cool' factor are nothing to emulate. You could end up going to frat parties and demanding women dump water on their white shirts while drinking terrible beer.
Does he seem attractive to girls? If yes, he is a good example since you do not want to move awkwardly.
But staring at a guy and memorizing his mannerisms and physicality is totally normal, healthy behavior, right? Also, he probably seems attractive to straight girls, and we all know that straight girls are exactly the same in their tastes as lesbians, which is why they date men.
Step Three: Get some masculine clothing.
Done. So there, yesterday. Or maybe a couple of years ago. It's hard to trace the beginnings of my descent into butchism. (I originally put 'butchery' and then tried to make a cleavage pun, but butchism has that nice belief-system connotation.)
You can buy men's clothing, or, buy women's clothing that is boyish.
Check. My undergarments are 'boyish' women's clothing. Everything else basically comes from the men's section. The snarky comment for this section will be 'You could also buy whatever clothing you want in whatever style you want and feel butch because it is your identity rather than your fashion, but that may be too progressive.'
Some good things to get: A few polo shirts. Tshirts with cool designs on them. Try not go with big logos or dorky souvenir shirts. Loose-fitting jeans. Not too baggy, not to loose. You can go with men's jeans or women's boy-cut jeans since those are made for a female frame. Dress clothes. Pants suits, shirts with ties and nice shoes are great for special occasions. Do learn to tie a tie, as clip ons are tacky. Accessories. Get a few belts and a nice watch (go for a neutral color). A chain to wear around your neck can look handsome. Shoes. You really only need 3 pairs: comfy shoes, dress shoes and boots. Binder. Some butches dislike having large breasts and may wish to bind them down. Boxers- no butch should wear girly undies. Go for comfort. Plaid, solid or simple patterns are best. For the most part, you will be the only one that sees them; keep in mind that your girlfriend will see them so they need to look good. Messenger bag or backpack. Purses are to be avoided.
I figured I would take this all in at once, though now I'm just overwhelmed. I own no polo shirts, and none of my current tshirts have designs. My jeans, while loose compared to jeggings, are slim-fit or skinny (all men's). I have no pants suits. I have suits. I also wear shirts with ties and THANK YOU, CLIP-ONS ARE AWFUL. Part of the fun of a tie is being able to retie the knot to suit the shirt collar and your jawline. I have a few belts, and a nice watch I never wear. No neck chain, either, regardless of how handsome being forever in the 90s may make me.
...
Sorry, I was momentarily stunned by how depressing it would be to have only three pairs of shoes. And how impractical. Gym shoes, casual shoes, at least two pairs of dress shoes- black and brown, and boots would be the minimum. Granted, that's only five pairs, but come on. I have at least 15 pairs of shoes, and they all make different statements when paired with different outfits. I guess if all of ones' dress clothes were in complementary colors and you either had rejected the idea of gyms or ever wearing any shoes besides your dress shoes in public, then three pairs could work. But...just... sad.
See, and everyone thought Romney was wrong to say he kept women in binders. Clearly they were all just large breasted butch lesbians. Binders full of women, indeed. Strong, well-endowed lesbians with a penchant for smooth profiles.
I also don't wear boxers. I wear the least girly women's underwear I've ever seen. Contrast waistband, boxer-brief style panelling, but no keyhole and no 'extra space', as it were. I think there should be no hard and fast rules about what butches should and shouldn't be doing, especially since I would never let someone see my underwear if they thought all people who identify a certain way had to dress a certain way to match.
I see 'purses are to be avoided' and just think of thousands of butch lesbians running hurriedly away from coach stores and women carrying purses as they try to hold on to their much less scary backpacks and messenger bags.
Step Four: Skip the makeup
Okay, next step. Oh wait, no...
Concealer for blemishes and pimples is fine. Eyeliner is okay in small amounts and also make absolutely sure that you always brush your teeth.
Okay, so basically natural, that's cool. And eyeliner says rockstar, and we know all butch lesbians are rockstars. Coincidentally, the only wild butches ever seen by the straight community have been k.d.lang and Melissa Etheridge. We're not sure what they think about Ellen, though. She may have tricked them.
Wait. What? I must have skipped a step in the Butch handbook. We have to brush our teeth? Here I was, thinking that was just basic hygiene and maintenance, but no, it's butch! Tell that to all those lipstick femmes. On second thought, please don't. I'd like them to continue brushing their teeth as if it's a normal behavior for everyone.
Step five: Get a short hair cut.
You can't be butch and have long hair. That breaks the rules! When my hair was shoulder length my butch card got revoked until I cut it again. It was a hard time for me.
Look at both women and men for inspiration. To find a look that will look good on you, ask the hair dresser what will match your face shape.
What if they say long layers? Should you turn to them and declare, "I AM A BUTCH. SHORT HAIR ONLY!"?
At least now we get to look at women! It's finally something I have experience doing.
Step six: Be active.
Like sexually? Or mentally? I mean, I feel like we've gone over appearance, right?
Try to get into a sport or just work out.
Sorry, I don't have the shoes for that. Also, I don't know why you have to work out or play sports to be butch.
Be proud of your body and its strengths.
Finally something I agree with.
Looking attractive and gaining muscle can also be a benefit.
And now I don't agree with it anymore. Okay, so I should be proud of my body, but I will only look attractive if I'm working out or playing sports? Great. That makes sense. I should definitely subscribe to the belief that working out will make me more attractive, because obviously if I was proud of my body it would be better if I tried to change it instead. 'In-shape' does not equal 'looking attractive'. Less looks based judgement would be nice.
Step Seven: Act the part.
Fake it 'til you make it!
Be confident and masculine.
Why not be your version of feminine? Most butch lesbians are, in fact, females.
Be chivalrous and gentleman-like.
Let me reinforce the patriarchy for you lovely ladies. I'm sure just being polite would not be enough.
Try your best to stay calm and in control of your emotions in public.
I knew throwing temper-tantrums wasn't working, but I couldn't figure out why. Not butch enough! I think this is suggesting, however, that feminine lesbians are not calm and able to control their emotions, and I think that's kind of pathetic. Most people try to stay calm and in control of their emotions in public. Feminine DOES NOT equal 'hormonal', nor does masculine equal 'emotionless'.
Confidence is key, so be sure to take charge and be assertive.
Does that mean I'm not butch because I'm laid-back? Perhaps I should be more controlling. Clearly that's what being masculine is all about.
Most of all, be yourself.
So what you're saying is that even though I should change what I wear, how I act, what I think, and how I recreate, I should stay the same. Sounds totally reasonable.
That being said, yes. That is really the only step necessary at all. Truth be told, it's hard to find the lesbian community, and also hard to determine what to wear and how to act, but I think we are far better served by creating our own paths than trying to pick a label and conform to it. If you truly want to be butch, you probably also know what you want yourself to look like, act like, etc. Just embrace that.
How to be a Butch Lesbian
Have you ever felt that you were a Butch Lesbian? Butches can be very attractive, handy, and even sweet. The challenge is balancing the style so it looks good.
Step One: Ask yourself a few questions.
Well, first off, why does a wikiHow for being butch exist? That will puzzle me for DAYS. Enough procrastination. I will now answer the questions.
Why do you want to be butch?
I look so amazing in dresses that women everywhere would immediately become lesbian, leaving the world's men lonely and the birth rate zero, so I think it's my social responsibility to tone my appearance down to charmingly handsome.
Do you feel attractive and natural in this look?
Well, you haven't explained what "this" look is, but sure, I feel like I'm naturally attractive, handy, and sweet. And considering in the past 24 hours I've been in flannel, a cut-off t-shirt, jeans, a men's dress shirt, and a tie, I guess it's my natural state.
...Or is this just a cheap scheme to get women's attention?
If I could just take a moment to wonder why this would be a stunningly important issue? Also ouch. And judgement is just reeking from that statement in waves. To answer, however, I would say no, not in the slightest. I am butch because of the way I dress. I attract women because of my personality, I hope, and I'd like to think that getting the attention of women is a much more complex equation than simply being masculine and a lady.
Can you handle people knowing about your sexuality?
I think the bigger question is can they handle knowing about my sexuality, but yes. I enjoy being visible because it allows me to find out who I'd rather not spend time with, and also who I can at least feel accepted by.
How will others react?
Well, women will apparently be giving me more attention, since it was a cheap scheme to get it in the first place. Honestly, though, most people just appreciate how comfortable I am with being a walking lesbian stereotype. (I'm sitting here in flannel and men's jeans. I also have my freshly done alternative lifestyle haircut, short fingernails, no makeup, and sized ears.)
Step Two: Develop more masculine mannerisms.
Are we conflating being a butch with being a man? I hope not.
Walk with more confidence and stride.
Apparently only masculine people are confident. Note to self: I must become more masculine, my confidence could use a boost. Second- walk with more stride? So just take bigger steps? Must be all that masculine confidence; it needs more space to fully take effect.
Don't slouch or sit with your legs together.
Shit. I'm slouching right now. -5 on my Butch report card, I'm sure. My legs aren't together, though, so at least I'm not a total failure. Oh. I just readjusted to get more comfortable, and now not only are my legs together, they're crossed. Also I had no idea femmes were all slouching all the time. Must be that lowered self-confidence that comes with being feminine.
Watch the way men move and move like them. Try to only copy more of the popular guys, when observing them think, is this guy cool?
This nicely demonstrates how important a correctly placed comma can be to the meaning of a sentence. I apparently should be observing popular guys thinking in the third person about their own coolness, rather than thinking 'Is this guy cool?' when observing popular guys as an outsider. A lesbian spy, if you will.
If there's one thing I've learned in my years of being butch it is that popularity and 'cool' factor are nothing to emulate. You could end up going to frat parties and demanding women dump water on their white shirts while drinking terrible beer.
Does he seem attractive to girls? If yes, he is a good example since you do not want to move awkwardly.
But staring at a guy and memorizing his mannerisms and physicality is totally normal, healthy behavior, right? Also, he probably seems attractive to straight girls, and we all know that straight girls are exactly the same in their tastes as lesbians, which is why they date men.
Step Three: Get some masculine clothing.
Done. So there, yesterday. Or maybe a couple of years ago. It's hard to trace the beginnings of my descent into butchism. (I originally put 'butchery' and then tried to make a cleavage pun, but butchism has that nice belief-system connotation.)
You can buy men's clothing, or, buy women's clothing that is boyish.
Check. My undergarments are 'boyish' women's clothing. Everything else basically comes from the men's section. The snarky comment for this section will be 'You could also buy whatever clothing you want in whatever style you want and feel butch because it is your identity rather than your fashion, but that may be too progressive.'
Some good things to get: A few polo shirts. Tshirts with cool designs on them. Try not go with big logos or dorky souvenir shirts. Loose-fitting jeans. Not too baggy, not to loose. You can go with men's jeans or women's boy-cut jeans since those are made for a female frame. Dress clothes. Pants suits, shirts with ties and nice shoes are great for special occasions. Do learn to tie a tie, as clip ons are tacky. Accessories. Get a few belts and a nice watch (go for a neutral color). A chain to wear around your neck can look handsome. Shoes. You really only need 3 pairs: comfy shoes, dress shoes and boots. Binder. Some butches dislike having large breasts and may wish to bind them down. Boxers- no butch should wear girly undies. Go for comfort. Plaid, solid or simple patterns are best. For the most part, you will be the only one that sees them; keep in mind that your girlfriend will see them so they need to look good. Messenger bag or backpack. Purses are to be avoided.
I figured I would take this all in at once, though now I'm just overwhelmed. I own no polo shirts, and none of my current tshirts have designs. My jeans, while loose compared to jeggings, are slim-fit or skinny (all men's). I have no pants suits. I have suits. I also wear shirts with ties and THANK YOU, CLIP-ONS ARE AWFUL. Part of the fun of a tie is being able to retie the knot to suit the shirt collar and your jawline. I have a few belts, and a nice watch I never wear. No neck chain, either, regardless of how handsome being forever in the 90s may make me.
...
Sorry, I was momentarily stunned by how depressing it would be to have only three pairs of shoes. And how impractical. Gym shoes, casual shoes, at least two pairs of dress shoes- black and brown, and boots would be the minimum. Granted, that's only five pairs, but come on. I have at least 15 pairs of shoes, and they all make different statements when paired with different outfits. I guess if all of ones' dress clothes were in complementary colors and you either had rejected the idea of gyms or ever wearing any shoes besides your dress shoes in public, then three pairs could work. But...just... sad.
See, and everyone thought Romney was wrong to say he kept women in binders. Clearly they were all just large breasted butch lesbians. Binders full of women, indeed. Strong, well-endowed lesbians with a penchant for smooth profiles.
I also don't wear boxers. I wear the least girly women's underwear I've ever seen. Contrast waistband, boxer-brief style panelling, but no keyhole and no 'extra space', as it were. I think there should be no hard and fast rules about what butches should and shouldn't be doing, especially since I would never let someone see my underwear if they thought all people who identify a certain way had to dress a certain way to match.
I see 'purses are to be avoided' and just think of thousands of butch lesbians running hurriedly away from coach stores and women carrying purses as they try to hold on to their much less scary backpacks and messenger bags.
Step Four: Skip the makeup
Okay, next step. Oh wait, no...
Concealer for blemishes and pimples is fine. Eyeliner is okay in small amounts and also make absolutely sure that you always brush your teeth.
Okay, so basically natural, that's cool. And eyeliner says rockstar, and we know all butch lesbians are rockstars. Coincidentally, the only wild butches ever seen by the straight community have been k.d.lang and Melissa Etheridge. We're not sure what they think about Ellen, though. She may have tricked them.
Wait. What? I must have skipped a step in the Butch handbook. We have to brush our teeth? Here I was, thinking that was just basic hygiene and maintenance, but no, it's butch! Tell that to all those lipstick femmes. On second thought, please don't. I'd like them to continue brushing their teeth as if it's a normal behavior for everyone.
Step five: Get a short hair cut.
You can't be butch and have long hair. That breaks the rules! When my hair was shoulder length my butch card got revoked until I cut it again. It was a hard time for me.
Look at both women and men for inspiration. To find a look that will look good on you, ask the hair dresser what will match your face shape.
What if they say long layers? Should you turn to them and declare, "I AM A BUTCH. SHORT HAIR ONLY!"?
At least now we get to look at women! It's finally something I have experience doing.
Step six: Be active.
Like sexually? Or mentally? I mean, I feel like we've gone over appearance, right?
Try to get into a sport or just work out.
Sorry, I don't have the shoes for that. Also, I don't know why you have to work out or play sports to be butch.
Be proud of your body and its strengths.
Finally something I agree with.
Looking attractive and gaining muscle can also be a benefit.
And now I don't agree with it anymore. Okay, so I should be proud of my body, but I will only look attractive if I'm working out or playing sports? Great. That makes sense. I should definitely subscribe to the belief that working out will make me more attractive, because obviously if I was proud of my body it would be better if I tried to change it instead. 'In-shape' does not equal 'looking attractive'. Less looks based judgement would be nice.
Step Seven: Act the part.
Fake it 'til you make it!
Be confident and masculine.
Why not be your version of feminine? Most butch lesbians are, in fact, females.
Be chivalrous and gentleman-like.
Let me reinforce the patriarchy for you lovely ladies. I'm sure just being polite would not be enough.
Try your best to stay calm and in control of your emotions in public.
I knew throwing temper-tantrums wasn't working, but I couldn't figure out why. Not butch enough! I think this is suggesting, however, that feminine lesbians are not calm and able to control their emotions, and I think that's kind of pathetic. Most people try to stay calm and in control of their emotions in public. Feminine DOES NOT equal 'hormonal', nor does masculine equal 'emotionless'.
Confidence is key, so be sure to take charge and be assertive.
Does that mean I'm not butch because I'm laid-back? Perhaps I should be more controlling. Clearly that's what being masculine is all about.
Most of all, be yourself.
So what you're saying is that even though I should change what I wear, how I act, what I think, and how I recreate, I should stay the same. Sounds totally reasonable.
That being said, yes. That is really the only step necessary at all. Truth be told, it's hard to find the lesbian community, and also hard to determine what to wear and how to act, but I think we are far better served by creating our own paths than trying to pick a label and conform to it. If you truly want to be butch, you probably also know what you want yourself to look like, act like, etc. Just embrace that.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
This is a confession...
So here it goes. I'm about to admit something that perhaps a few of you have picked up on (or have not, because for various reasons I don't always show it openly), and that is, of course, that I adore men's fashion.
Now, I can't say that I find this an easy burden to bear, because there's a lot of weird grey area in identity and fashion, but what I will say is that I think dressing well (at any size, shape, gender, identity) is charming.
I have to apologize for my love of designer clothing, because I think in most ways fashion is very isolating and exclusionist, but there are ways to circumvent the 'authority' of image and still remain fashionable. I'm also a student, so as much as I may love the way a certain fabric feels or certain shoes look, I'm interested in the ways in which bargains can be had. Obviously at a point some people can identify labels (and I mean clothing labels), but thrifting and unlabeled items confuse, as long as the item fits well and looks good.
Outlets and sales are also some of my dearest friends, and while I try to avoid wearing too much clothing which originates from unsavory origins, sometimes the "affordable" fashion stores lure me in. I implied I was somewhat ashamed of this fashion problem, yes?
I think also for women who are more on the masculine spectrum of displayed dress, there are a lot of challenges inherent in being fashionably clothed. Clothing designed for male bodies really doesn't fit most women well off-the-rack, and tailoring is quite pricy (though scoring a piece through thrifting for $5 or £3 and then having it fitted for $25 or £15 is generally still fairly cheap).
There are also fewer rules, guides, and icons to emulate and adapt from. There is also more judgement and less help available from shopkeepers and tailors who may be uncomfortable dealing with female clientele in the 'men's' section.
The last time I purchased a men's dress shirt, the lady assisting me asked if I was buying the shirt for work as a waitress. I didn't really feel up to explaining that I just like wearing men's clothing, because she wasn't being judgmental, but the assumptions can be off-putting. It was probably also because it was a plain white shirt that I specified as having a spread collar and French cuffs, though I ended up getting single button notch cuffs because I found a slimmer fit with that style. Compromises. Also I feel like I've rarely seen wait-staff wearing French cuffs, though I haven't been dining at exceptionally formal restaurants lately (see: student). I digress. The point I'm trying to make is that it can be hard to want to go out shopping as a butch (ish) identified lesbian because of the frequent questions and general lack of understanding.
I don't know if perhaps it's at all worth it, but I enjoy dressing well and receiving compliments on my outfits, shoes, and style, judgment be damned.
After all, closets are for clothes. Stylish, fabulous clothes.
Perhaps if the mood takes me I will include some of my favorite outfits and the budget required to achieve them (hint: not much).
Now, I can't say that I find this an easy burden to bear, because there's a lot of weird grey area in identity and fashion, but what I will say is that I think dressing well (at any size, shape, gender, identity) is charming.
I have to apologize for my love of designer clothing, because I think in most ways fashion is very isolating and exclusionist, but there are ways to circumvent the 'authority' of image and still remain fashionable. I'm also a student, so as much as I may love the way a certain fabric feels or certain shoes look, I'm interested in the ways in which bargains can be had. Obviously at a point some people can identify labels (and I mean clothing labels), but thrifting and unlabeled items confuse, as long as the item fits well and looks good.
Outlets and sales are also some of my dearest friends, and while I try to avoid wearing too much clothing which originates from unsavory origins, sometimes the "affordable" fashion stores lure me in. I implied I was somewhat ashamed of this fashion problem, yes?
I think also for women who are more on the masculine spectrum of displayed dress, there are a lot of challenges inherent in being fashionably clothed. Clothing designed for male bodies really doesn't fit most women well off-the-rack, and tailoring is quite pricy (though scoring a piece through thrifting for $5 or £3 and then having it fitted for $25 or £15 is generally still fairly cheap).
There are also fewer rules, guides, and icons to emulate and adapt from. There is also more judgement and less help available from shopkeepers and tailors who may be uncomfortable dealing with female clientele in the 'men's' section.
The last time I purchased a men's dress shirt, the lady assisting me asked if I was buying the shirt for work as a waitress. I didn't really feel up to explaining that I just like wearing men's clothing, because she wasn't being judgmental, but the assumptions can be off-putting. It was probably also because it was a plain white shirt that I specified as having a spread collar and French cuffs, though I ended up getting single button notch cuffs because I found a slimmer fit with that style. Compromises. Also I feel like I've rarely seen wait-staff wearing French cuffs, though I haven't been dining at exceptionally formal restaurants lately (see: student). I digress. The point I'm trying to make is that it can be hard to want to go out shopping as a butch (ish) identified lesbian because of the frequent questions and general lack of understanding.
I don't know if perhaps it's at all worth it, but I enjoy dressing well and receiving compliments on my outfits, shoes, and style, judgment be damned.
After all, closets are for clothes. Stylish, fabulous clothes.
Perhaps if the mood takes me I will include some of my favorite outfits and the budget required to achieve them (hint: not much).
Friday, October 26, 2012
An Open Letter to my (Republican) Father
I will start by saying that I do not believe in political coercion. I know there will always be people who do not have the same politics as I do, but I can't continue pretending that this issue doesn't matter to me.
Dad,
I love you, and I respect your right to your own political beliefs. I get that you are, for the most part, a fiscal conservative and socially liberal, and I think that is fine. I even agree with you on some things, though admittedly most political policies are not those things. The problem that I have is that I am a lesbian. A young lesbian woman with a long, hopefully happy life in front of her, which you have graciously and willingly provided.
Let me tell you a few things about the candidate I'm pretty sure you're voting for. Perhaps you know these things already, but I think it can be easy to write off his conservatism because he was governor of Massachusetts.
He doesn't think employers should be held accountable for firing me solely on the basis of my sexuality, which I would hope you find a little uncomfortable, since you'd like me to have a job and support myself. When he was governor of the "liberal gay paradise", Massachusetts, he supported an amendment to their constitution that would ban gay marriage, which deeply troubles me. He also supported the Federal Marriage amendment, which would have defined marriage federally as between one man and one woman.
Now, I don't frequently discuss such things with you, but I'd like to get married one day. I know I don't seem like that type of little girl, prancing around, imagining her perfect wedding, but considering my options right now, I can only imagine moving abroad or having a destination wedding. If Romney were in charge of the LGBT issues (and you would like him to have at least four years to change my life), perhaps my only option would be to reside in a foreign country, so that I would know my partner could visit me in the hospital, I could be covered under her insurance (because let's face it, I want a career in the arts, the only way I could afford health insurance would be if she had it), and I could easily start a family, knowing even if she is the biological mother, I would still have the same access to my children in the case of her death, or the dissolution of our marriage. Domestic partnership isn't the same. I hope you wouldn't try to tell me that.
Speaking of children, if I were to have any, I'd be lucky to be able to adopt or even have my name put on my child's birth certificate, if my partner was the biological parent, because Romney doesn't think gay people make suitable parents. Could you imagine not being able to legally acknowledge me as your child? Perhaps right now you'd like to, but in all seriousness, in a critical situation, or even a less than critical situation, it's necessary to have the legal documentation of parenthood.
Really, what this all comes down to is that Romney doesn't see me as a human being. To him, I must be something less, because I wouldn't be legally equal to you, to Mom, or to any heterosexual. Ryan is much of the same, if not worse. The ticket is blatant in its homophobia.
Honestly, I try not to think this way, but it seems like by voting for Romney you're telling me my relationships will never mean as much as yours, that I shouldn't have children, and that I don't deserve protection from discrimination.
You will bring up that there are other issues worth considering, like the GDP and revenues, simplifying the tax code, domestic and foreign policy.
This is why I wonder. Shouldn't your family be more important to you? If I had a chance to possibly (note that this is not a sure thing) change the country's economy for the better, but it came at the cost of your, as a person, right to vote, surely you would expect me to value your civil liberties more? Yes, four years can change a lot about the economy, but it can change an awful lot more about the way I could be allowed to lead my life. Two Supreme Court justices are probably going to change, soon, and it so happens that the Prop. 8 case, which you proudly informed me you voted no on, will be heard soon. Imagine two conservative justices then deciding that my future marriage was unconstitutional. That's not unlikely, it's frightening.
The reason that the legal discrimination against homosexuality continues is at least in some part due to the fact that people like you do not consider it a 'voting' issue. Yes, you aren't against gay marriage, but if a candidate says that they are, it doesn't affect you enough to change your vote.
Shouldn't it, though? It does affect you, directly. I am your child. Voting for someone who would gladly relegate me to second class citizenship is something I can no longer brush aside. You could send a message to your party that they are on the wrong side of this issue. You don't have to vote Democrat. Just don't vote for a party whose platform includes this. It sickens me, and it should sicken you.
I hope you also know that I do not intend to inflict guilt. I merely have been reflecting on this troubling issue for a long time, and it truly bothers me that you cannot see how important this is.
With the added knowledge that as a resident of California, your vote for Romney is hardly counted anyway, why vote for someone, and someone's party, who would try so hard to take away so much from me?
Change is one person at a time.
I love you,
Your (more than just a lesbian) daughter.
Dad,
I love you, and I respect your right to your own political beliefs. I get that you are, for the most part, a fiscal conservative and socially liberal, and I think that is fine. I even agree with you on some things, though admittedly most political policies are not those things. The problem that I have is that I am a lesbian. A young lesbian woman with a long, hopefully happy life in front of her, which you have graciously and willingly provided.
Let me tell you a few things about the candidate I'm pretty sure you're voting for. Perhaps you know these things already, but I think it can be easy to write off his conservatism because he was governor of Massachusetts.
He doesn't think employers should be held accountable for firing me solely on the basis of my sexuality, which I would hope you find a little uncomfortable, since you'd like me to have a job and support myself. When he was governor of the "liberal gay paradise", Massachusetts, he supported an amendment to their constitution that would ban gay marriage, which deeply troubles me. He also supported the Federal Marriage amendment, which would have defined marriage federally as between one man and one woman.
Now, I don't frequently discuss such things with you, but I'd like to get married one day. I know I don't seem like that type of little girl, prancing around, imagining her perfect wedding, but considering my options right now, I can only imagine moving abroad or having a destination wedding. If Romney were in charge of the LGBT issues (and you would like him to have at least four years to change my life), perhaps my only option would be to reside in a foreign country, so that I would know my partner could visit me in the hospital, I could be covered under her insurance (because let's face it, I want a career in the arts, the only way I could afford health insurance would be if she had it), and I could easily start a family, knowing even if she is the biological mother, I would still have the same access to my children in the case of her death, or the dissolution of our marriage. Domestic partnership isn't the same. I hope you wouldn't try to tell me that.
Speaking of children, if I were to have any, I'd be lucky to be able to adopt or even have my name put on my child's birth certificate, if my partner was the biological parent, because Romney doesn't think gay people make suitable parents. Could you imagine not being able to legally acknowledge me as your child? Perhaps right now you'd like to, but in all seriousness, in a critical situation, or even a less than critical situation, it's necessary to have the legal documentation of parenthood.
Really, what this all comes down to is that Romney doesn't see me as a human being. To him, I must be something less, because I wouldn't be legally equal to you, to Mom, or to any heterosexual. Ryan is much of the same, if not worse. The ticket is blatant in its homophobia.
Honestly, I try not to think this way, but it seems like by voting for Romney you're telling me my relationships will never mean as much as yours, that I shouldn't have children, and that I don't deserve protection from discrimination.
You will bring up that there are other issues worth considering, like the GDP and revenues, simplifying the tax code, domestic and foreign policy.
This is why I wonder. Shouldn't your family be more important to you? If I had a chance to possibly (note that this is not a sure thing) change the country's economy for the better, but it came at the cost of your, as a person, right to vote, surely you would expect me to value your civil liberties more? Yes, four years can change a lot about the economy, but it can change an awful lot more about the way I could be allowed to lead my life. Two Supreme Court justices are probably going to change, soon, and it so happens that the Prop. 8 case, which you proudly informed me you voted no on, will be heard soon. Imagine two conservative justices then deciding that my future marriage was unconstitutional. That's not unlikely, it's frightening.
The reason that the legal discrimination against homosexuality continues is at least in some part due to the fact that people like you do not consider it a 'voting' issue. Yes, you aren't against gay marriage, but if a candidate says that they are, it doesn't affect you enough to change your vote.
Shouldn't it, though? It does affect you, directly. I am your child. Voting for someone who would gladly relegate me to second class citizenship is something I can no longer brush aside. You could send a message to your party that they are on the wrong side of this issue. You don't have to vote Democrat. Just don't vote for a party whose platform includes this. It sickens me, and it should sicken you.
Preserving and Protecting Traditional Marriage (Top)
The institution of marriage is the foundation of civil society. Its success as an institution will determine our success as a nation. It has been proven by both experience and endless social science studies that traditional marriage is best for children. Children raised in intact married families are more likely to attend college, are physically and emotionally healthier, are less likely to use drugs or alcohol, engage in crime, or get pregnant outside of marriage. The success of marriage directly impacts the economic well-being of individuals. Furthermore, the future of marriage affects freedom. The lack of family formation not only leads to more government costs, but also to more government control over the lives of its citizens in all aspects. We recognize and honor the courageous efforts of those who bear the many burdens of parenting alone, even as we believe that marriage, the union of one man and one woman must be upheld as the national standard, a goal to stand for, encourage, and promote through laws governing marriage. We embrace the principle that all Americans should be treated with respect and dignity.
I hope you don't think I will feel like I have been treated with 'respect and dignity' if you let the Republican Party continue to eschew discrimination against me. I hope you think I am just as capable of raising children, of having a family, of loving others.I hope you also know that I do not intend to inflict guilt. I merely have been reflecting on this troubling issue for a long time, and it truly bothers me that you cannot see how important this is.
With the added knowledge that as a resident of California, your vote for Romney is hardly counted anyway, why vote for someone, and someone's party, who would try so hard to take away so much from me?
Change is one person at a time.
I love you,
Your (more than just a lesbian) daughter.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Tattoos
I often get asked why I got my tattoos, whether it be to inquire as to what my tattoos mean or to determine why I would permanently mark my flesh, and I sometimes wonder if I really need to justify myself.
Very few things in life are 'sure', and certainly most are impermanent. The one thing that you really have with you as long as you live is you. Maybe I want more things that I get to carry with me forever.
Really, though, memories are fleeting, but I find some of them important enough to cherish forever. I guess some people would be satisfied by writing it down, but there's something kind of cathartic about having an hour, or a few hours, of numb tingling as you really reflect on why you chose that particular thing to live with you. My first tattoo commemorates my grandmother, but in a way that most people would not get. It's a memory I have, of her pointing out birds to me. For whatever reason, her identifying a red-winged blackbird to me stayed in the back of my head for years, but the idea of losing the memory was much more frightening than attaching it to me 'permanently'.
People talk about your body being 'your temple', but I think if you had a temple without any personal touches it would be kind of vacant. I don't necessarily encourage anyone to get any tattoo, because yes, your body is precious, and regrettably, people will judge you, but if what you want to get feels important, interesting, or just worth the money, why not?
Is it necessary to really care what it's going to look like when you're 70? I can't imagine most of my skin is going to look that great, so why would one patch having blurred color upset me any more than having signs of age? Memories blur and distort over time as well.
Some people also argue that because our preferences change over time, a tattoo you might initially like will become a reminder of your terrible taste as a teenager or young adult. I see it differently, however, because I think if you choose your tattoo carefully, or even poorly, you could look at it instead as a reminder of a different time in your life, a celebration of youthful joy.
Clearly this can't really apply to 'gang' tattoos, but if you grow to regret them (which may be a good thing), it could teach you to be more careful and perhaps consider the choices you make in the future.
As it is, I don't imagine ever being sad or regretting my tattoos, because they have become a part of me, and have taught me to cherish my memories and commemorate their importance permanently. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
Very few things in life are 'sure', and certainly most are impermanent. The one thing that you really have with you as long as you live is you. Maybe I want more things that I get to carry with me forever.
Really, though, memories are fleeting, but I find some of them important enough to cherish forever. I guess some people would be satisfied by writing it down, but there's something kind of cathartic about having an hour, or a few hours, of numb tingling as you really reflect on why you chose that particular thing to live with you. My first tattoo commemorates my grandmother, but in a way that most people would not get. It's a memory I have, of her pointing out birds to me. For whatever reason, her identifying a red-winged blackbird to me stayed in the back of my head for years, but the idea of losing the memory was much more frightening than attaching it to me 'permanently'.
People talk about your body being 'your temple', but I think if you had a temple without any personal touches it would be kind of vacant. I don't necessarily encourage anyone to get any tattoo, because yes, your body is precious, and regrettably, people will judge you, but if what you want to get feels important, interesting, or just worth the money, why not?
Is it necessary to really care what it's going to look like when you're 70? I can't imagine most of my skin is going to look that great, so why would one patch having blurred color upset me any more than having signs of age? Memories blur and distort over time as well.
Some people also argue that because our preferences change over time, a tattoo you might initially like will become a reminder of your terrible taste as a teenager or young adult. I see it differently, however, because I think if you choose your tattoo carefully, or even poorly, you could look at it instead as a reminder of a different time in your life, a celebration of youthful joy.
Clearly this can't really apply to 'gang' tattoos, but if you grow to regret them (which may be a good thing), it could teach you to be more careful and perhaps consider the choices you make in the future.
As it is, I don't imagine ever being sad or regretting my tattoos, because they have become a part of me, and have taught me to cherish my memories and commemorate their importance permanently. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Bite-Size Show Reviews
Since arriving in London, I have seen seven shows, five of which were straight plays, one was a musical, and one was comedy, and I have yet to really write about any of them. Regrettably some of these won't be useful, because the shows have already closed, but I'll talk about them anyway, but only two at a time. I'm lazy like that.
The first two:
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Imelda Staunton and Michael Ball.
(This show closed September 22nd)
One of the more popular works of Sondheim's oeuvre gets a nice facelift in Jonathan Kent's version of the chilling stage musical, complete with a new set design by Anthony Ward. Set in 1920's London, and featuring an onstage "overseer", if you will, the production felt very much inspired by the original Harold Prince incarnation, but the slightly industrial feel lent an air of scientific observation to the show that felt very appropriate. The new set also abandoned the rotating box in favor of different platforms that wheeled in and out, which felt effective, though very large scale. Imelda Staunton tripped up in the beginning, vocally, but quickly recovered to a fantastic performance through the rest of the show. Michael Ball's tenor was somewhat disappointingly thin, but his sneer and impeccable acting choices made up for it. Performances from the rest of the cast were solid, though I was unhappy with James McConville's Toby, both in acting and in song, as he remained off-pitch most of the night. Overall, however, a fantastic show, which left most of what worked in the original alone, and added some interesting new choices. 4.5 stars out of 5.
Our Boys, A Play by Jonathan Lewis, with Arthur Darvill, Laurence Fox, and Matthew Lewis.
(Tickets available until December 15th)
The West End debut of Our Boys is rather star-studded, but Jonathan Lewis' play is clearly shines in this production, which brings out touching performances from all its actors. I was particularly impressed by the work of Cian Barry and Lewis Reeves, who presented solid character and excellent emotional range. David Grindley directed a funny, occasionally touching, and altogether very firm production. It's certainly pleasant to watch, and I imagine it will attract many fans of Doctor Who, Harry Potter, and Lewis, who will probably go away pleased. 3 stars out of 5.
Other than seeing lots of theatre, I've also been exploring the fun of cooking for myself (not sarcasm, I swear), which includes making curries, oven roasting pears, fajitas, homemade guacamole, and stir-frying like it's my job. Every now and then I also go to class and do homework, as well, but hey, life of a student.
The first two:
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Imelda Staunton and Michael Ball.
(This show closed September 22nd)
One of the more popular works of Sondheim's oeuvre gets a nice facelift in Jonathan Kent's version of the chilling stage musical, complete with a new set design by Anthony Ward. Set in 1920's London, and featuring an onstage "overseer", if you will, the production felt very much inspired by the original Harold Prince incarnation, but the slightly industrial feel lent an air of scientific observation to the show that felt very appropriate. The new set also abandoned the rotating box in favor of different platforms that wheeled in and out, which felt effective, though very large scale. Imelda Staunton tripped up in the beginning, vocally, but quickly recovered to a fantastic performance through the rest of the show. Michael Ball's tenor was somewhat disappointingly thin, but his sneer and impeccable acting choices made up for it. Performances from the rest of the cast were solid, though I was unhappy with James McConville's Toby, both in acting and in song, as he remained off-pitch most of the night. Overall, however, a fantastic show, which left most of what worked in the original alone, and added some interesting new choices. 4.5 stars out of 5.
Our Boys, A Play by Jonathan Lewis, with Arthur Darvill, Laurence Fox, and Matthew Lewis.
(Tickets available until December 15th)
The West End debut of Our Boys is rather star-studded, but Jonathan Lewis' play is clearly shines in this production, which brings out touching performances from all its actors. I was particularly impressed by the work of Cian Barry and Lewis Reeves, who presented solid character and excellent emotional range. David Grindley directed a funny, occasionally touching, and altogether very firm production. It's certainly pleasant to watch, and I imagine it will attract many fans of Doctor Who, Harry Potter, and Lewis, who will probably go away pleased. 3 stars out of 5.
Other than seeing lots of theatre, I've also been exploring the fun of cooking for myself (not sarcasm, I swear), which includes making curries, oven roasting pears, fajitas, homemade guacamole, and stir-frying like it's my job. Every now and then I also go to class and do homework, as well, but hey, life of a student.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Fiction: Music
Finger after finger danced along the white and black, pounding a staccato melody that haunted the room. There was a small bead of sweat gathering at her right temple, slowly beginning its descent along the line of her jaw. Teeth clenched in anticipation of a passage and then relaxed as it flew past, drifting on the waves of sound into the rafters. Lights were shining along the gleaming, angular sides of black and reflecting colors not unlike the mood of the piece. Time crept through as if burdened by some remembered dream. Slamming through the fog of her trance-like expression came the final chords, hammering the end. The hall was caressed by the echoing notes until silence settled over the seats. Her foot slowly lifted in sync with her fingers, until there was no contact left. A single tear welled, and was quickly wiped away.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Regrets
One thing I was reflecting on earlier is that I have a tendency to replay moments and scenarios in my head and imagine how I would do them differently. This is sometimes helpful, as it helps me see who I wish to become and how I want to interact with the world, but it can also just serve to point out things I regret.
Regret is very interesting to me, because I think it implies a lack of satisfaction for where we currently are. Before I start the process of guilt and remorse, or just a bit of kicking myself, I try to remember that I wouldn't be the person I am today without making the choices I'd made in the past.
To interject a bit of why I shouldn't regret the choices I've made, I have a pretty awesome life right now. I have friends, and an active social life, I live in London, I study drama at one of the best schools for drama in the world, and I'm able to think critically about social and political issues. The regrets, however, still persist, but the ache is dulled quite a bit.
I think one of the things I regret the most is how I tend to disrespect myself and my feelings. Far from finding this to be depressing, I think of it instead as a tool to engage in changing the things about my psyche that lead to making that kind of behavior standard. Perhaps regret really is just another way to create positivity and foster important reevaluations of our position in life, and we should be grateful that we regret.
In the spirit of proving regret is useful, I will publish some poetry, because one of the things I wish I had done is produce creative writing more regularly.
The whisper of you is like a shadow
On the memories of my future
Crawling slowly over the terrain
Giving relief to the bright blindness of inexperience
I wonder how I could have changed
Created something beyond the petty quarrels
Broken promises
Missed opportunities
But I think they might have been right to say
If it was meant to be there would be no obstacles
Nothing is nothing, in that way, but nothing
Can be something beyond
Past our misjudged comments and
Empty words and accidents
A small green shoot spreads leaves upward
Basks in the sunlight of a grin
Flourishes as it expands and
Bursts into being
Only the choice gives hint at reality,
I am not my mind's tenant, forced to remember
The soft caress of recollected wrongs
Slips away on the peace of being free
Regret is very interesting to me, because I think it implies a lack of satisfaction for where we currently are. Before I start the process of guilt and remorse, or just a bit of kicking myself, I try to remember that I wouldn't be the person I am today without making the choices I'd made in the past.
To interject a bit of why I shouldn't regret the choices I've made, I have a pretty awesome life right now. I have friends, and an active social life, I live in London, I study drama at one of the best schools for drama in the world, and I'm able to think critically about social and political issues. The regrets, however, still persist, but the ache is dulled quite a bit.
I think one of the things I regret the most is how I tend to disrespect myself and my feelings. Far from finding this to be depressing, I think of it instead as a tool to engage in changing the things about my psyche that lead to making that kind of behavior standard. Perhaps regret really is just another way to create positivity and foster important reevaluations of our position in life, and we should be grateful that we regret.
In the spirit of proving regret is useful, I will publish some poetry, because one of the things I wish I had done is produce creative writing more regularly.
The whisper of you is like a shadow
On the memories of my future
Crawling slowly over the terrain
Giving relief to the bright blindness of inexperience
I wonder how I could have changed
Created something beyond the petty quarrels
Broken promises
Missed opportunities
But I think they might have been right to say
If it was meant to be there would be no obstacles
Nothing is nothing, in that way, but nothing
Can be something beyond
Past our misjudged comments and
Empty words and accidents
A small green shoot spreads leaves upward
Basks in the sunlight of a grin
Flourishes as it expands and
Bursts into being
Only the choice gives hint at reality,
I am not my mind's tenant, forced to remember
The soft caress of recollected wrongs
Slips away on the peace of being free
Friday, October 12, 2012
Success
As a highly motivated person, I think the true secret to success is dedication. I'm sitting here not wanting to write any of this because I'm not dedicated to my own thoughts. It's a frequent struggle for me, being so driven, to watch many of my projects slip by the wayside because I'm just not willing to struggle with them for long enough to see them succeed.
I think in giving up one is technically failing to a much greater extent than if they give a full effort and do not achieve what they set out to. Perhaps this is why success is so difficult, at least at a finite level. In order to succeed you have to be willing to fail at full effort, which makes you incredibly vulnerable.
I'm not good at vulnerability. I protect myself in a plethora of ways, and it's not the best. I think that Brene Brown has the right idea:
So maybe it's the case that in order to be successful and willing to try, you really have to be willing to fail, in whatever way that means to you.
I think for me, failing would be to give up on expressing myself merely because only a few people will ever read what I have to say. Perhaps it's fear of the unknown, of loneliness, of change, even, that can make us so unwilling to expose ourselves to others, but if it was easy to bare everything and open up to others, it would no longer be as unique, special, or powerful when it does happen.
Maybe my previous definition of success needs to be revised. I think now I would say that success is to do what you love and what you desire to do, learning to embrace fear and worry as just another piece of the puzzle.
I think in giving up one is technically failing to a much greater extent than if they give a full effort and do not achieve what they set out to. Perhaps this is why success is so difficult, at least at a finite level. In order to succeed you have to be willing to fail at full effort, which makes you incredibly vulnerable.
I'm not good at vulnerability. I protect myself in a plethora of ways, and it's not the best. I think that Brene Brown has the right idea:
So maybe it's the case that in order to be successful and willing to try, you really have to be willing to fail, in whatever way that means to you.
I think for me, failing would be to give up on expressing myself merely because only a few people will ever read what I have to say. Perhaps it's fear of the unknown, of loneliness, of change, even, that can make us so unwilling to expose ourselves to others, but if it was easy to bare everything and open up to others, it would no longer be as unique, special, or powerful when it does happen.
Maybe my previous definition of success needs to be revised. I think now I would say that success is to do what you love and what you desire to do, learning to embrace fear and worry as just another piece of the puzzle.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Monday Blues
I apologize. I was going to post yesterday, but I was not highly productive, other than a gym visit and physically going to class.
I've decided, however, to post twice to make up for it today. The first is a little sample of some of the playwriting I do, and the next post is going to be another opinion piece. So to introduce, I'll give the summary, and then a scene. I wrote this a while back, but I've only written a few scenes.
The second movement of the piece, “Le gibet”, is the setting of an observer viewing the outside of the city, and a hanged man. Here in the play, it is the sealing of fate after she buys the sheet music and begins to practice. For a while, life continues as usual, but gradually, as her need increases, her friends begin to notice her drawing away. Eventually her parents also try to interrupt her practicing by sending her to a therapist, though it is unclear whether they do this because they are concerned for their daughter or irritated by the constant piano playing. Beth, as she begins to practice upwards of eight hours a day, is seen skipping school and meals. Her frustration at her perceived lack of progress grows greater, and at the end of the second act, she seems to decide to discontinue.
The third movement, “Scarbo”, centers around a demon that haunts the observer, creating nightmares and generally causing mischief. Though Beth has attempted to stop playing the piece, her mind and body won’t let her. Plagued by nightmares and phantom twitches of her fingers, she returns to the keyboard, returning to her practice schedule. Though her parents attempt to stop her, she lashes out at them, confronting their hypocrisy and stuck ways of thinking, though she doesn’t seem to truly believe this herself. Beth repeatedly asserts to her piano teacher and friends that her rendition is just not good enough, and that her playing is awful, and it is somewhat akin to anorexia- as Beth gets better and better, she sees herself as worse and worse and practices with a frenzy that seems almost mad. At the night of her recital, she nearly refuses to go on, having nothing else prepared, but her teacher convinces her to play. As she performs the piece perfectly, the recital audience is entranced, unable to fully comprehend the kind of magic they are witnessing. Spellbound, they do not applaud, and Beth deflates, entirely crushed by this seeming dismissal of her performance. The act ends as the audience onstage sits in silence.
Beth is in a therapist’s office. She sits on a couch, while the therapist sits in front
of a desk in a somewhat imposing leather swivel chair. The therapist is holding
a yellow legal pad and pencil.
THERAPIST: So your mother tells me you’ve been playing a lot of piano lately.
BETH: Is that what she said? Or was it something more like (in a cruel imitation of her mother) “She won’t stop practicing, she’s driving me crazy!”?
THERAPIST: All she said to me was that you’ve been practicing for extended periods of time. Why are you doing that?
BETH: (dryly) Practicing? Well, it makes perfect. And I’ve just got to be perfect, right?
THERAPIST: Do you think you need to be perfect?
BETH: No one’s perfect.
THERAPIST: That doesn’t stop you from wanting it though, does it?
BETH: Maybe.
THERAPIST: So what are you practicing?
BETH: Gaspard de la Nuit. It’s a piece by Ravel. For my recital.
THERAPIST: When is your recital?
BETH: Two months from Friday.
THERAPIST: That seems like a ways away to be practicing so diligently.
BETH: It’s not. This piece- it’s. Well, it’s different. More difficult than anything else I’ve ever played.
THERAPIST: Tell me about it.
BETH: Well, I first heard it a month ago, on the radio. I was entranced, I guess. I bought the sheet music and then asked my piano teacher to help me learn it. He told me I just needed to practice it. So then I started practicing. A lot.
THERAPIST: How much is a lot?
BETH: Anywhere from 4 to 8 hours a day.
THERAPIST: On just that piece?
BETH: Well, I spend about 45 minutes on scales and technical studies, but the rest of the time it’s just on that piece, yes.
THERAPIST: Do you feel like you need to prove something? You seem to feel derisively about your mother’s opinion of your practicing.
BETH: She doesn’t like that I want to play piano. I know she hates that she let me get so many lessons, and has a piano in the house. She wishes I would study more and get better grades.
THERAPIST: Does that hurt you?
BETH: Playing piano is my passion. Aren’t parents supposed to want their children to pursue their passion?
THERAPIST: Ideally. But sometimes parents get confused. (after a long silence) Do you think playing this piece will help?
BETH: It’s so hard. I guess if I play it perfectly, they’d have to notice, right?
THERAPIST: Notice what?
BETH: Me. They have never noticed me. Except for when I irritate them.
THERAPIST: What makes you say that?
BETH: All they ever do is yell at me. “Beth, your report card came back, it was shameful!” “Beth, your room is a pigsty, clean it up!” “Beth, stop playing piano and go study!” I just want them to pay attention to something good for once.
THERAPIST: Have you talked to them about this?
BETH: No. It’s not exactly polite to tell your parents they’re awful at parenting.
THERAPIST: Well no, I mean, couldn’t you ask them to be more positive with you?
BETH: Why? I mean, what other kid has to ask for attention. I’m too old to cry and throw temper tantrums. I feel ashamed to have to ask. I’m just an imposition to them anyway.
THERAPIST: What makes you say that?
Alright, there you go. A sample of my "creative" writing. Hope this is interesting. Also, any feedback is highly appreciated.
I've decided, however, to post twice to make up for it today. The first is a little sample of some of the playwriting I do, and the next post is going to be another opinion piece. So to introduce, I'll give the summary, and then a scene. I wrote this a while back, but I've only written a few scenes.
Title: ”Treasured”
This plays centers around a young woman, Beth, whose decrease of control in her own life has lead her to become obsessive in her practicing of the piano. She decides she must perform “Gaspard de la Nuit” by Ravel at her next recital. The play itself echoes the piece, which is structured in three movements: Ondine, Le gibet, and Scarbo.Ondine, in Ravel’s work, is inspired by the oneiric tale of a water fairy that is almost akin to a siren. For Beth, this seduction occurs when she first hears the piece performed, quite accidentally, while listening to a classical radio station. Enamored by its daunting technicality and fluid expressionism, she feels its difficulty will impress anyone who listens to her playing. In the first act, Beth has a confrontation with her mother, who is disappointed in the report card that has just been mailed home. Later that evening, at the dinner table, her parents continually harp on Beth about the impracticality of her music, the B’s on her report card, and their perceptions of her as being lazy and unmotivated. Throughout the first act she is in conflict with them, her teachers, and friends, and as she finally retreats to her room and turns on the radio at the close of the third act, “Ondine” begins to play. The second movement of the piece, “Le gibet”, is the setting of an observer viewing the outside of the city, and a hanged man. Here in the play, it is the sealing of fate after she buys the sheet music and begins to practice. For a while, life continues as usual, but gradually, as her need increases, her friends begin to notice her drawing away. Eventually her parents also try to interrupt her practicing by sending her to a therapist, though it is unclear whether they do this because they are concerned for their daughter or irritated by the constant piano playing. Beth, as she begins to practice upwards of eight hours a day, is seen skipping school and meals. Her frustration at her perceived lack of progress grows greater, and at the end of the second act, she seems to decide to discontinue.
The third movement, “Scarbo”, centers around a demon that haunts the observer, creating nightmares and generally causing mischief. Though Beth has attempted to stop playing the piece, her mind and body won’t let her. Plagued by nightmares and phantom twitches of her fingers, she returns to the keyboard, returning to her practice schedule. Though her parents attempt to stop her, she lashes out at them, confronting their hypocrisy and stuck ways of thinking, though she doesn’t seem to truly believe this herself. Beth repeatedly asserts to her piano teacher and friends that her rendition is just not good enough, and that her playing is awful, and it is somewhat akin to anorexia- as Beth gets better and better, she sees herself as worse and worse and practices with a frenzy that seems almost mad. At the night of her recital, she nearly refuses to go on, having nothing else prepared, but her teacher convinces her to play. As she performs the piece perfectly, the recital audience is entranced, unable to fully comprehend the kind of magic they are witnessing. Spellbound, they do not applaud, and Beth deflates, entirely crushed by this seeming dismissal of her performance. The act ends as the audience onstage sits in silence.
Act 2, Scene 3
Beth is in a therapist’s office. She sits on a couch, while the therapist sits in front
of a desk in a somewhat imposing leather swivel chair. The therapist is holding
a yellow legal pad and pencil.
THERAPIST: So your mother tells me you’ve been playing a lot of piano lately.
BETH: Is that what she said? Or was it something more like (in a cruel imitation of her mother) “She won’t stop practicing, she’s driving me crazy!”?
THERAPIST: All she said to me was that you’ve been practicing for extended periods of time. Why are you doing that?
BETH: (dryly) Practicing? Well, it makes perfect. And I’ve just got to be perfect, right?
THERAPIST: Do you think you need to be perfect?
BETH: No one’s perfect.
THERAPIST: That doesn’t stop you from wanting it though, does it?
BETH: Maybe.
THERAPIST: So what are you practicing?
BETH: Gaspard de la Nuit. It’s a piece by Ravel. For my recital.
THERAPIST: When is your recital?
BETH: Two months from Friday.
THERAPIST: That seems like a ways away to be practicing so diligently.
BETH: It’s not. This piece- it’s. Well, it’s different. More difficult than anything else I’ve ever played.
THERAPIST: Tell me about it.
BETH: Well, I first heard it a month ago, on the radio. I was entranced, I guess. I bought the sheet music and then asked my piano teacher to help me learn it. He told me I just needed to practice it. So then I started practicing. A lot.
THERAPIST: How much is a lot?
BETH: Anywhere from 4 to 8 hours a day.
THERAPIST: On just that piece?
BETH: Well, I spend about 45 minutes on scales and technical studies, but the rest of the time it’s just on that piece, yes.
THERAPIST: Do you feel like you need to prove something? You seem to feel derisively about your mother’s opinion of your practicing.
BETH: She doesn’t like that I want to play piano. I know she hates that she let me get so many lessons, and has a piano in the house. She wishes I would study more and get better grades.
THERAPIST: Does that hurt you?
BETH: Playing piano is my passion. Aren’t parents supposed to want their children to pursue their passion?
THERAPIST: Ideally. But sometimes parents get confused. (after a long silence) Do you think playing this piece will help?
BETH: It’s so hard. I guess if I play it perfectly, they’d have to notice, right?
THERAPIST: Notice what?
BETH: Me. They have never noticed me. Except for when I irritate them.
THERAPIST: What makes you say that?
BETH: All they ever do is yell at me. “Beth, your report card came back, it was shameful!” “Beth, your room is a pigsty, clean it up!” “Beth, stop playing piano and go study!” I just want them to pay attention to something good for once.
THERAPIST: Have you talked to them about this?
BETH: No. It’s not exactly polite to tell your parents they’re awful at parenting.
THERAPIST: Well no, I mean, couldn’t you ask them to be more positive with you?
BETH: Why? I mean, what other kid has to ask for attention. I’m too old to cry and throw temper tantrums. I feel ashamed to have to ask. I’m just an imposition to them anyway.
THERAPIST: What makes you say that?
Alright, there you go. A sample of my "creative" writing. Hope this is interesting. Also, any feedback is highly appreciated.
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