Dream

I received an announcement of graduation. I say an announcement, because the girl only mailed it a day before the ceremony, and the ceremony was on a Sunday. There was a picture of her from dancing in a contorted position, and she said she skipped an actual graduation party because of the dance academy she's been attending, and she plans to spend most of her time there until fall, when she'll move to LA and (hopefully) join a dance company.

Oh, the dreams of young people. Do you ever have that feeling? You know the odds are against her, and I hope she makes it.

Some parents impress upon their youngsters the need for college and a fallback career. The problem with a fallback plan is that you can't put one forth without actually putting in doubt that the youngster can't achieve the dream. You want to dance? Get a business degree. You want to sing? Get a nursing education. You want to write? Get an architect's license. You want to paint? Go to medical school.

The problem then becomes doubt. Your parents don't believe in you. Your teachers and friends can only push you so far - and after that you have to carry yourself. It's a dream. It's an art. These things can't be taught because it's an expression.

Don't get me wrong. There are schools out there to teach you form, technique, stamina, discipline. You might be technically perfect but you can't teach someone to have something to express. There are a lot of things that schools can teach you - and there are things you can achieve only on your own terms.

Doubt is very difficult to overcome. I wish the girl luck in her dancing. And then I remember how scattered I seem to be. Am I truly focused on my own writing goal? I could regale you with stories of my own fallback career. I could tell you about the way I was told I wouldn't have anything to say until I was older - still older than I am now. Yet the words come. I have things to say, and it seems I can't stop saying them. Yet I'm still trying to overcome the doubt. I wonder if I'm sending out the right messages to be heard, to be understood, to be shared. I wonder if my message is worth sharing.

Doubt is the path to madness. I need to express something, and words are my chosen medium. I want my young friend to make it as a dancer partly because I want to see someone make it without that fallback career plan. I want someone to not be touched by the doubt. I can't say that's me - I have one of those pieces of paper to represent a fallback career. Did it help me? It has shaped who I am, but I can't always say that it made me better.

Eye of the Beholder

Do you remember when your mother was the most beautiful woman in the world?

I witnessed a small girl, maybe 4 or 5, who looked at her mother and said, "You're beautiful!" Her mother smiled. Gave the child a hug. Yet something in the mother's eyes made me wonder what she really thought.

The earnest words of a child can be so powerful. Parents are supposed to think their children are beautiful. That was something I always believed as a child. But is the opposite also true? That the children are supposed to believe the parents are beautiful?

I have no doubt the little girl believed her words. Did the mother? Is it something peculiar about the person to believe or not believe the words spoken?

When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Women, especially, seem to fixate on their flaws. It's part of the problem with family. Can you look at someone who looks so much like you, a daughter, a mother, and see the beauty despite those pieces that you hate? It's a nose, eyes too close together, or even simple color.

There was a photo of my mother in a dress, hands on the column of a patio. Her smile showed her happiness, though I don't know when or where the picture was taken. I've heard her since lament her flaws, but I don't see them.

Is this the human part of the condition, where one is not allowed to see the beauty without vanity? That women cannot see it within themselves? Is it our culture, or is it something deeper?

More Art to Spark ... Something.

Art proves there's more to nudity than just porn. Too often that difference seems to be confused. Flesh doesn't have to be sexy. And there is more to flesh than simply the form we're accustomed to in everyday life.

Sometimes I check out the art to change my perception. It's one reason I love to do artistic things as a hobby. Twisting words is one thing, but the images sitting in front of you will change how you look and feel about everything.

Wax representations of flesh to create statements? (Suppose I ought to pass on the 'grotesque' warning.)

Paint nude bodies to match your canvas?

Use water to distort yourself for a selfie? (NSFW)

I admit that last one looks fun, but it might just be because I like to swim. It also says I've been spending too much time reading art news and not enough with my editing projects. Time to get in gear.

May spring come soon! This winter has been too long, too cold.

The Great Wall of Vagina

It's not safe for work. It can be really hard to tell, with a title like that. Somehow I'm the kind of person who texts a few friends to make certain the Great Wall of Vagina (and other awesome things like that) get around.

The comments really say a lot about this piece of art. Why don't women think they look normal? What is it that makes women so nervous about their intimate bits?

Another interesting part to note is under education. They highlight identical twin sisters, female-to-male and male-to-female transgender individuals, and labiaplasty.

Just look. Think about it. The controversy centers around the subject matter - whether this is art of porn - but see what else you can take away from that.

http://www.greatwallofvagina.co.uk/

Sex and Gender

Once, I was reading an advice bit from an erotica author (not professional). At the time, I had so much trouble figuring out the real issues I had with what she said.

She said she had written stories from different points of view: straight woman, gay woman, straight man, gay man. And that meant she had done it all.

Gender is a spectrum. So often people view it as a box to be checked. If not one, then the other. It's just like viewing everything in black and white- and there are therapists out there to help people deal with that difficulty.

The Kinsey Scale was one of the first to explore this idea, that there was not just a heterosexual and homosexual category, but that people might be better categorized by points on a line.

I laughed when one of my acquaintances talked about how he'd go bi for Antonio Banderas, but I love that he's comfortable enough with himself to say it. So many men don't seem to be. And yet most of the women I know have that one admission even if they're straight.

Which makes me think about our society. Why is that permissible for women and not for men? Why has it been more okay for women to have a list of other women that they find fascinating, but men refuse to admit any feelings of the sort for other men?

(Except, of course, that women are amazing, awesome creatures.)

Oh, and now I have a topic for more research: What does it say about a person (call him Guy) when he's attracted to a specific attribute? What does it mean when Guy decides it's okay to break gender norms (meaning what he normally finds attractive) for one other - like Antonio Banderas? And what does that choice say about Guy?

There are a lot more things in my head about that. Sex doesn't just happen in twos. Sex doesn't just happen between a man and a woman, or a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. Sex isn't always monogamous or exclusive. And gender doesn't have to be the only factor. Some people are not comfortable identifying with either - it goes so much deeper than just what genitals are attached to a body. Which makes that a topic for another post... soon.

Beginning September

Ever have those thoughts of doing something and not understanding what holds you back from completing it? September begins and it is a good time to start new goals, tackle projects on hold, and generally getting back into the routine.

For your reading pleasure: http://www.mid-day.com/news/2013/jan/200113-hatke-news-scotland-library-free-pole-dancing-lessons.htm
You have to love a library that will encourage readers in almost any way possible - so long as the books aren't damaged as tennis table bats.

Thinly Veiled Autobiography

A book brings expectations. When I open a book, it's about a story. When I write, it's the same thing. Each character has a personality and a challenge to overcome.

I know one of the clichéd pieces of writing advice is "write what you know," but that doesn't mean every story needs to be taken directly from the writer's life. There are pieces of truth and pieces of other things woven together to make great fiction. The pieces one person picks out as the truth become the piece that someone else believes can't be true.

From time to time I run into writers who seem to write thinly veiled autobiography. Fiction isn't as complicated as truth. We can't believe what really happened, but we have to believe in fiction. An author needs to tie up the loose ends at the end of the story. Books don't generally run through endless characters for one use - they'll trim them down to use one best friend for several purposes and one antagonist in many cases.

Why do I say seem? I heard a writer not long ago substitute his own name for his protagonist's. Another one talked about his protagonist as "a mix of himself and his best friend" but the protagonist's name was one letter from his own. I've also heard "but it really happened that way."

I wonder if that leads many readers to think that some part of this truth that writers need to express in story must be what really happened. They look at my stories and they look at me and they might wonder. All I can do is try not to let it get to me, and if they ask - tell them it isn't true. At least not what they're asking.

Fiction is fooling the audience into believing something is real that isn't. If I do that, I'm a successful writer. Can I fool you? I hope so.