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Community Art To Warm The Heart

8/16/2013

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PictureHabitundo by Luisa Alvarez,
I want to share something stunningly beautiful with you that I spent many hours exploring on Thirsday! First I'm going to share some personal history that will help put in context why I got so excited, but the wait will be worth it and you'll learn some things you probably didn't know about me! Promise!

I really miss being involved on large public art works and also smaller efforts shared with the community. I’m especially fond of doing joint projects with other artists. 

Mostly, due to relocating and lack of funds, I didn't pursue my fine arts education further when I moved to the Bay Area. I was horrified when  took my portfolio into CCAC (California College of Arts and Crafts, now just California College of the Arts)! They enthusiastically laid out an exciting course plan then adamantly informed me that they discouraged their students from working while attending C.C.A. 

The intention was for students to focus solely on their studies,; idealistic and unrealistic in such an expensive place to live . In order to meet this ideal one would have to have fantastic scholarships, take out large student loans, have a supportive spouse or rich parents. I was eligible for some student aid and scholarships but I had been so floored by the cost of living shock compared to Fresno that I decided to put further education on hold for a while. Sadly, it stayed on hold.

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I always managed to keep some connection to art. My first jobs in the region included working as an art consultant in a noted gallery, which allowed me to meet artists like, Leonard Baskin and Mihail Chemiakin as well as work for some intimidating but fascinating people. I also restored art and antiques for a well respected dealer and worked in the retail store of a company that sold art and hand-made jewelry that replicated antique and  museum pieces. The owner, Shashi Singapuri, also instrumental in making Laurel Burch designs accessible was hands down one of the most wonderful people I've ever worked for! 

I've continued to produce all kinds of art over the years and though I would occasionally sell some, I eschewed showing my work at galleries for the most part. Because of the stall in education and my inactivity,  my resume was not as impressive as it was. I was also really turned off by having to sell myself and the required amount of pomp and pretension that comes part and parcel with being a working artist.

When I lost my home and subsequently, the contents that were in storage, I lost all of my art supplies and  lot of my personal work forever. This included music equipment and recordings, a lot of writing (including a laptop which had a complete novel on it), many photos and all my negatives and storage discs and one of my favorite pieces of found object sculpture. 
PictureA sculpture by Fresno artist, Diana Googooian
 I also lost pieces by some very talented artists in the Central Valley, many of them highly collectible and valuable, including a gorgeous pot by ceramic artist Diana Googooian that as very different from most of her work. It was one of the things I would have grabbed and run with if my house had caught fire. It had made it through 18 years, 4 moves and 2 long relationships without a scratch. 

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And,one of my most treasured pieces, a print by one of my favorite artists and mentors, Howard Statham is gone. Howard was a very interesting fellow. His art was often clever and satirical. One of his most delightful (and well known) pieces was based on Munch’s Scream. It featured Miss Piggy and was titled, The Squeal. 

Lost as well, irreplaceable signed books, exhibition catalogs and prints (Leonard Baskin, LeRoy Neiman, Mihail Chemiakin, Igor Medvedev and Pierre Marie Brisson) from my time at what was then, Bowles/Sorrokko Galleries. Some of these artistic icons are now deceased. Chances are, the person who bought my unit had no idea how valuable these items are. 
Leonard Baskin was an amazing artist and a brilliant curmudgeon! While I am delighted that I can find many examples of his works on the web, but this also makes me chuckle. He was a bibliophile and not a fan of computers. 
He also told me that I would really know nothing about art until I traveled to Europe and saw some of the great masterworks for myself.  It hasn't happened yet, but I am sure I will hear his voice in my ear when I do. The video on the right is from an exhibit that also showed in the gallery I worked at in San Francisco.

LeRoy Neiman was an interesting character and a much better artist than snobs give him credit for. He was famous for his expressionist style, brightly colored paintings and prints of sports figures and celebrities. They were immensely popular. Lesser known are some of his more delicate drawings of Paris. The memorial video on the right spans a wide variety of his work. I sold some of these serigraphs. 
One of the personal items I lost was a framed poster that the gallery was going to toss but one of the directors said I could take because it had a little damage. Many people don't know that I'm a boxing fan. It was an amazing drawing of Muhammad Ali, back muscles rippling, arm extended and glove about to make contact. Photos of just about every work by Neiman are widely available online, but after many searches I've yet to find it. I didn't realize until a few years later that the signatures of Ali & Neiman were not printed, but actual autographs!

This work to the right is by French artist, Pierre Marie Brisson. If you missed it earlier, you can click HERE you will be treated to a typical gorgeous  promotional video by the gallery I used to work for. Our videographer was brilliant and gallery director Jean Audiger, whose early morning cherry attitude complete with whistling and singing in French used to drive all us night people insane, shows why hiring an art historian gives a gallery credibility.

Mihail Chemiakin is one of the most bizarre, brilliant artists today. His skills are staggering. In a demonstration at USF I watched him create a huge pastel abstract line drawing (similar to the style below) of a metaphysical head. He did not lift his hand once. It was a continuous line! On the right is a piece from one of my favorite series, "Le Ventre de Paris"
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The video on the right is an excerpt from a documentary film showing the artist at work. Watch him turn a leaf into a carnival character!

Igor Medvedev is another Russian born artist. His paintings of the vanishing world of the Greek Islands made him wealthy. Ironically, he refused to teach me to swear in Russian because I was "a lady." 
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Leonard Baskin's Holocaust memorial in Ann Arbor, Michigan


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Igor's pictures, though representational are abstract compositions.

There are a number of favorite artists (I use the term, "artist" broadly to cover, visual, musical artists and writers) whose blogs I want to check regularly. Neil Gaiman's is one of them. He always seems to have something fascinating, beautiful, moving or hilarious on his Tumblr blog but I miss a lot of them. I manage to follow his talented wife Amanda Palmer because I am subscribed to her blog and get email updates. Another of my favorite authors, Jonathan Carroll, has an amazing blog that frequently features quotes and work from other interesting people and writers. Even though it is the first bookmark on my browser, I don’t check it very often. Luckily I have its equivalent in my Facebook feed! But most of the time I miss Neil Gaiman’s posts until my friend Molly happens to send me the link to a  particularly humorous or striking one. 
Actually, I think one of the things I love about all three of these artists is that they don’t just highlight their own work. All of them constantly introduce me to new artists it’s unlikely I will discover on my own! This is true of Molly as well. She is perpetually discovering, sharing and inspiring!
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I’m fascinated by urban exploration, derelict buildings and the art that often pops up in these places Sometimes in their ruin, buildings become art by accident. Gaiman’s post highlights six stupendous pieces of public art, all very different, that have been produced using abandoned houses. 


In several cases, particularly Ice House Detroit, the intention was to highlight neighborhood need and benefit the residents of Detroit as well. As part of their deal with the city they paid all the back taxes on a single mother’s home so she could remain and continue to do her own generous work within her community. They also fed a lot of local folks! 
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"Out of 85,000 grants during its 25 year history, fewer than two dozen (20) have even been questioned."
When people complain about N.E.A. grants claiming that it "funds pornography" or is a waste of taxpayer money and with their limited world view declare, “That's not art!” they fail to grasp how much wider the scope of an art installation is than it’s two or three dimensions. 
One of the things I am most enthusiastic about these pieces highlighted in Gaiman’s post; not only do they involve and benefit the communities in which they have been placed in, but in many cases people from around the world contributed to their completion either financially or creatively! They all are catalysts for discussion and awareness to important concerns local and further away. Also, they all involve reuse, recycling and reclamation. They are beautiful, amusing, fantastically creative, inspiring, detailed and there are so many aspects of each of them that just make me feel good!
As usual, when something intrigues me, I am compelled to run pell mell down the rabbit hole of links and find out as much as possible. The trip in this case was well worth it. I’ll share some of it with you here and encourage you to explore some of the artist pages as well! (I've done the research for you. There are many links in this post) Now, if I could just get into a  routine of checking Gaiman’s blog even once a week! Perhaps I can get someone to send me a reminder? (hint hint)
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Recently, I’ve been writing again. I’ve also started to gather art supplies. (Hooray for Freecycle.) I’ve done a little bit of work, mostly painting. I need to move soon and I am not really set up to do anything major here. 

Exploring these projects reminded me of my love of conspiratorial and public art. I think I have a need to connect with other artists. Although, my ideas will likely never be funded, (I am not patient enough to write grant proposals and again, there’s the stalling of the career issue leaving gaps in my resume) I would be delighted to be part of something. Helping someone else bring their dreams into being has always given me great joy!

Here again, is  the link to Gaiman’s blog post.
Gaiman includes brief descriptions about the artists, but I encourage you to explore further!
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Artist Heather Benning has a very clean and simple website which allows you to explore her work without getting bogged down. The photos of The Dollhouse, before, during and after when the house burned are really intriguing. The dollhouse one is a bit eerie. It reminds me of the pictures of some buildings after an earthquake or bomb blast when it looks like someone has taken a knife and sliced off the front ot the building so you can see life interrupted inside.This is much more serenely surreal though! 



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She has another piece done with an abandoned house called, Watching Woman, which is just stupendous. You’ll find it on her site menu as, The Marysburg Project. 

All of her pieces feel a bit lonely as if they have captured a moment during which life has just stepped away, The houses both appear to be in isolated locations which adds to this effect.
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Ice house Detroit, mentioned earlier in this post, is nothing short of magical! The associated site is a blog which chronicles the project from it’s Kickstarter funding, through all the installation work, interactions with the community, like the wonderful video featuring an art appreciating postal carrier below, press, completion and subsequent shows of the film and photography. It is well worth going back to the beginning of the blog, even if you don’t read every entry. It is fascinating, inspiring and will warm the cockles of your heart despite the icy imagery!

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I’ve gotten such a kick out of the crocheted and knitted art that pops up on public streets; cozies for metal bike racks and big yarn flowers sprouting off of street signs. In this case, International Fiber Collective made a huge cozy for a gas station! 

I encourage you to check out their Dream Rocket project which will eventually wrap a Saturn V moon rocket replica in 8,000 artworks by school children! Teachers and parents, it’s still possible to sign your school up!

This video about the gas station project is short, gives you a terrific overview and is just the right length!

I am now absolutely smitten with artist Candy Chang!
I love the participatory aspects of her work. 
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The "Before I Die" project Gaiman highlights is a community bucket list. Chang covered an abandoned house with a blackboard and people were invited to complete the phrase, “Before I die I want to_______” 


Many of her projects involve empty buildings!
West Oakland could use a Candy Chang!

Other installations include:
  • Writing “confessions” 
  • A literal "career path" with fill in the blank sentences, “When I was little I wanted to be ____. Today I want to be ____.” 
  • An “I wish this was a ____.” sticker for abandoned storefronts
  •  “Please Disturb” door hangers you can copy and use with your neighbors. Check them out! What a beautiful thought! 

I love every one of her projects. I encourage you to take the time to browse her sight.
Below is Chang's fabulous TED talk!

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I also encourage you to go beyond the Inverted House, "Inversion". and explore more of these artists' work! The videos are cool!

From artist Dean Ruck’s page,“Havel Ruck Projects (Dan Havel and Dean Ruck) is an artist collaborative that works in public and quasi-public environments to repurpose architectural structures and remnants of no perceived market value into works of art. By reorganizing the physical construction of unremarkable spaces and places, their interventions bring attention and recognition to under appreciated and ordinary buildings and their histories.”

Houston Artists Dan Havel and Dean Ruck are Awesome Sauce in my book! I love how they incorporate neighborhood history, social commentary, recycling and community accessibility  into their work!

A college art instructor of mine, Ken Owens said only rarely could one use the word, "neat" to describe a work of art. (He generally thought this was a lazy descriptive term.  FTW, one of my sculptures won, "Neat!" from him.) I think he'd say it's okay to describe, Inversion as, neat!
"It's either a tourist trap or a pilgramage"
-Dan Havel
The artists sued Honda for copying their Inversion piece in an ad for the CRV. The imitation was pretty obvious!

I’m so grateful that there are so many kinds of art. I've always felt that trying to limit the scope of a definition for, “What is art?” is an attempt to limit breadth of the human experience. There is such a wide range of artistic expression and I argue that pretty much all of it is valid. I have as much of an appreciation for the purely decorative as I do for the representational and the avant garde. 

I have a fondness for art that makes me think, even provokes me to consider something I hadn't given much thought to previously. I think that true art inspires some sort of reaction or emotion. This can be pleasing or serene and sometimes there is something about the work that can make people angry or uncomfortable.
It's all art to me!
Click on the thumbnails below for intersting info about the artists. Caution: The Gaudi link may leave you breathless!
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Street or Urban Art
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The Classical sculpture of Michelangelo
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Van Gogh's impressionist swirls
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Picasso working on his famous Guernica
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The Low Brow art of Robert Williams
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The Graphic Arts exemplified by Talouse Lautrec
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The large public pop art sculptures of Claes Oldenburg
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The dark side of Francisco Goya
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The remarkable controlled "splattering" of Jackson Pollock!
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The undulating Art Nouveau / Modernisme architecture of Antonio Gaudi
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Whistler's portraits
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The contemplative and surreal Frida Kahlo
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Deborah Butterfield's breathtaking horses
As an Aphrodite devotee, I ascribe to the idea of seeing beauty all around me.
 However, my ideas about beauty are quite expansive. The atypical, the deviant and the damaged is often strikingly beautiful.  There is beauty to be found in that which disturbs, in decay and in the simple and ordinary. Something that was hideous at first glance can become beautiful when one takes the time to look deeper. 

I have struggled with my view that almost anything can be art when I observe the range of graffiti in my neighborhood! Much of the tagging,  I feel, is thoughtless vandalism but then I see more substantial pieces that are so striking that I am glad when I see that no one has painted over them. Some purported works of art are so poorly executed or so purely pretentious that they irk me. 
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In my mind, this is simply a tag, though perhaps one of the more stylish ones. It irks me that the owners of this building have provided space for street artists, but this loser tags the part of the wall they've asked people not to paint!
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I think this is an abstract explosion of amazing street art sans the garbage on the street. Piles of garbage on my neighborhood streets and tags on nearly every vertical surface.
But then, I stop to consider that these things got a reaction from me. Indeed, I got emotional. They pushed my buttons in some way. Should I allow for the possibility that they are simply somewhere in the outer orbits of my art definition? 

There are many (I lost count at 40!) links sprinkled throughout this post. I've been careful to make sure they all open in separate windows and to save you from going down a similar rabbit hole to the one Molly sent me down for about 8 hours yesterday. (Thanks Molly!) I forgot to eat! 

This is why I don't blog as often as I'd like to and why they are so lengthy sometimes. It can be an all day adventure! I hope you enjoyed this one! In some ways it's as personal as my previous post, but not nearly as introspective and hopefully, more enjoyable; painless even!

I would love to know:
  • What you thought about these artists and their installations?
  • Do you have a personal definition of art?
  • What artists/kinds of art do you gravitate toward and why?
  • Do you think art has to be beautiful?
  • Anything you might have to say about art or this blog


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OUCH! Blindsided By Words & Processing Breakage

8/9/2013

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I am really feeling a little angry, maybe indignant, and very, very sad right now. Someone I care about very much said some words that really wounded me last night. This person didn't mean to hurt me and the impact didn't really hit and sink in until later, but I am basically devastated.

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I thought this person knew me better. I thought they knew that this "in your face," blunt and colorful personality that lets it all hang out in particular company while not merely a persona, is not remotely all of who I am nor how I act all  the time. I am not always this Mae Westy," bawdy, slightly obnoxious lady. Ironically, predators always see through this tough exterior to how sweet and vulnerable I can be. Other people have to take the time to get to know me and find that under this character, lies a lady of character. Those who really see me, get past the boisterous exterior and bother to get to know me, those who have been with me in situations where I am not hanging out with pagans, burlesque dancers or performing or those who met me in more socially restrained situations know I have impeccable manners, can be soft spoken and dress with class. There are two sides to the coin that is Lorelei Moon and they both have equal value.




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It’s kind of insulting, really. I grew up middle class in a conservative area. I am an educated woman. I've worked in corporate or professional jobs most of my adulthood. It used to be that most  the time people saw a quite socially appropriate young lady and the other side of me mostly came out when I was performing. I am in a position now where I can express the colorful side of my nature and play with my appearance more of the time because I am not having to live in the corporate or conservative world anymore.




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I still "clean up" when necessary. I have always been good about blending in with different types of people and behaving appropriately. Evidently, he doesn't see me as someone who can be "normal" or “socially acceptable.’ (Mind you these are not his words. This is what I have inferred after digesting the conversation)  In fairness, this person has mostly seen me in social situations where I am around friends who also are colorful and expressive, but I don't always act this way around him and haven't on the few occasions we've been out together in public. I don't dress modestly around him because, frankly, I know my clothes aren't going to stay on long anyway; he's a lover.

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When someone obviously finds me attractive, unless they tell me otherwise, I am going to assume that they are attracted to ME, that is the whole package. I guess, I expect, after a certain age, for a man to to be able tell me what he wants, likes or dislikes. In the past, I have had boyfriends who loved my being a singer and would go to all my shows yet, became disapproving and jealous when we got serious. I like to wear makeup, on certain occasions, a LOT of makeup depending on where I am going or who I’m with. I have been with a number of men over the years who thought that was fine until we got serious. Suddenly after they got a commitment out of me, they wanted me to go all natural. I went out with a guy for a while, even though I knew we were ultimately incompatible, because he surprised me delightfully, by loving the sexy way I dress and all the makeup.(Surprised me because he was rather conservative) It was so refreshing not to have someone intimidated by me or wanting to change me. So, if all these things about me grated on my current lover’s nerves, and might preclude things moving forward, if he was concerned that that was all there was to me, why did he wait 8 months to tell me?




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WTF? It feels almost as crazy as if it might if we had met at a jazz club and he had been assuming for 6 months that that was the only kind of music I liked or if he’d met me at a Dia De Los Muertos celebration, heard me speak a little Spanish and assumed all this time I was born in Mexico. Or if he saw me in my Maenad costume and thought I was Greek!  I am an adaptive person and despite having a pretty solid core personality, I can hang out in many different environments and fit in. I am a complex layered person. It is foolish to write me off as a slut just because you’ve heard me crack a dirty joke or have seen me in a corset. It is foolish to write me off as loud just because you’ve seen me carousing as friends. It is foolish to think I hate children or wouldn't want to be a mother because I don't have any. It is foolish to write me off as "too bawdy" or "too blunt" merely from reading my Facebook page on occasion or seeing me in "Full Moon" mode at a party!




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The absolute worst thing about being told that precisely because of this living out loud, big personality, which is only a slice of me; the reason he can not “picture growing old with me” (Fk! I wasn’t remotely thinking that far ahead) is that I, stupid me, thought that these were the things he LIKED and found attractive about me! Now, I find that I am somehow in the category of: ok to fool around with, but not the kind of girl you take home to mother or out in public.I am socially unacceptable. An inappropriate potential mate or mother of his children. I think he would defend himself and say that’s not what he really means, but that’s sure how it feels.



I don't sleep much at night. This vexation gave me plenty to do. I sat and stewed and intermittently cried. The more sat with it and stewed, the more indignant I became.  This supposedly enlightened man is playing out the classic Madonna & whore scenario. Slumming it with the great whore of Babylon while waiting to settle with a more demure socially acceptable woman with lower self esteem, choosing someone who will think he's the best thing that ever happened to her over someone who knows he isn't but might love him anyway. Meanwhile he's enjoying every moment rooting around in white trash. Admittedly, even at my most outrageous, no one would call me white trash, but that's how his words made me feel.
It’s ironic, because this person is rather steeped in self loathing. He often says he doesn't understand what I see in him. Ultimately , however,  what he is saying is that I’m not "good enough" for him.


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I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this relationship for some time now. I always thought it probably had an expiration date, honestly, I thought that I would have worked it through after a few months. But in some ways it has been an unbelievably good relationship despite its inherent complications. Friendship or romantic relationship now both seem doomed.

I process a lot through music and I’ve found it interesting that I haven’t been able to complete many of the songs I’ve started that reflect this relationship and this person. It is sort of an incomplete relationship for many reasons. He is a deeply flawed person. I see all his baggage clearly. Sometimes it breaks my heart because it’s so sad, but I care about him despite and in some cases because of it. I don’t think he understands this.

He’s often said that he has forced himself to be honest in this relationship because his history in relationships has been chronic dishonesty. This was also, part of what yanked the rug out for me last night. Here was a major thing he had NOT been honest with me about. So now I see, the honesty I have been getting comes in fragments so maybe that explains the fragments when it comes to songs. Here are two snippets of snippets. They are a metaphor for the relationship; lovely,interesting melodies, but far from completion.




This one I started to write at the beginning of our romantic relationship:

“You've hung so many veils and drawn so many curtains.
What will you do when they all fall down?
You've built so many walls and told so many stories.
You've got enough bricks here to build a town
With mortar of lies & girders of cowardice, windows that cry and doors that frown!
But somewhere inside there shines a bright candle and try as you might it will not go out!”

This, less eloquent, more recent one bubbled up 
as I have been and now know we both have been in evaluation mode:


“I don’t live here anymore I’m a stranger at my own door
Fell off the path or led astray tangled in the shades of grey
‘Til I can’t see what’s before me or what lies below me
I thought I held a simple truth ‘bout who am I and who, who are you?

I can’t go through this anymore One more breath and I am done for
Why do I keep imagining you could be a part of everything
That I’ve been wanting, but are you just a haunting
Unrealized, forsaken dream; a fantasy, if so, where are we?”

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I know I should probably not take his words so seriously or personally, especially after some of the other discussions we've had. He’s messed up emotionally. He has described himself as going through a mid-life crisis for some time now. He’s not happy with himself or his life. 

Recently, he has started to muse about children in that way people do when they are unhappy and unfulfilled and they think that a child might fill that hole. I think that he has potential to be a good father, but that he’s coming at it late and in my opinion, for all the wrong reasons.  

He’d be in his late 50’s/early 60’s when that kid becomes a teenager. There’s no one he’s in love with, right now. He doesn't really want to live with another person. His finances are already stretched and he’s resentful about several areas of his life where he is both financially and emotionally stuck in the position of caregiver. There are things he says he has a passion for that he already is too overwhelmed to spend enough time doing. He’s talked about his meticulous history of using condoms even if the woman is on birth control, both for health reasons but especially, because he didn't want the pregnancy risk. (Although he’d take total responsibility accidental pregnancy occurred) He and the only other potential baby mama in the picture are both smokers. Not good for making a healthy baby. It also increases the chances that they will be in poor health and may not be able to keep up with an active child. If there is a smoking related illness, they may not even be able to be around long for that child. 

He’s a smart person, but he’s having emotional selfish urges. Hell, I am the manifestation of one of his selfish urges. He’s soooo human. Why should I be hurt that he doesn't approve of me?

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Why? 

  • Because I believe in standing in my light but it feels like a big shadow has been cast over me and might extinguish the sun!
  • Because we can't always anticipate or control what does and doesn't slice our heart open!
  • Because I have deep loving feelings for this person. 
  • Because even though I say, we are not friends on occasion, we are. 
  • Because I thought he saw me. 
  • Because I had no idea that part of him had no respect for me, not a clue! I was totally blindsided. 
  • Because I am particularly vulnerable right now. 
Because, I find using my heart in concert with my brain to be the right and true way to find your path. I find deciding with one’s head that someone is not a good match for you or that someone else is while you discount what your heart tells you, terribly sad. There has to be a balance. Unless you are a member of a Royal Family and have committed yourself to certain obligations, choosing someone because they are the “sensible choice” is really cowardly. 




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As someone who has recently made the choice to live openly and honestly as much as possible, as someone who thought she had finally conquered the demon that is low self esteem, it floors me that I cannot just say, “wow, I’m disappointed that you haven’t bothered to get to know the whole me. I’m sad that you have this problem with honesty, are afraid to be happy and have so much fear and self hatred. I wish you were willing to heal from past wounds take a chance and open your heart. I understand why, given your history you would make the choices you've been making, but I can’t respect them.” then walk away. It’s not going to be that easy. I have a connection with this person that is different and rare. I genuinely love him. I would like to see him be happy and free to pursue his dreams. Our relationship has been a complicated one from the moment we met, long before we became lovers.

I have had a lot of relationships over the years. Some of them were abusive, really bad,  yet I have never had someone say something that made me truly feel they were ashamed of me or that I wasn't good enough for them. I guess there is a first for everything.
I'm aware as I write this that he will  likely be angry that I've spoken about this publicly. It's also likely that he will try to retract his words or tell me that I've inferred something entirely off base, that I have blown it out of proportion. He doesn't want to hurt me, after all. This is perhaps his biggest flaw, wanting so badly to avoid hurting anyone that he will inevitably end up hurting everyone. 

He told me last night that he is afraid of me.  He clearly didn't mean it in the sense of something terrible I might do to him. It seemed absurd and it wasn't clear, why exactly he is frightened of me. Men have  had reason to fear the siren as many have pointed the way to their downfall.  A person uncomfortable with honesty might fear the truth speaker. Perhaps he finds me simply unpredictable. 
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As I was driving home last night and that realization hit my gut like a fist, instead of reacting to it by processing with my own lyrics what popped into my head was Kelly Clarkson’s, “You Love Me.” Clarkson has that knack for combining a catchy melody with words that can be widely related to which is the perfect pop hit song recipe! However, she also manages to inject her music with real emotion and meaning! And this song is not in fragments, it's finished!

"You Love Me"

Thick skin, soft touch Heart of gold but it's na-na-na-not enough
Forgiving arms, the higher road Working hard but it's na-na-na-not enough

You said I'm not good enough, I'm not good enough
But what you really mean is you're not good enough, you're not good enough
You can't deliver so you turn it around...

You didn’t let me down, You didn’t tear me apart,
You just opened my eyes, While breaking my heart,

You didn’t do it for me, I’m not as dumb as you think,
You just made me cry, 

While claiming that you love me,
You love me, you love me,
You said you loved me but that
I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough..


Stronghold, but fun ride, But rollercoasters are just na-na-na-not enough,
I keep it in, you wear me out, This kind of love is na-na-na-not enough,

Said I’m just a sinking ship, I’m just a sinking ship,
But what that really means, Is you can’t handle this, you can’t handle this,

You couldn’t win so you turn it around…

You didn’t let me down, You didn’t tear me apart,
You just opened my eyes, While breaking my heart,

You didn’t do it for me, I’m not as dumb as you think,
You just made me cry, While claiming that you love me, You love me, you love me,
You said you loved me but that
I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough.

Your love feels different. It’s like a blow to the head with your compliments.
Your love hurts deeper. It’s like a brick in the sea and I’m drowning with it.


You didn’t let me down, You didn’t tear me apart,
You just opened my eyes, While breaking my heart,

You didn’t do it for me, I’m not as dumb as you think,
You just made me cry, While claiming that you love me, You love me, you love me,

You said you loved me but that I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough.

So understand it means nothing when you say you love me
When you say you love me When you say you love me You love me, you love me
You know the truth is that,
You're not good enough, you're not good enough



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Storytime

8/1/2013

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Small town girl heads for big city with even bigger dreams. Some of these big dreams get fulfilled, in spades! Small town girl who comes from small nuclear family meets boy who is a guitar player with many siblings, a racist mother and family arguments that go nuclear. Boy and girl fall in love. It’s swell or so it seems. They pop each other's cherries and plan a future together. Well, mostly the boy plans their future and the girl acquiesces though she’s squirming inside with uncertainty. After a while, the girl starts to get frustrated with the boy’s limited dreams, creepy sexual obsession with his mother, and with never being able to speak her mind because after all, she does have opinions, ideas and plans of her own. 

The girl loses her lease and moves away. She starts to pursue her own dreams again. They try a long distance relationship. The boy sends her lots of letters he thinks are full of longing, romance and sexy talk. She finds them crude, but continues to be polite. The sentiment is sweet though the execution is gross. It doesn't take long for them to drift apart. The girl suggests breaking up. The boy becomes jealous; convinced she is screwing someone else! She isn't. He attempts a sexually deviant rampage and tells her about all the groupies and the group sex he is having. The girl is not impressed. 

Soon after being confronted in front of Tower Records by the boy so that he can brag of his sexual escapades and try to discern if doing so bothers her or might win her back, the girl happens to meet the bass player of a two hit wonder new wave band. He asks her out in front of her jealous coworkers who are gobsmacked that such an unbelievably gorgeous man would want to date the girl! Some of them throw little fits! She tries not to rub it in their faces, too roughly. 

Dating the man, who is ten years older than the girl, starts slowly and surprisingly, chastely, but turns into a torrid summer affair. She’s not in love, but she’s having fun and feels totally vindicated for dumping the boy. The last night she spends with the semi-famous bass player, they make love all night, in every room of the house and in the swimming pool; eight times before the sun comes up! When it does, he confesses to her that he is leaving in a few days to propose to his high school sweetheart and he just needed to get this out of his system. She laughs and says, “So long and thanks for all the fish, then?” He gets it, and laughs too. The girl feels the effects of that long night for several days. It is visible in her gait which temporarily boasts a slightly bowlegged limp. She never sees the bass player again but she hopes his sweetheart said, yes, and is getting all the accompanying benefits.

Life goes on. Some dreams soar. Some crash to earth. A few years later she runs into THE BOY again. He seems to have come back down to earth. He has regrets. She doesn't. They reminisce. He says he never got over her. She gently says, she did. They end up in bed. Despite his tales of debauchery, he hasn't improved much between the sheets. She gives him a few pointers to which he takes enthusiastic note. 

Afterwards she gets out of bed. From the loo she hears him start to laugh, a little too loudly, clearly for effect. She knows he’ll be disappointed if she doesn't ask, “What’s so funny?” so she does. “What’s so funny?” “Oh, I was just thinking it would be hilarious if I just got up and walked out right now.” It’s probably for the best that he couldn't see the look on her face just then. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, go ahead.” The boy starts to cry. He says he’s sorry. He wants to spend the night. She tells him that’s probably not a good idea. He leaves. The girl hopes he will pull his head out of his ass one day and find what he’s looking for, but she really doesn't care if she finds out. She doesn't. Life goes on.  -LM
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