a quote..

brought to you by Mr. Henry V. Miller in a letter to Anaïs Nin in a letter dated February 21, 1939:

When I say, as I often do, that my life since twenty-one up until recently was but a detour I mean that a large part of my efforts were wasted in an unacknowledged struggle to adapt myself to the world, the final adaptation masking itself as an effort to conquer or seduce the world through my creative powers as a writer. I should have been adapting myself to myself [...]

By an unflinching regard for one’s self one gradually becomes so in harmony with the world tha the no longer has to think about his duty toward others… We imagine that that those who admire or love us do so because of our good qualities only. But more oftne than not the other person is fully aware of our frailties and is  more prepared for our misbehaviour than we ourselves are[...]

smut and free speech.

As I sit here, staring at my copy of A literate Passion: the letters of Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller 1932 – 1953, I am reminded of how Henry Miller’s books were considered so obscene that his work was banned in America until the 60′s. There is a comment on the front cover of  A literate Passion that claims that the book may “disturb some with their intimacy.” How intimacy ‘disturbs’ people, I don’t know… but I hear those feelings of passion, lust and the like, do in fact, disturb, a select few—I don’t get those people.  How does one live without passion, without lust, with out feelings of the erotic, without intimacy, and still consider themselves… human?

The first time I put images up online, back in 2000, someone complained to the website, that was hosting, the artist pages about my work. The website promptly removed most of my images. I was appalled, how could anyone get offended over a series of angels and devils?! Okay, they were all nude. My thought process of the angels and devils series was that we all hold the potential for good and we all hold the potential for evil. They’re all being angels was based on the idea that “Lucifer” was a fallen angel, but an angel none the less.

I presume, the person who had complained hadn’t studied art history too closely. Hello, Greek sculpture of gods and goddess? ideal, beauty? Like it or not, many of it was their erotic art, you can’t look at a single Greek god or goddess and tell me otherwise.

Upon receiving the news that my works had been taken off the site, I wrote to every artist on the site and told them what had happened. In a strange complement to my persuasive writing ability, one artist told me I should write an op-ed piece. Another artist told me that my work wasn’t that good. Eh, art is subjective, and I had possibly found the culprit of the complaint.

Fast forward about eight years and my first curating of what got Gallery X the most publicity we ever received for an exhibit: Sex at the X. One would think, think, that the title alone would prepare some folks for what’s in store. Just in case it didn’t, we put up signs proclaiming ‘viewer discretion advised.’ We still received angry letters and the like. There was even a local radio talk show host who talked about how offensive the show was, every single day for a week! No publicity is bad publicity.

I received an angry letter for our second bout with Sex at the X, which brought in a revenue for our gallery (in a recession!) and drew a big crowd for the opening. I guess not everyone is offended by what is a human act, human feelings: sexuality, desire, lust. If, as an artist, you can’t express such feelings and human concepts, freely, then there’s not much to paint, to sculpt, to bother with creating. And Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin would roll over in their graves, along with a host of other passionate, human, creative types.

I seen the other day an article about Johnny Weir, after some commentators had said some not so nice things about him – say what you will, the dude can skate! He didn’t demand an apology, though he deserves one. Though an apology would’ve been half-hearted, and would it truly right a wrong? No, which is probably why he didn’t demand one. This whole thing reminded me of freedom of speech and a balance of differing opinions does keep everyone on their toes, true. It still bothers me that there are those that want to revoke our freedom so that they can assert their own ignorance, close mindedness, and intolerance.

I think it makes us realize we must strongly believe in the art we put forth, for those critics (who may or may not be better than us) that will cut us down the minute they can voice an opinion, the instant you hang it on the wall, put it on a pedestal, perform it, write the words.

my diploma is collecting dust…

I could scream and cry and throw shit. I  could. I could shrug it off. I could go back to bed and sleep until the recession ends – hah! I have this sadness, like a weight on my chest. The tears want to fall and I fight the emotion with piss and vigor. I don’t want to shed anymore tears for the lost cause. What’s the point. I felt doomed on that miserably cool June morning back in 2001. Lined up like cattle to receive a piece of documentation, a hand shake, and several speakers all cheering all of our success. That piece of documentation  is collecting dust…

I guess I wanted to be Basquiat, or something to that effect. The poor, starving artist rising to fame, fortune and what constitutes as the American dream. What a dream, whirlwind, cacophony, sham the movie Basquiat puts inside my head. I feel overwhelmed in watching the movie, to the point that I can’t sit still to watch the whole thing. I’ve only been able to sit through the movie once, ever. The whole thing overwhelms me, its as if every ‘character’ in the movie is telling me, like Henry Miller to “Do something – no matter how mad, no matter how terrible! Say something to the world…” I feel at that instant that I should.

I could use some Henry Miller wisdom right now. I shouldn’t be almost choking down my dinner and milk. I shouldn’t. I’m used to the pink slips of the world. I was born rejected – I’m the underdog. I still have my health and a loving girlfriend. Though this pink slip of the world came at such a choice moment in my life! Because I was happy! And I was riding on cloud nine in love (and clearly nothing could go wrong). I was about to apply to graduate school. I was putting everything in order (finally!) to apply. I’ve been wanting to do this for five years! five years! I had to wait through my first big-girl job loss, two surgeries and thyroid cancer. I should be skipping to the post office, with manila envelope clutched tightly thinking,”here’s to my future.” My girlfriend and I should be able to celebrate when I get the acceptance letter.  Instead.. I lost yet another job (the universe is clearly trying to communicate with me – like hey asshole jump off a bridge.) and I’m back on good ole partial unemployment. Its like I’ve never left. I’ve gone full circle.

Maybe I’ll apply to grad school and hope for the best. Maybe I should run off to Paris, like Henry Miller, I have little money and little responsibilities – I should be the happiest woman alive! Why does money have to ruin everything? Or more specifically, the concept of money, it rule over us. Because that flimsy piece of paper is nothing and everything. The more of those pieces of paper you have, the more power you have, and the less you have, the more powerless you feel. The less power you feel you have, the more dejected you feel. You feel powerless to circumstances. Either way, why did have to ruin my stride?

sparkling and swooning.

I am in my reeling, stary eyed, happy place… What a grand, craptastic hot day, yet its all good (I feel like Henry Miller right now! the happiest woman alive!)… the desktop on my computer is wonderful (its the breeders), the sun outside is shining, the heat – it is all wonderful! everything just plain rocks today.

I thought to myself, while driving down Benefit St. “I wish I’d brought my camera!” Everything just looked like a perfect image. Speaking of pictures, I need to go take pictures of this church on Dexter St. in Providence. I think its a church, it kind of looks like a castle. Its looked amazing at sunset last night, but cell camera just didn’t seem like it could cut it photography wise, I really wanted my Nikon.

I bought part of my Halloween costume and its fabulous because while I do have to alter the skirt, its this fun pattern – its crazy and works perfectly for a queen of hearts costume! the pattern is going to be an over-skirt. The under-skirt part is a black kind of puffy skirt which should make the top skirt also puff out once I’m through with it. I can’t wait to wear it.. if only Halloween lasted a bit longer so one could dress up and be fun for an extra night or two.

Love, Life, Living it.

“Enjoy life. Intoxicate yourself with life. Describe it. Do not comment on it, or draw false conclusions.” Fine advice via Anaïs Nin in a letter to Henry Miller. Its easier said than done for myself and Henry Miller. I think I find myself in both of their writings. I can relate, its human, their works encompass what being human is essentially about: money, love, living, strife, struggle, and triumph. Henry Miller seemed to have the same issue with the opposite sex that I have with both sexes, that being finding someone to love. The dude had five wives (separately, he wasn’t a Mormon or anything)! On the one hand, he was in his late seventies and married to a twenty year old Japanese woman, so high-five to him for that one. On the otherhand, he really had shit for luck as well. Anyone that knows anything about him knows he lived in poverty for quite awhile and his wife, June, caused him more pain than it was worth. But that’s life and love. I think love and lack there of, is both a joy and misery of being human.

Part of me finds it odd that of all the people I meet, and I can safely say I’ve a lot of different types, I still haven’t had a significant other in years! Not because I think I’m too good to miss, I know of people who are a disgrace to humanity that can find others – they can also find good jobs, but that is another subject for another day. I’m not even talking about finding ‘the one’ that could take forever! Maybe ‘the one for right now’ is a simpler find. However, if ‘the one right now’ turns out to be ‘the one’ that would be nice as well. I may end up with five wives like Henry Miller… though by my age he was on number two so I have some catching up to do.

I guess one of my problems with love and all that is involved is the fact you can’t make a person like you. You can wish to every power in the universe for that feeling reciprocated but it doesn’t mean shit if they don’t feel the same. I know, I always seem to fall for either the ones who are oblivious to my desire or could give a flying shit. The “could give a flying shit” will at least go out with me, but they “could give a flying shit” so it doesn’t matter if I call, or they call, or they never see me again. I may go out with them for months and one day they will just up and decide, “I’m done with this..” and I never see them again! Sometimes I wonder if my desire for love is in vain. That maybe something in the universe doesn’t want me to attain it.. if there is anything – a spirit or whatnot, that has a control over us humans – it surely doesn’t like me.

I’ve always been this sort of romantic fool. I’ve always had crushes on people since I was a kid. I didn’t always admit it because one of the first ones I did confess my love to was this boy named, Peter, in my first grade class. For Valentine’s we had a party in my class complete with handing out Valentine’s to each other. My Méme used to work for this company that distributed things like Easter baskets and Valentine’s candy. She had gotten me these lollipops with matching generic Valentine’s Day cards. The lollipops said cute little sayings like: “Happy Valentine’s” and “Be Mine.” For some asinine reason, I decided to give Peter the lollipop that said, “I love you.” No one bothered to tell a first grader that this is probably a bad idea, maybe they thought he was my secret boyfriend? The kids made fun of me, of course. It didn’t stop me. I kept on keeping on. I didn’t tell anyone about crushes I had until about 7th grade, when crushes were a bit more socially acceptable… and people normally didn’t laugh at you because of it. Unless you were the boy named, Jesse, who laughed at me when everyone convinced me to ask him out because he was ‘really shy,’ but allegedly liked me. When heartbroken over him or maybe it was the other boy who rejected me when I asked him out, my Mother told me that I was too aggressive and that “boys don’t like girls like that.” Which was really bad advice. I think those boys were just pussies… its probably why I like women better as romantic partners, no woman loving woman is ‘put off’ by a girl asking her out.

The Format has a song in which the chorus goes, “I love love// I love being in love// I don’t care what it does to me!” Ain’t that the truth. I think my love of love has driven my passion for the arts, maybe I would’ve still had a passion for the arts if I consistently found love reciprocated. I suppose we’ll never know. I lose myself in music, art, and dance. They are a constant. I don’t have to worry that the paintbrushes may find me uninteresting, or that my stereo finds me moody. True I can’t really talk to them, though sometimes I do feel compelled to yell a response to a song on the radio. My neighbors must think I’m insane. However, sometimes being down on a Tuesday afternoon is really not the time to get down, everyone is at work. That is when art comes in, its around when I can’t seem to get anyone via telephone to actually talk to about why I’m happy, sad or indifferent.

In studying Erikson’s stages of development, I discover I am right in the “Intimacy vs. Isolation” stage. This is a great stage to utterly lose one’s mind. According to Mr. Erikson, at this stage I am supposed to find an intimate relationship (friendship and/or romantic) in which I simultaneously find and lose myself in. If one fails to do so, their ‘loneliness will be a dark cloud over their lives.’ Erikson’s stages of development are not exactly a laugh riot. The other stages are equally uplifting. I’m also thankful for having some good friends so I can avoid that dark cloud over the rest of my life.

After much thought about love. I have come to the conclusion that I need to still live. That searching can only take up so much of my time, much like job hunting. You will go insane looking for either, if you let it. In college, I thought that I would meet someone in college. By senior year, I assumed maybe I was meant to focus on my career and love would follow… now I’m not so sure, things seem to happen all at once for me rather than at intervals, like normal people. I’m pretty sure I may just get the big art exhibit, a job that pays the bills, and the person of my dreams all in one afternoon.