I’ve completely had it with how most humans are about nudity. Why the hell do so many people freak out over how we do or don’t cover up our bodies? It’s mainly women that get the brunt of it, and I realized why yesterday: Women are often considered property- of a father, a husband, or certain predatory men who don’t respect boundaries.
I’m no one’s property, and I want the freedom that men have, that they use violence to take from us. Sexual assault, rape, harassment, torture, death; these are all things I’ve been threatened with by men because I wouldn’t consent to doing what they wanted. It’s disgusting, and it’s even worse that they blame it on us. If you can’t control yourself, that’s your problem; don’t make it mine.
Bodies are just bodies, and everyone is beautiful with their own spark of the divine in them. Get the hell over your uptight brainwashed issues with nudity. Our physical forms are amazing, just be grateful that you have one, don’t demand mine, don’t expect that you have any rights whatsoever over my body, and we’ll be fine. I love my physical form, and I’m not accepting the slut shaming EVER AGAIN. I am a whole human with biological needs, just like every other normal human on the planet. If you can’t deal with that, seek professional therapy.
Songs of the day:
Hard Out Here- Lily Allen
Lady Gaga- Born This Way
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Tagged art, change, clothing, hope, humanity, intelligence, mental health, naked, normal, nudity, recovery
It’s funny how the universe throws things at you. For one reason or another, I was expecting something to happen today and sure enough: another one of my ex-boyfriends walked into work. Dammit. This one is a mover and shaker in the music world, Porsche-driving, sharp dressing, dude. I hurried away, but it kind of ruined my day a little. It was yet another reminder of the horrible men that I choose, and how many of them there are: selfish, spoiled, uncaring of the rest of the world. He still looks exactly the same, still dresses all in black, and he looks like he does expensive drugs and drinks a lot. Ugh. We weren’t a good match, to say the least. And oh man, he sure pissed me off. Grrr. I’m pretty sure I traumatized him as well, and then that made me feel worse on top of everything else. No, totally not telling that story. Argh.
It’s perfect that it’s raining today; I want to curl up with Douglas Adams in a pile of cozy blankets and pillows and only come out for snacks and yoga and maybe some kayaking. Life is messy and moving fast, and I just need one tiny moment to reassess. And chocolate; I completely need chocolate right now.
Love to all
Songs About Rain- Gary Allen
I Can’t Stand The Rain- Tina Turner
Rain Is Falling- ELO
Black Sheep- Gin Wigmore
Slow Hand- Pointer Sisters
Oops, I totally thought that painting was finished. I love the piece; it’s all dreamy and floaty and it glows in the dark. A few details bothered me about it, but it’s been hanging on the wall of every house I’ve lived in for years. Then I hung it in the new place, and I suddenly realized the detail that’s been missing all this time- a cake plate! Phew. It was so obvious, it’s funny that it took so long to recognize. That’s the one thing about art that kinda irritates me- sometimes it’s a long process, and there’s no pre-detemined timeline. Still endeavoring to view it as a therapeutic challenge.
My new roomies finally got to see the full extent of my insanity when I unpacked a bunch of my paintings. It’s funny to get reactions from people who have never seen them. You walk into my room and it’s like an explosion of cake and color. There are other art pieces as well, but I have 22 cake paintings up and it makes quite an impact. In a warm and funny way. Art is one of those things that you can’t describe. I had told them the subject matter, but experiencing it is something else entirely.
My walls look like they’ve broken out in a cake rash, but my bedroom/studio has reached nearly optimal coziness; I think I will be reasonably well established and prepared for NaNoWriMo. Luckily I’m efficient with the whole packing and unpacking process. Ha! I love Tetris too, the quick adjustment of shapes. I packed once by color, but it didn’t work out nearly as neatly.
I just unpacked the phosphorescent paint, and I know exactly what cake needs it. Oh my god it feels amazing to even pick up a paintbrush again. Hold on, I need some private “art” time. :)
Love to all
Dark Again- Gold Fields
When The Stars Go Blue- The Corrs
Mind Over Matter- Young The Giant
Peaches- In The Valley Below
Desert Moon- Dennis DeYoung
I registered my NaNoWriMo novel for this year!!!!! It’s on now! Sometimes when I start a new project, I get a rush like jumping out of an airplane- that first few seconds when your body goes into wtf-shock. Yeeeehawww (I’m stealing that word from the rednecks, because it also perfectly encapsulates the glory of clearing all four tires).
I feel like writing dangerously, scandalously. The cover is starting to morph into shape, the optional illustrations beginning to coalesce in my consciousness. I see this novel coming into being more easily now. But one never knows what might come up- my life is unfortunately sometimes a little too exciting, so I’m jumpy even when things are calm. Which they aren’t yet.
Things have definitely taken an interesting turn in the last two days. And OMG I am so grateful for the inspiration and blast of hope that came to me right when I needed it. Thank god for the abundance of incredible women in my life. There are mentors and teachers all around, and how perfect that I start to bond with some lovely new ones on my birthday- the day I always wish for wisdom. I am now ready to let loose with the proverbial explosion of creative energy. Dammit, too bad I have to work and deal with so many tedious details.
I don’t really believe in horoscopes, but like many things, they have some grains of truth to them. The current astrological readings are messy as fuck. Bad communication, lots of anger and violence, and on and on. I am battling a lot of negativity and anger right now, and I see that shadow on so many other faces. I choose instead to keep striving to always be a beacon of light. It only takes a few bright lights to light up the world. And in the last few days I think I just had the mental equivalent of changing a light bulb. Wahooooooo. I love it when things click into place a teensy bit more, the universe shifts just slightly, and perspectives change.
Life is a series of challenges and learning opportunities- the universe is indeed conspiring to enlighten. It’s sure been a messy journey for me. I would much prefer it if it was sleek, sophisticated, elegant all the time. According to my horoscope, I’m all about beauty, balance, love, and seeking knowledge. That’s certainly a favorable way to describe it.
Fuck, time to go run some energy out. Since it’s an epic rain storm right now, I guess that means I’m off to the gym. Thank god I am in a good enough place to a) afford a gym, and b) can access and use one safely.
Talking Loud And Clear- OMD
It kind of makes me laugh to think of my ex running away with his tail between his legs. What an idiot. He sure felt he was superior, and I was merely the unstable crazy woman. Ugh, I had terrible taste with that one. The funny thing about people who have a long history of having it easy? They often seem to think it’s a sign of their inherent genetic or moral superiority or some stupid shit, but I think it can be a terminal weakness. Have you not read The Man Who Corrupted Hadleyville??? Everyone knows that tests make you stronger…which is partly why I am so irresistibly drawn to military dudes- besides the obvious virile yumminess. I appreciate people who have been through shit, worked hard for a common good, and who understand the value and fragility of human existence. I am merely an artist who has strong emotional responses to things. I am still stunned at how awful he treated me- completely inhuman. But then, it was my bad for not listening when he told me he didn’t have empathy for other people.
The new dude texted me; I’m excited that I get some play time. Even though he’s been married 4 times, spent a lot of time in war zones and calls himself “Mongo”, he makes me laugh and he’s damn good with his hands- clearly he’s also spent a lot of time learning how to truly pleasure a partner- an invaluable quality. I don’t see us talking about the news or anything intellectual, but then, I don’t really feel too much like talking. I need orgasms and giggling and some cuddle time, not necessarily in that order.
New Girl Now- Honeymoon Suite
Rubberband Girl- Kate Bush
I have a print of a circa 1900 photo of the Lady Washington sailing out of Port Townsend towards open sea. I adore tall ships and that’s my favorite small town on the planet so far(stunningly beautiful coastline, scandalous waterfront past, and no crowds). The weather in the photo looks perfect for sailing. The black and white tones show the light on the waves, and across the sides of the billowing sails. I think that’s called a following wind, and I got a whiff of it the other day. I have a burning itch to go on walkabout. I keep wanting to ditch all my material crap and just go. I don’t really have anything holding me here anyway. I don’t have anything holding me anywhere, it’s a little distressing and unnerving sometimes. Then I remember how much freedom I have, and I feel sorry for people who are tied down.
I can’t imagine being ever able to buy a house. My student loans and medical bills look like they may fuck me forever, and paperwork gives me panic attacks, it sucks. Besides, I’m not super great at math, but even I can tell that three jobs still isn’t going to ever get me ahead. However, I’m delighted that I’m functioning at all and keeping myself safe. The depression is still awful, I’m glad I can appear mostly normal in public instead of crying all the time like I feel I’m about to. There’s no point in distressing other people just because I’m struggling. Life ain’t easy, and the world is a mess; most everyone struggles.
By brilliant luck, I did get exactly what I wanted for my birthday: To sleep as long as I needed, and wake up without an alarm. Fucking yeeeeeehawwww, that rocked. I’ve been working so much, I kind of had to switch into robot mode to make it through. I was thinking that lots of people go through their entire lives that way and as much as I long to wake them up, I know very well how strong and negative the reaction is. It’s like walking through the forest around Sleeping Beauty’s mythical castle and whispering into the wind- wake up, wake up. I’m so exhausted still, I completely understand why it’s easier to sleep. I wish I could get enough sleep, but it never happens. Oh well; I don’t have to be asleep to dream of the open road, and I feel the call of the open water no matter where I am.
A Better Man- Clint Black
Neon- Chris Young
Ain’t No Cure For Love- Leonard Cohen
Cool Scene- Dandy Warhols
Cool Kids- Echoscene
Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)- AFOS
Holding Out For A Hero- Bonnie Tyler ( I wish I had the skills and equipment to remix this)
I keep expecting my editor to fire me. I know there are journalism grads and younger, smarter people who would have all the skills she needs. Instead, she keeps having me work, and then she’s still publishing the articles I write, along with the photos I managed to take that don’t suck. I keep wondering if someone is bribing her or something. I know I must drive her a little crazy- her brain is clearly linear, organized, and totally efficient. And here I come; sparkly, spacey, off the wall artist. She even insists on having me take typing lessons on her time. That’s a little embarrassing, but completely appreciated. I took typing in high school, but my sister had just died, my brother had just been removed from my house for molesting me, and I was heavily medicated- so I learned basically nothing in the class.
It’s weird; this week has been so difficult, battling thoughts of self harm, fighting the waves of sadness and despair, and knowing that I have to hold on no matter what happens. I don’t always see any point and I have periods when I feel completely hopeless in a lot of ways. Then I remember all the amazing people who have helped me in tiny ways or incredible ways, and it gives me strength. I’ll take the boost where ever I can find it- god knows there’s no shortage of morons and assholes who will tear you down and encourage you to fail.
Spitting Games- Snow Patrol
Lay Low- Josh Turner
Oh no, I just realized that my birthday is seriously imminent. Since I’m turning such a glorious number, I feel like I should do something epic and momentous to celebrate, but secretly. I suppose I should also do things with friends, because it’s good to celebrate, and god knows it’s been a hard fought battle to make it this far. I never wish to be younger, never miss those days or years. I miss people or places, and love my crazy list of experiences/random accomplishments. Some of it has been freakin awesome. Biplane ride, hangliding, kayaking, mountain biking, the opera, working in the ER, Italy, education, all those wonderful dudes and a few delicious women…yup, lots of fun.
On my birthday, for as long as I can remember, I wish for wisdom and true love (for everything, not just the pop culture version). I think I might have a tiny bit of the former, and glimpses of the latter. But at least by god/goddess/FSM, there will be cake. I’ve never done it, perhaps this year I need to smear myself with gobs of cake and icing, and call it performance art or burlesque or something. I think a massive sugar rush right now could give me the manic energy I need to move all my shit. I have to say- of course I got bibliophilia, because that’s so convenient for my gypsy lifestyle. Ooooo, perfect song of the day- overplayed on easy listening stations everywhere…
Gypsy- Fleetwood Mac
I hate deadlines, but I clearly work better under some pressure. I was even over an hour early on my deadline today- I wonder if my editor will notice. I missed it entirely last time- the panic attacks were crippling and my brain stopped working effectively. Rather than turn in something trite and stupid, I chose to not write anything. I know myself well enough, know how incoherent I get after a few days of severe panic attacks and deep depression. Communication of any sort becomes challenging, and miscommunication is a huge hazard at that point.
Now that I have my latest, fairly normal story turned in, I have three days wide open to pack and move. Time to get baked, crank up the caffeine levels, and make my own magic happen. Times like this, I just have to stay as occupied as possible, or the waves of sadness and despair become life-threatening. All these years of work, and it’s much better, but it still gets debilitating if I don’t work on it every damn day. Words can’t describe how much it hurts, how I sometimes wish with every molecule of my being for it to just go away and let me try and live some semblance of a normal life. I guess that would be boring though, and who has a normal life anyway?
Love to all
Ain’t No Cure For Love- Leonard Cohen (I love him sooooooo much, that voice! those suits! Why don’t they make men like that anymore???)
Magic- The Cars
Swept Away- Diana Ross
Dreamin’ Out Loud- Trace Adkins
Every Light In The House Is On- Trace Adkins
The Brandenburg Concertos- all of them
The Radio- Vince Gill
Move Any Mountain- The Shamen
Wave On Wave- Pat Green
My editor saw me topless; I have fuzzy boundaries but I’m pretty sure that’s never supposed to happen. I haven’t blushed like that in a while. Curse my short attention span- I was supposed to delete those pictures but I got distracted. I remembered that detail after she’d downloaded all of them to her computer. That moment as all the icons are quickly changing to thumbnail images- awwwwwkward.
It’s pretty funny how new technology opens up completely new ways to embarrass yourself- now you can even do it for a global audience. Good thing I have a high tolerance level for it. Those pics were just the ones I have on my front page, so I’m not ashamed of them. But in my experience, many people freak the fuck out at nudity. I think that’s crazy, bodies are just bodies, but whatever. My editor wasn’t even the slightest bit fazed. Phew.
We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off- Jermaine Stewart
Take It Off- Kesha