Perspective

My step daughter is a Junior this year.  which means that next year she is a senior.  which means the next year, she is a college student.  you know, if that's what she wants to do.  personaly i'm not a big fan of college.  i went.  it was ok.  it's just that i don't really see any kind of return on that investment, you know.  but then again, the degree i persued was theater and art.  unless you're one of the golden chosen, there's not a lot you can do with that.  i would be just as happy if my children went into the militairy or a trade school.  learn something useful, you know?  digressing.  she's picked out the school she wants to go to, and of course i immedietly did a google search for rape statistics on that campus.

please read that sentance again. 

one more time.

she told me the school of her choice, and unstead of loooking into how long of a drive it is, campus activities, or anything to do with her major, what is the first thing i look up?  rape statistics.  because as much as i love my step daghter and trust her in all her decisions, i know the likelyhood of her being raped is greater in her freshman year of college than any other time in her life. 

this is a problem people.  one that isn't going away.  i've armed her as well as i can.  i've given her the speaches, i've drilled "my body my choice" into her squishy developing brain.  i've tried to give her as much healthy self esteem as i possibly can.  i've taught her when to fight and when to run away.  how to hold her keys so they are wolverene claws.  i've prepared her.

and it has pissed me off.  There should be no reason that i should be telling her how to avoid being raped.  i should be telling her how to sew her own clothes.  how to use a jackhammer.  how to shred on air guitar.  not how to avoid a brutal assault.  not how to stop someone from breaking her, completely, inside and out. 

but it has dawned on me that while the problem is massive, i am in a unique position to be  part of the solution as well.  i have a 5 year old son, most of you know him.  when we go over his sight words and alphabet each night, there are a few phrases that work their way into the mix.  "no means no", "your body your choice".  things like that.  we talk about how it's never ok to hit.  to keep our hands to ourselves.  that everything diserves respect, no matter what.  and shouldn't everybody follow the same rules?  if we teach an entire generation something as simple as "everything diserves respect", how much will that change the world? 

Open letter to everyone

A lot of things have happened lately. Globally, nationally, locally, etc.  Bit of good. Bit of bad.  Bit of both.  And like everything through time everyone has an opinion.  I'll save you mine because it doesn't matter.  But I want to say this...

I hope your life always goes the way you want it to.  I hope you are never derailed.  I fervently pray that it's all smooth sailing from here on out.

Oh I hope you're never different.  That you never think outside the box.  Never open up yourself from criticism from the group.  Please never ever listen to that little voice that says "but I'm not..." because therein lies folly.

I hope you always conform to society's standards.  That you will always walk that very narrow path.  That you will always be content with the mold you were cast in by others.

I hope you never feel a passion for something that others think is weird.  That you never have to pretend to like something just because you will get called names and made to feel bad about yourself if you don't. I wish all your interests are herd-acceptable.

I hope that some tragedy never befalls you.  That something first happen that makes you question the masses.  That you're never put in the position that people will assume that because something happened TO you, that it happened BECAUSE OF you.  Or worse, to be told that it's your fault, for whatever reason.

I pray that you always do what is expected, even when the ones pushing those expectations are doing the exact opposite.  That you don't see the hypocrisy all around you. 

Please don't hear when society adds up your parts and decides your worth.  Legs, $50.  Breasts, $125.  Brain, $15.  Chuck the rest.

Harsh words I know.  But I mean it.  Because in the end... the world wasn't made for you.  The world was made for us freaks.  It was made BY us freaks.  Long after your beige boxed life has ended, the Technicolor awesomeness of us few, us glorious few, will be celebrated.  Annually in some cases.

We are the creators.  The protectors. We move this earth and everything in it.  You can belittle us, bully us, and talk down to us. 

But you will never break us.  

blooming

i'm home sick today watching today's video, and stopped at about the three minute mark absolutely floored.  something that Kelly Rae said really resonated with me.  "we are all innately creative, and we loose it along the way..."  and that is so true.  whether we loose it, or its taken from us, it's so amazing that we can get it back again.   i tuned 40 last October and it has so far been the BEST and most creative year of my life.

see, in high school, i was in every art class my school offered.  painting, drawing, even ceramics.  i killed at it.  i was awesome.  when i went to college, i studied theater with a minor in art.  and i was awesome.  i was deep into my art.  i even had been accepted to San Francisco School of Art for my post grad work.

and then there was a guy.

he was charming, and suave, and because he didn't "understand" or "get" my art, i let it go.  i let him, in no words at all, tell me that because it wasn't making money, it wasn't good, and i needed to stop.  he never told me to quit, but in looks and smirks little digs...  i stopped.  and it died.  and to no ones surprise (except for perhaps his), i eventually got tired of not being enough, of everything being my fault, of doing everything with nothing in return, and in an incredible leap of faith i left.

but i didn't paint again.

that stayed dead.  oh, every once in a while i would buy a sketch book and draw.  i still sewed, even knitted and did soft sculpture with needle felting.  but i didn't paint.  i again became a wife to a wonderful man, became a mother to two amazing children.  but didn't paint.  i wasn't good enough and it didn't matter anyway.  right?

until

one day after getting so angry (at what doesn't matter any more) and my mother becoming one of the few survivors of something called Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome (yes, seriously), my wonderful husband sat me down, went up into the attic and retrieved 20 year old canvases that i had carried around with me and my grandfathers easel.  he gently shoved me into what was then an exercise room and told me not to come out until i had painted something.

what that awoke in me was beautiful.  and amazing.  and it started me on the path to this amazing class, and honestly, i'm sitting here stuffed up to the gills, sneezing, coughing, achy, and yes, in tears because i am so happy to be where i am today (not the stuffed up coughing achy part).  in this class, having this catharsis, and being with these wonderful people in my tribe.  

Fantasy World

In the fantasy I play out in my head, I will eventually start making enough money off my artwork to quit my job.  I spend my days in my studio surrounded by my little bits and bobs, my treasures.  I'll stand at my easel and move and play, because at its heart is what my style is, movement and play.  Sometimes in this fantasy internal movie Simon Pegg arrives to buy a painting and declare his undying love for me.  I'm flattered of course, but only give up the painting.  Usually.

I've decided since Mark and I are taking our first vacation pics as separate times (we didn't get the same bid) I'm going to take my vacation to work more in my studio.  But I'm also going to take my work out to different coffee shops and small galleries to see if I can get them to display my work.  Its a little step, but I will get me out there more.

Of course I've never tried to get my work displayed like that before, so I suppose I'll have to figure out the protocol.  And get good pictures taken of my stuff.  (That reminds me, I need to take my camera to the Children's Museum Star Wars Night tonight).  I want prints made of my work anyway, so getting pictures is a win win. 

Someday I'd like to start doing conventions and big art shows, but I think right now I'm good with the small ones that are coming my way.  Its pushing me out there to meet new people.  Which is a good thing I suppose.  Im not anxiety ridden, but I'm certainly more comfortable in my own home or in a small group of just my friends.  Give me a pen and a piece of paper and I'm the happiest gal in the world, but drop me in a crowd of people and I'm an awkward teenager again. 

Anyway.

The addendum to this fantasy (not the Simon Pegg bits (hehehehehehe "bits") get your mind out of the.... Never mind) is that it all fits into The Plan.  The taxes will be done soon and then we start paying stuff off to get us out of debt.  The plan evolves every day.  Monday were getting a boat.  By Wednesday its a cabin in the woods.   Friday usually is a private island.  I like Friday best. 

The plan has to make room for my art supplies and show fees.  And Mark's vintage action figure* collection.  " We can't live like moinks", remember.  We have to temper paying stuff off with still enjoying our lives.  We'll make it work.

I was sorely tempted to write " doll" there FYI

Resolution Revolution

I dislike new years resolutions. I know of no one that keeps them for more than a few months at best.  But I have some challenges I want to meet. 

I want to sew 6 quilts this year. It breaks down to a quilt every two months, or 6 done in November and December. Depends on my level of lazy.  I'm ahead of the curve though, I've already got strips cut for one of the quilts, the Chevron.  I want to do a Chevron, a Crazy Quilt, disappearing 9 patch, an art quilt, the Loving Tree quilt, and a Star Wars applique checkerboard quilt. 

I must admit, I'm enjoying quilting much more than I thought I would.  I am fond of saying that I detest hand a sewing, but hand embroidery is a different animal altogether. I quite like it.  It started with a casual conversation with one of my coworkers about an art show that I've got coming up and I mentioned that I was thinking we doing a small crazy quilt (there are size restrictions in this show that make painting problematic, I like my big ass canvases).  I'd seen crazy quilts before and it seems interesting.  Turns out his mother has written several books on the subject.  So I got a little inspired.  Its kind of snowballed. 

I challenge myself to do yoga every day this year.  I love my Bikram classes.  So. So.  Much.  If I could afford it in time or money I would do it every day.  But I don't have that luxury.  In time or money.  But I CAN do at least a little yoga every day.  I don't care if I do nothing more than a corpse posse, just as long as I do something.  You know what, doesn't even have to be any of the poses.  Meditation is very yoga.  Anything done mindful is yoga.  Yoga dishes.  Yoga kitchen clean up.  I like it.

I'm noticing such huge changes in my body since I started my regular practice.  I can't wait to see how this continues.

I need to get my work into coffee shops and galleries. Now that I've got a couple of shows under my belt (read 2), I want to work on getting some of my stuff displayed around town.   I'm prepping for another show now, but in the spring I'll be getting pictures for my portfolio and heading out to coffee shops and small galleries to see if there is any interest. 

I'm not expecting to to get anything on my first go round, but it never hurts to get my name and my work out there.  This is what I want to do with the rest of my life, so baby steps.  Right?

I'm challenging myself to enter every art show that comes my way.   I need to be able to work with a deadline, and not just willy nilly whenever I feel it.  As long as I'm present in my studio, the muse will come. Maybe not every time, but the more I work, the more the muse will be there.   Which reminds me, I need to borrow those Tori Amos CDs from Andi.  Music feeds the muse. 

I will do more full moon and Circle work.  I keep meaning to widen my Heathen/Pagan tribe, and this seems a good way to do it.  I love my solitary practice, but I'd like do move more into a small group setting.  The trick will be finding a group that I'm comfortable with and that is comfortable with me. Finding the right tribe is tricky. So many opinions and personalities. I'm not guessing I'll find the right group this year, but I'll lay the ground work to find it.  And even if it never happens, at lest I've tried.