In February, two bills were debated in Utah. They didn't even get out of committee, and are now "dead". One was to allow gay and unmarried couples (yes, straight people) to adopt ,and one was to protect LGBT people from discrimination in housing and employment. The opponents of both of these used "choice" as their sole argument (thanks to Joe for these):
"...those who choose alternative lifestyles suffer the consequences..." (Stephen Sandstrom, R-Orem)
"What we're talking about is choice -- someone's sexual choice," she told a House panel. "Why would we put into law someone's sexual choice? … This is not the right thing to do." (Gayle Ruzicka, Eagle Forum President)
Clearly, it worked.
The Family Research Council (aka "The Axis of Evil") is certainly clear about it. Their handy brochure, "Homosexuality is Not a Civil Right" will fill you right in, 'splain it all to you so you understand clearly that being gay is a choice (or possibly you will understand clearly that the agenda of the RRR is to make that case, which is kinda different, don't you think?). Whatever you understand, people believe them.
And so do I.
Now, now, now....put away the pitchforks.
It has long been the stance of the GLBT community that being gay or lesbian is not a choice, but an inborn characteristic, as evidenced by the chorus of "Why would anyone choose THIS?. Way to feel proud, guys.
Yeah, some in GLBT groups are now saying, "Oh, we aren't using that argument [what I call the "poor-us-we-can't-help-it-so-please-give-us-equal-rights" argument] anymore." When you google the subject, you find lots of people saying "what does it matter if it's a choice or not?" (yay, I've been saying that for years, I knew they'd come around). But you also find this. HRC, the largest and most visible LGBT political organization in the U.S., continues to fight the good fight on the nearly abandoned front of "It's Not A Choice!!" (a few examples here , here and here) along with their pals at the APA and the AMA (who apparently have to choose between inborn or illness, kind of a black and white world view, no?).
Not to mention the hubbub about recent statements by Miss California (the symbol of all that is good and fair), who I don't think really did anything that wrong (yes, I know I'm digging myself in deeper every second)--she just stated her opinion. Why do we care what she thinks anyway?
I don't get why our own community, people who support us, would do that. At all. What's the matter with choice? Sure, it means facing persecution, but so does conversion to Judaism, and nobody says that people are crazy to do that. Why wouldn't people choose it, if there's nothing wrong with it? Are they saying that those who DO choose are not "real" gay or lesbian people? Seems to me the only reason to argue that it's not a choice is to say that we can't help it (with the obvious implication that if we could, we would). I don't know. That's not what pride (of any kind) or self-acceptance is about, in my opinion. On that note, check this out. Yikes.
[If you're reading, and inclined to leave a comment that says "Well, I didn't choose it!", you've got no argument from me. Some of us did. Some of us didn't. All I'm saying is that it's got zip to do with your (or my) right to equality.]
Many's the time I've wondered why HRC and other groups, not to mention individuals, so often fall back on this "not a choice" line. Maybe it's simply a reactive response to the right wing tactic of calling it a choice--but isn't that letting them define the conversation? Not for me, thanks. Maybe it's because the men who run the organization feel that they didn't choose it--but isn't that a little egocentric?
Or....or....(wait, I'm on to something)...is it because we (or some segment of "we") actually believe that immutable characteristics are the only rational justification for being given full protection under the law?
In the spirit of that old Jewish joke about the guy who didn't get a spoon for his soup....
AHA! And again, I say: AHA! (I know. I already used that. I like it.)
Today, the results of a huge new study were released by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. You can read about it here -- or for you stats geeks who want to run the data yourself--been there done that-- the study itself is here. (Just for a moment, we're going to slide right over the fact that the charts presented on CNN only refer to Christian denominations- it's my birthday and I'm feeling generous today.)
The gist of the thing is that half of Americans have changed religion in the course of their lifetime.
So. Religion is a choice (like we didn't already know that). Hmm.
And its practitioners are protected by law. Hmm.
And no one is pointing that out. Hmm.
And it's tax-exempt. Hey!
We've argued the "we can't help it" line for too long. I don't care what APA, AMA, HRC, FRC, and all them other three letter organizations say. We have argued it because immutability is one of the requirements for being a protected class.
I'm here to say that I'm picking another requirement (there are two others, you know). Mine is not less, it's not more. It's equal. (Equal. Hey, what a concept).
If something is not immutable, it either needs to be innocuous or protected directly by the Constitution. Let's see. Eeny-meeny-miney-mo. Either one of those works for me.
In this day and age, in 2009, in the first state in the U.S. to legalize same-sex marriage, adults are still reluctant to talk about gay kids? It is taking every ounce of energy that I have to write about it rather than storm out my door and start shouting "Shame! Shame!" at random reporters, who honestly should know better.
I mean, I know that I wrote that post about choice, but in it, I even said that some people don't choose, some people feel strongly that they were "born that way". Of those who do, most that I have known feel that they knew when they were children, often before puberty, but if not, then certainly at the advent of puberty (that charming period of life when sexual attraction, and thus orientation, starts to flower and, in a cruel twist of fate, the period of life when children are most ruthless to one another).
I'm sure you know of the tragic suicides of two young boys in the past week, both connected to their being taunted and perceived as "gay". In all of the articles, even in the gay press, they point out that the 11 year old (!!) from Springfield, MA "did not identify as gay", though he was clearly teased for "acting gay" and "dressing gay". These attacks are being chalked up to "bullying" (which they obviously were) and much discussion has ensued about the use of anti-gay epithets as all-purpose ammunition for use against anyone who somehow stands out.
I don't think it's enough. I think there is still phenomenal self-censorship (albeit out of respect to the boys' families, a good reason if there ever was one, though why is it is more "respectful" to omit discussions of sexual orientation is a problem in itself). And way more than enough internalized homophobia (not to mention the good old garden variety) to go around.
I have now read countless articles about the deaths of these boys. Most of the mainstream press articles do not discuss at any length the anti-gay nature of the taunting. They briefly mention it, and then quickly move on to a discussion of how terrible bullying is (they've got no argument from me on that last point).
I've been reading about these cases for more than a week now, and of course have found the situation deeply disturbing. We should all be deeply concerned when young children are killing themselves as a result of being teased, taunted, and bullied. Like one of my favorite bumper stickers says: "If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention".
Few of the articles talk about the rates of suicide for gay youth. Yes, I know that young Carl Walker-Hoover did not "identify as gay" (which I found out only from the gay press), but so what? I do not presume to speak for this now lost child, nor his family, but I thoroughly reject the notion that the fact that he did not identify as such means this case is closed, and now we can just talk about bullying in general, and not about the way that children who do not tow the line close enough to the stereotypical gender norm are at risk? What exactly did they mean that he "acted gay"? He was clearly bold enough to be himself, and yet he obviously stood out in some fashion. This is not about random bullying, which is bad enough in itself. This is about the intolerance of gender variance, and our culture's lightning-fast leap to categorize it into "normal" and "deviant" categories. And it's also about homophobia. No, not on the kids' parts, though that's true, too. On all of our parts.
Why are we so quick to point out that "he didn't identify as gay"? Why does that matter? What if he was gay? Would that be bad? What if he wasn't, and then came to realize differently at some point later in life, as happens for so many? What if he was, but had not yet gotten to an age or a stage in puberty when he was particularly aware of his own orientation or attraction? For so many, being gay as a child is simply about feeling "different", nothing more. Or what if he wasn't gay, but he was accepting of those who were? And most disturbing of all, what if he, in fact, wasn't gay and never would be, but just exhibited some behaviors that could be associated with "being gay" in a young boy...like being kind, for example?
And at the risk of being overly politically correct (and maybe even seeming a little heartless, which I assure you I am not), are we being too quick to lay his suicide solely at his tormentors' feet? What if they were right? Did he feel safe to share that at home? In his community? Did he have role models who were gay, adults to stand up for him and tell him that he was a wonderful person, a child of God, a kind soul, whether or not he was gay?
Yes, bullying is terrible and should never be allowed. And yes, as we know from Columbine and elsewhere, alienation and taunting can wreak havoc in a young person's life. I was bullied as a child, as were many people I know, and I still carry the scars 41 years later--and my treatment was nothing like this boy experienced. Anyone who experienced it can tell you. It's horrendous.
But this case is not just about bullying, and we're letting it be just that. It's about homophobia, even if this child was not gay. It's about how we let anti-gay slurs pass when we interrupt racial ones. It's about one of the "last acceptable prejudices". It's about our acceptance of "boys will be boys". It's about our intolerance for even the slightest amount of gender-role variance. It's about our failure to rein in children who have somehow missed the lesson of tolerance and decent behavior. It's about our rush to reassure ourselves that he wasn't gay, he was just being mercilessly taunted. Maybe.
One of these cases was in Massachusetts. One of the bluest states in the Union. About to celebrate the fifth anniversary of equal marriage. Home to an African-American governor whose daughter is lesbian and who embraces the gay and lesbian community. One month away from a huge GLBT pride celebration, embraced by the larger community. A state filled with resources for gay and lesbian youth, including programs in schools and organizations dedicated to those populations (not all states have that, by any stretch of the imagination). And in this state, a child killed himself for being called gay.
How could we have let that happen? Are we so busy living our own now-legally protected lives to remember that the hatred is still rampant? Have we forgotten the children?
You may be wondering what set this all off. I mean, I knew about these stories before today, as you likely did as well. Well, I'm gonna tell you.
This morning, I was doing a little snooping around online. In particular, I was looking at the official "blogs" of the Boston Globe, to see who was writing about children and parenting (since that's what I do professionally), and what they were saying. And I came across this question and answer. The columnist is a well respected speaker on child and family and winner of an American Psychological Association Print Excellence award for her writing.
Now, I don't know the family that wrote to her, under the pseudonym of SadBoyDad (though that name has already got me by the throat). And I don't know the particulars of their son's distress, which is clearly notable. I only know that he is described as a 9-year-old who is "creative and introspective", hardly traits that are highly prized in boys of that age group (my daughter is 9, and I can tell you that that middle school "pressure" in relation to gender norms has definitely already begun). And he is talking about life not being "worth it". His caring parents are asking for support in their inclination to get him professional help. And what does the answer say?
Kids talk like this. He might not mean what we think he means. Yes, there is a way to talk with him about getting some help (that one wasn't bad). A suggestion to talk with the boy's pediatrician (that's another post altogether, but suffice it to say that most pediatricians are not sufficiently trained in psychosocial issues). And a brief mention of how the parents' concern could have been exacerbated by the suicides of the two children mentioned above, all of this under the heading of who these cases have caused "hypervigilance" in parents. Maybe. All of it. Maybe.
Not a single word about the suicides being related to suspicions of being gay. No attentiveness to the fact that the parent has identified this child by what some might call "code words". Not a question about whether the child might have exprienced any taunting, or even a suggestion for how to gently explore that with him in a nonjudgmental way.
I know. It's an online column. It's not a place for psychotherapy. But this was an opportunity. And from my perspective, it was an opportunity missed, especially in the wake of recent events.
I am not one to fold to stereotype, but it cannot be denied there are code words at work here. We in the gay and lesbian community know them. Apparently other people don't. Time for a lesson. When parents (or friends or teachers) express concern about a "sensitive, creative" boy or a girl who doesn't seem to want to do "girl things" (which at the moment is discussing High School Musical ad nauseum) with the other girls, it's time to look, even if gently and subtly and sneakily for how those people might respond if (and I mean "if"--this is about correlation, not causality) that boy or girl should turn out to be gay. Time to explore--tentatively and with respect--whether the parent's concern is not as much about protecting their son as it is anxiety over whether he might be gay (again, it may not be, just worthy of an exploration). Time to examine what programs are in place in the community where children might find like-minded peers, for a respite from the conformist mentality of school, if for nothing else. Time to subtly invite them over for a group picnic in the summer, one to which you've invited a family with one or more gay or lesbian members. Time to stop pretending this stuff doesn't exist until we all get to "tsk" about it when another child hangs himself.
Until we are attentive to these things, not only as schools, but as parents and as larger communities, these sorts of tragic events will continue to happen. And we will have not done enough to stop them.
If you couldn't give a hoot--an opinion to which you are most genuinely entitled, because after all, who am I to think anyone should care, it's not like it's a world event--you can stop reading now. Just sayin'. Don't be reading all of this and then leaving some comment like "Who cares?" (not that anyone will see it since I moderate comments...bwah ha ha....but still), even if "Who cares?" is the most frequently posted comment on most news sites.... and of course People magazine. Really. People read articles about the pregnancy weight of whichever one of the Kardashian sisters is pregnant right now (I have no idea), and then they take the time to leave a comment that says "Who cares?" Who cares? Um....You.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
On the other hand, if you're interested (which I am, because, well, it's me) or curious (because you're that kind of person...I love me some curious people) or perhaps a wee bit jealous (which I know some of you are), read on.
So here's the deal.
I didn't leave facebook because it ate (or killed, depending on the generosity of my mood) my blog a couple of years back, although I've thought of that many times.
I didn't leave facebook because it's one huge addictive massive time suck that has negatively impacted much of my work and my life. That's a really good reason, though.
I didn't leave facebook because I don't value community or staying in touch with my friends from kindergarten, summer camp, music festivals, or chorus. Those are good things about facebook, and I'll miss them. Although, come to think of it, you're getting warm.
It is possible that I may not have left facebook permanently. While I'm away, I'm going to spend some good time working out at the bullshit gym, strengthening my bullshit deflecting muscles. I'm gonna devote some portion of my day to working at the lab, testing out those new sprays that make facebook posts slide right off without leaving any powdery residue or unsightly stains. I'm going to go to Use-Facebook-Infrequently-And-Don't-Care-About-Anything-You-Read Camp. We'll see.
I understand that this is new, because, well, I just left, so I haven't thought this through so perfectly yet. But my reasons are timely, and hell, this is my blog, so I'm gonna write about them.
The short version, for those of you who have read about as much as your attention span will tolerate, is: I left facebook over gay marriage.
I mean, that's completely inaccurate and incomplete and doesn't even resemble the truth, but I am aware that, if you're a good little soldier and you read this post all the way to the end, that's what some of you are going to come out saying. It will be wrong, but that's all you will have gotten out of it. So I'm saving you some time. Okay. Fine. I left facebook over gay marriage.
Ding ding! Tram Stop Number Two. We will be stopped here for thirty seconds for those who wish to disembark at this point.
You see, I'm singl.....
I know how you think. I was about to start a sentence with "I'm single, not partnered..." and I could hear your brains clicking and saying "aha!" and linking that sentence to that "I left facebook over gay marriage" thing. See how that works? Well, you're gonna think what you're gonna think.
I'm single. Not partnered. So I mostly have myself to talk to. Yeah. You might think it doesn't make a difference (especially from the privileged perspective of being partnered). But it does.
I live in a town that I moved to solely so that there would be really good public schools for my daughter (an admittedly questionable elitist and capitalist choice that I still struggle with every day)--perhaps needless to say, I don't live in a hotbed of radical lesbian feminist politics. Hmm. Come to think of it, I don't think that there is such a thing as a hotbed of radical lesbian feminist politics anymore, but, hey, a girl can dream. So I don't feel a lot of community where I live and spend a lot of my time.
I'm a mom. I'm the kind of mom that believes when you're a mom, that goes at the top of your list. I get that not everyone feels that way. I do. So I spend a lot of my time with 13 year olds, cooking, packing lunch, and driving to events. (This stretches my anti-assimilation muscles further than they can bear, all on its own.)
I'm a lesbian who came out into an enveloping community of strong, resistant, proud women.....and into a community of some loving, wonderful men, the great majority of whom were dead by the time I'd been out for six or seven years.
Facebook is perfect (or deadly) for people like me. It's a little glimpse of community, a tease. One of my friends said, a while back now, that facebook was like "sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name". So...like a bar, I guess (which could explain my dissatisfaction right there)...but that's not how I took it. I know that feeling. We all know that feeling. Hanging out with friends. A place where people are glad when you pop in to visit. Where you chat a bit and then you go back. Nothin' wrong with that. That's why I am was there. Keep up with the latest, chat with friends, see what people are up to, take a break from being a single mom in an affluent (gag) suburb. The way life used to be when LGBT people weren't so focused on being "just like you."
I assure you, this is not a procedural issue, or even a fit of cynicism. It's about community. The kicker leads back to that age old conversation, the one that was used to represent "us" (whoever "us" is) in the Supreme Court of the United States (did you hear it?) the one that is one of my least favorite conversations anywhere, anytime. "We deserve rights because we can't help it", "who would choose this?", "no one in their right mind would choose to be gay". Yeah. The argument in our favor before the Supreme Court included the sentence: "[it became
unconstitutional] when we as a culture determined that sexual
orientation is a characteristic of individuals that they cannot
control." Great. Now it's enshrined in the federal record.
Poor us, we couldn't change this if we wanted to.
Bullshit. There are plenty of us out there who could change it. And have. Some of us (especially women, whose stories are buried under the "legitimate" research that focuses exclusively on gay men) did choose it, and aren't sorry, and aren't victims of this "horrible life where everyone hates us". I'm one of those. And WHY did I choose it? Not because of the sex. Not because I think women are "hot" (I don't care for, or even understand that concept, no matter who it applies to). Because the women's community, which has long been, at least in part, a euphemism for the lesbian community, at least in the place that I came out, was a wonderful, wonderful place. Warm. Welcoming. Alternative. Accepting. Diverse. Contrary. Loud. Activist. Feminist. Radical. A positive, wonderful, political choice.
So. This week.
The massive proliferation of red HRC (no, I'm not linking to them) logos made it clear to me, in a more final, permanent, way, that that community is dead, at least in my pretty large circle. I've kind of known it for awhile. But I have been practicing my best denial skills, and it's been working pretty well. Until this.
I have always held, deep in my soul, that if I were ever to find myself in this sort of crowd, I would leave:
I'm Jewish. When a family member dies, we cover our mirrors. It symbolizes a withdrawal from society's gaze, a recognition that mourning is lonely and silent.
So now you probably want the brief takeaway, because that's how people are these days (you see? I'm catching on). I told you already. You can say "Robin left facebook because of gay marriage."
Oh. You want the REAL takeaway?
Robin left facebook because she felt as if she found herself in a massive community of people who, almost without exception, have no qualms about playing right into the marketing scheme of a big, wealthy, corporation, and then defending it as benign. Because I found myself nearly swept along in a nationalistic, flag-waving march for assimilation. Because, in an almost flawless enactment of quasi-Orwellian groupthink, a voice of dissent is like screaming into a chasm--and frankly, I have enough of that in my life already without inviting it into my living space through a brightly lit screen.
Lighten up, Robin. It was great. It's a history making event. People were supporting us, everywhere. I loved seeing that sea of red. It meant so many people were with us. It's not a reason to leave. It's just a symbol for marriage equality, and we were just saying we're in favor of it. You're making too big a deal of it. I don't understand why you wouldn't be excited about gay people getting equal rights.
I am excited about gay people getting equal rights. I'm excited about all people getting equal rights, leaving none behind. Ya know, with the emphasis on the none.
And it's not a "symbol of marriage". It's a logo. Like this:
Or this:
Or this:
(Just in case you don't know what that last logo is (I know you know the first two), it's the logo of the ACLU. You know. The people who argued the case in our favor before the Supreme Court. You know. An organization that is actually related to the cases currently before the highest court in the land. An organization that doesn't focus its time and money on slick marketing campaigns.)
The equal sign, red or not, is a logo, created in 1995 by Stone Yamashita design firm. A logo of a $50 million dollar business, that overpays its executives and which many people within the LGBTQ community (especially those ambivalent about assimilation) do not regard as their advocate of choice.
So, you still want the "blurb".
I am a lesbian. But before that, I am a woman and a feminist. And before that, I am a person who believes in the inherent danger of groupthink, especially in the current culture of corporate capitalism run amok. And before THAT, I'm one of those moms who did not let her kid wear shirts with promiment "GAP" or other logos on them...I long ago joined the surprisingly large league of mothers who have told their children (as part of their education), "If they want us to advertise for them, they can pay us."
That'll do.
Hot tip: I already mentioned that I moderate comments. I don't do that because I like some of you and not others (though that might be true). I do it because there is a HUGE amount of spam that floods into the comments sections of blogs, and it's a LOT to keep up with. So it's easier to moderate. That being said, please don't send me comments that tell me that I need to learn not to take this stuff so personally. I've been listening to that shit my whole life. I am who I am, and I like that I'm principled and analytical, and I have people in my life who like that I'm that way, too. Actually, say it if you must, but be aware that I can respond to comments, and I will then feel free to tell you what you need to learn. Deal?
P.S. Oh. Even though I'm not seeing them anymore, much gratitude to my few friends who changed their facebook profile
pictures to GLAD, or Lambda Legal, or the ACLU. Even one or two different ones (not including knockoffs of the HRC logo) helped. And even more gratitude to people who changed their profile photos to pictures of themselves at their weddings or commitment ceremonies, or just together with their families of choice. And even more to those who just left it all alone, so we could all see your face and remember who we're doing all of this for.
Today, I finished something I started. That's almost as big an accomplishment. Today is March 31st (Happy Birthday, Judy!), and it is the last day of the National Blog Posting Month challenge to post every day. I'm feelin' pretty good about it. (Yes, I re-upped for April. I'm that sort...I need a little nudge. I might be crazy for re-upping. I'll let you know. At least I get a new badge!).
But here's what I really want to say: Oprah* really ruined that whole gratitude thing for me, and I'm not afraid to say so.
Here's the thing. Some fine people in my life have suggested that I do just that--make some list, mental or otherwise--once a day, maybe before bed, of the things I am grateful for. It's a good idea. Maybe even a really good idea. It's even the kind of idea I might have suggested to people at one time. But then it was co-opted by Oprah and "keeping a gratitude journal". I don't know. It was a great idea when I wrote it down and stuck it in an envelope for future reference, but then when Oprah licked the envelope....eeuuugh. Somebody got a breath mint?
I say this with full awareness that there are some, maybe even many of you, who are somewhere on the like to love spectrum about Oprah. I may be cast out from the sisterhood, I know. I'll take that chance.
I used to like her, way back when. A little, sometimes more than a little. But that's when she was a talk show host. You know, before she was a prophet, before half of America read what she told them to read or thought what she told them to think or voted for who she told them to vote for or shushed people when she spoke or cried when her dog died or felt personally involved in her struggle with weight. Hey, I struggle with my weight. Does anybody care? No. Nor should you. Yeah, I get it that that's because I'm not a media celebrity, but as I said in a prior post, I do NOT get the cult of celebrity at all (with the possible exception of Joan Baez, since I once hyperventilated in her presence...I'm all into full disclosure here) Your neighbor struggles with her weight. Probably somebody you work with, or somebody you're related to struggles with their weight. Why is Oprah's fat so much more fascinating than anyone else's fat? You know, that's all it is, right? Fat.
I'm not even religious, but maybe it's that whole golden calf thing from way way back in my history somewhere--it just looks and smells and feels like idolatry to me (and you know what they say about ducks). My skin crawls when I see people go ga-ga over celebrities--what they say, what they do, what they buy. It nearly tops my list of things I don't get. At the risk of dating myself (hey, who else have I got to date?), I didn't even get the Bobby Sherman thing (who is a cop now, by the way). "Maybe that's because you were a lesbian," I can hear you saying. I wasn't one then. I don't think so.
There. I said it. A double whammy. Bobby Sherman AND Oprah. And just to show you how nice i am, here are some rocks to throw at me. I'm ready for ya.
But since we're on the topic anyway (not that you had a choice), people also talk about the "responsibility" that comes with fame. Giving back, building houses for people in New Orleans, giving money and name to worthy causes, donating a fabulous auction item for a certain Boston women's chorus who happens to be having a big fundraiser coming up in celebration of the 5th anniversary of equal marriage in Massachusetts.... Well, how about the responsibility of reminding your followers that celebrities are....well...people. Where is the celebrity who is promoting the Getting People-To-Think-For-Themselves Association? (If you ever hear of an episode of Oprah in which she tells everyone to stop listening to her so blindly, let me know. I'll tivo it for sure.)
Well, of course, you knew this was coming. It was in the cards. I hate to disappoint, so here it is:
So.... I don't keep a gratitude journal. I tried once. I tried to get over the Oprah-ness of it, and bought a special little notebook. I wrote in it once. Now I use it to make shopping lists. It just made me feel like I had to buy a snuggie, eat Hamburger Helper for dinner, and get my teeth whitened. Ya know?
Which is NOT to say that I'm not grateful. [Ah, she's finally getting to the point! Yeah, I hear the collective sigh of relief.]
Today was a very challenging day. Several bad things happened, any one of which had quite the potential to send me on the rapid downward spiral with which I am far too intimately acquainted. But I was saved.
Okay. Stop laughing. Right now. Stop laughing that I used those words "I was saved".
I was saved, as ever, by art (I have written every day for a month, and I have never written about art, which is incredible.) Not art in a museum. Everyday art. All kinds, including the kind that my new friend Kelly writes about in her blog. I don't know how art could be any more beautiful than that.
I am grateful to be a person who sees art (and an art project) in everything. So when I found myself needing to take a two-mile walk when I didn't expect it (don't ask), I noticed things. And I took pictures. They may not look like art to you. They look like art to me.
That last one, the now defunct and vacant Polaroid building, has hundreds of small glass windows, which made me obsess about doing a community art project where people bring their old square polaroid pictures and put one in the center of each of those glass blocks (each is probably about 5" x 5", just the right size to "frame" a photo) and take a Polaroid photo of it. You just can't get upset about the reason that you have to walk two miles when you're obsessing about an idea like that.
I came up with it. Don't be getting any ideas.
And the other thing I did (those of you who have germ issues, time to cover your eyes, plug your ears, and hum) is pick stuff up. This is an old habit. A very old habit. I pick stuff up, I make jewelry out of it. I name the jewelry (what? you didn't know jewelry had names?) after the event that resulted in my finding the stuff, or the street that it was found on. It's happened for years. Here's today's treasures:
I know, they don't look like much now. But they'll be great when they're done. I'll post a pic of the necklace when it's done. And yes, it has a name. Maybe by then, I'll be ready to post that, too.
And speaking of media celebrity, check THIS out!! Next thing you know, I'll be telling you what to read!!
*No, I didn't link to Oprah's website, even if it would bring me readers. Yeah, I'm a blogsnob. Why should this medium be different than any other medium? (See, there's that religion coming in again....must be the season) But Bobby Sherman, now THERE'S a different story.
