After a while, you start to notice trends about yourself, or other people start to point them out to you and make the connections. Or, rather, after a while, I've started to notice trends in my thinking and suddenly, as they're forming, other people are starting to point them out to me and make connections.
My reaction to other people feels a dichotomy of either/or: either it is an epiphany moment where "ah" I am making sense to myself again (through someone else's notice) or I reject their connections made as below me. Kind of a crappy either/or system.
What trends I have noticed, and others have pointed out to me, is that I am intensely interested in love. I am interested in love and I am interested in love relations to sexuality--and, as a subset, desire for as a result of that human sexuality. I am increasingly and intensely interested in love and sexuality. And it's seeping in, popping up, infiltrating all facets of my daily interactions.
It's fascinating. I love it. (See, it comes in everywhere.) Love, as a describable and indescribable being/feeling/thing, is something I wholeheartedly believe in, rally for, and consider and re-consider over and over. It is powerful and I don't ever want to stop thinking about it, feeling it, ruminating on it. Why would I?
Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Strawberries II
Part of the reason I like the scene with the strawberry so much is because of Alex. Our code word for "I really want to kiss you right now" is "strawberry."
In case you were wondering, we have a code word for kissing, but some people aren't down with two ladies exchanging kisses in public. I know, uncool.
Shh, don't tell!
In case you were wondering, we have a code word for kissing, but some people aren't down with two ladies exchanging kisses in public. I know, uncool.
Shh, don't tell!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Why Drag
I have been thinking a lot recently about drag, gender, and performance--singularly and in varied combination. Trained academically to believe that gender is constructed, I am pretty comfortable with the notion, theoretically, that all gender is performance. What I put on the morning, how I react in conversation, my likes and dislikes are related to a constructed gender in which I have become socially accustomed to and which on some level I choose to participate in--or, rather, to perform.
Up until a few months ago, I felt that just choosing "how girlie" to be was my choice in the daily performance of my gender. In other words, how much pink or sparkles, how many dresses or tights I chose to wore was part of that performance. I also felt that the level at which I was engaging with this "socially acceptable girlie-ness" (pink, dresses, make-up, etc.) was attributed to how much "I wanted to play along" that day (i.e. if I wasn't "playing along," I was just in jeans and a t-shirt that fit me) or how much "I was displaying the performativity of gender" (i.e. if I decided to do my hair, make-up, nails, wear heels and multiple accessories with my skirt or dress than I was obviously "performing gender" if someone really knew me at all.) These beliefs are shifting.
Segueway to London Fashion. I have become increasingly aware of the fashion industry--what's in, what's out, who's wearing what--upon moving to London. Part of this is because London is a major fashion capital and it's around. Another part of it, I think, has to do with a comment from someone I met on London Fashion. They said "London doesn't have a look. Here, anything goes." That can be said of any city really to some extent, but I have yet to pin down a specific look--other than "anything goes." Yes, there are fashion trends that are ubiquitous (huge belts, leather, demin, purple is so the fall color), but in London you can walk onto the tube, down the high street, or into a bar if you've got the confidence to pull off "your look," no one bats an eye.
This freedom of "anything goes" has been infectous when all I have to do with walk with confidence to pull it off. Fluttering, I have attempted to dabble, fashion wise, in every "genre" you can think of (and much to my amusement in getting dressed each morning).
At the same time, my interest drag king performance has heightened considerably. I became interested in performing in drag a few years ago, but lived in Santa Cruz and then LA and never felt comfortable trying to seek out a scene to try it out in. London, on the other hand, appears to have all sorts of thriving performance communities--from burlesque to drag to dance/choirs/bands/you name it. I will admit the drag queen venues far out number the drag king ones (and by that I mean there isn't a "drag king venue" I can find) but I don't feel discouraged. Another shift.
What I am realizing is that these shifts in my beliefs about my daily performance of gender (female) and my desire to perform a performance to gender (male) are becoming more and more about choice and purpose and desire. Every day, I choose how to present "who I am" to the world I interact with, and that is not a static act. When that performance is a (conscious) choice (and it isn't always), I have a purpose to explore the creativity of that performance--the textures, the colors, the styles, the walk, the feelings. And, I have a desire to explore the performance of a gender other than my daily (performed, dyanmic) one: a desire which is not solely linked to gender or sexuality; a desire to unpick automatic reactions, learned behaviour, clothing.
Up until a few months ago, I felt that just choosing "how girlie" to be was my choice in the daily performance of my gender. In other words, how much pink or sparkles, how many dresses or tights I chose to wore was part of that performance. I also felt that the level at which I was engaging with this "socially acceptable girlie-ness" (pink, dresses, make-up, etc.) was attributed to how much "I wanted to play along" that day (i.e. if I wasn't "playing along," I was just in jeans and a t-shirt that fit me) or how much "I was displaying the performativity of gender" (i.e. if I decided to do my hair, make-up, nails, wear heels and multiple accessories with my skirt or dress than I was obviously "performing gender" if someone really knew me at all.) These beliefs are shifting.
Segueway to London Fashion. I have become increasingly aware of the fashion industry--what's in, what's out, who's wearing what--upon moving to London. Part of this is because London is a major fashion capital and it's around. Another part of it, I think, has to do with a comment from someone I met on London Fashion. They said "London doesn't have a look. Here, anything goes." That can be said of any city really to some extent, but I have yet to pin down a specific look--other than "anything goes." Yes, there are fashion trends that are ubiquitous (huge belts, leather, demin, purple is so the fall color), but in London you can walk onto the tube, down the high street, or into a bar if you've got the confidence to pull off "your look," no one bats an eye.
This freedom of "anything goes" has been infectous when all I have to do with walk with confidence to pull it off. Fluttering, I have attempted to dabble, fashion wise, in every "genre" you can think of (and much to my amusement in getting dressed each morning).
At the same time, my interest drag king performance has heightened considerably. I became interested in performing in drag a few years ago, but lived in Santa Cruz and then LA and never felt comfortable trying to seek out a scene to try it out in. London, on the other hand, appears to have all sorts of thriving performance communities--from burlesque to drag to dance/choirs/bands/you name it. I will admit the drag queen venues far out number the drag king ones (and by that I mean there isn't a "drag king venue" I can find) but I don't feel discouraged. Another shift.
What I am realizing is that these shifts in my beliefs about my daily performance of gender (female) and my desire to perform a performance to gender (male) are becoming more and more about choice and purpose and desire. Every day, I choose how to present "who I am" to the world I interact with, and that is not a static act. When that performance is a (conscious) choice (and it isn't always), I have a purpose to explore the creativity of that performance--the textures, the colors, the styles, the walk, the feelings. And, I have a desire to explore the performance of a gender other than my daily (performed, dyanmic) one: a desire which is not solely linked to gender or sexuality; a desire to unpick automatic reactions, learned behaviour, clothing.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
An American Poem
...I hopped
on an Amtrak to New
York in the early
'70s and I guess
you could say
my hidden years
began. I thought
Well, I'll be a poet.
What could be more
foolish and obscure.
I became a lesbian.
Every woman in my
family looks like
a dyke but it's really
stepping off the flag
when you become one.
...
- Eileen Myles
on an Amtrak to New
York in the early
'70s and I guess
you could say
my hidden years
began. I thought
Well, I'll be a poet.
What could be more
foolish and obscure.
I became a lesbian.
Every woman in my
family looks like
a dyke but it's really
stepping off the flag
when you become one.
...
- Eileen Myles
Monday, October 12, 2009
Out & Proud
On the bus this morning, I remembered that yesterday, October 11th, was National Coming Out Day in the U.S. and I thought, 'Hey, I should change my Facebook status to "Out and Proud" when I get home." Thinking, yeah, I'm out and proud and I'd like to say it out loud!
The afternoon carried on quite nicely out of the house and away from computer, tucked in a cafe and wandering the streets of a posh area of the city. I felt much different on the bus ride home, unlocking the door, plopping down on my sofa to wet laundry in the wash and the fading light.
Out and proud, I am, but I had forgotten what a privilege it is. To be young, have accepting families and friends, inhabit a privileged body with a girlie sense of fashion, fallen in love with someone of the same sex (and be able to be with them), to be out AND proud, or proud AND out.
So what am I exactly out and proud about? Four years ago I made the decision to come out to people I met: in passing conversation, an intimate chat, a budding friendship. My decision to come out--as a bisexual, a queer woman, a fluid human being--was based on a few decisions: a) I had just moved to a new country and was living in a totally new environment and I felt b) due to my feminine appearance (a conscious performance on my part) that I would not be read as 'not-straight' unless I told people and c) I had finally figured it out and I wasn't going to back track now. I was 20 then, and it was a year for learning, a lot of learning, much of which wasn't exactly pleasant.
The decision, though, became grounded in me and I have stuck to it, almost to a fault sometimes (i.e. conversations across a pub counter), in another new country which I now inhabit. In all understandable definitions then, I am out.
Which, in turn, makes me proud of myself, for my own journey. But it is a pride in which I do not feel 'better than.' 'Out and Proud' echoes other rally cries of joining together for the cause of equality or visibility or justice. All valiant causes to be pursued vigilantly.
I do believe that if everyone everywhere who was queer stood up and was counted, without effect to their current position or family or status, it would be something to be proud about--a truth told. But it isn't always that easy--or queer-forward, if you will. Coming out is an individual decision with its own story and its own journey, and this is part of mine.
The afternoon carried on quite nicely out of the house and away from computer, tucked in a cafe and wandering the streets of a posh area of the city. I felt much different on the bus ride home, unlocking the door, plopping down on my sofa to wet laundry in the wash and the fading light.
Out and proud, I am, but I had forgotten what a privilege it is. To be young, have accepting families and friends, inhabit a privileged body with a girlie sense of fashion, fallen in love with someone of the same sex (and be able to be with them), to be out AND proud, or proud AND out.
So what am I exactly out and proud about? Four years ago I made the decision to come out to people I met: in passing conversation, an intimate chat, a budding friendship. My decision to come out--as a bisexual, a queer woman, a fluid human being--was based on a few decisions: a) I had just moved to a new country and was living in a totally new environment and I felt b) due to my feminine appearance (a conscious performance on my part) that I would not be read as 'not-straight' unless I told people and c) I had finally figured it out and I wasn't going to back track now. I was 20 then, and it was a year for learning, a lot of learning, much of which wasn't exactly pleasant.
The decision, though, became grounded in me and I have stuck to it, almost to a fault sometimes (i.e. conversations across a pub counter), in another new country which I now inhabit. In all understandable definitions then, I am out.
Which, in turn, makes me proud of myself, for my own journey. But it is a pride in which I do not feel 'better than.' 'Out and Proud' echoes other rally cries of joining together for the cause of equality or visibility or justice. All valiant causes to be pursued vigilantly.
I do believe that if everyone everywhere who was queer stood up and was counted, without effect to their current position or family or status, it would be something to be proud about--a truth told. But it isn't always that easy--or queer-forward, if you will. Coming out is an individual decision with its own story and its own journey, and this is part of mine.
Friday, May 29, 2009
June Jordan & Love
Quoting a quote from an essay I just read by Zoe Ruiz, A Fantasy of Flight:
In 'Some Of Us Did Not Die,' June Jordan wrote:
'Bisexuality means I am free and I am as likely to want to love a woman as I am likely to want to love a man, and what about that? Isn’t that what freedom implies?'
Two more women echoing what more people should know. It's just that simple.
stickerpants
In 'Some Of Us Did Not Die,' June Jordan wrote:
'Bisexuality means I am free and I am as likely to want to love a woman as I am likely to want to love a man, and what about that? Isn’t that what freedom implies?'
Two more women echoing what more people should know. It's just that simple.
*****
Also, another great representation (albeit slightly more indignant) version of the freedom to love whomever you want:
stickerpantsWednesday, May 27, 2009
On the Journey of Prop 8
Thoughts:
- The voters and the Supreme Court of California do not diminish my love for my partner.
- The law and love are unrelated.
- The Gay Rights Movement is not the same as the Civil Rights Movement; different principles, different histories, different battles. Comparisons of marriage rights are not a creative solution.
- I want to deeply question how and why I will get married/sign a civil partnership/have a commitment ceremony.
- I do not want to erase the parts of me that make me different. In fact, I want to express them even more.
- I want to be part of a movement and a campaign that unites rather than divides.
- I do not care if I am unrealistically idealistic--we do not truly know what is unrealistic.
- All of these are poems.
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