Do these three have anything in common?
They did all feature (to a greater or lesser degree) in my creative consumption of the day - watching Imagine Me & You, and Shortbus. Sadly, despite sitting through the whole of the rather clunky Imagine... just to get a taste of sapphic love (unconsummated of course), it turns out that neither of the actresses Piper Perabo or Lena Headey are officially gay 'in real life' - it always feels more gratifying or basically not such a let down when they are. Apparently Lena Headey is now married to a man after being in a 9-year relationship with another. She does have tats, but then again so does Angelina. There is however a whole sentence in the personal section of Piper's wikipedia entry noting their 'close friendship' - seems a strange thing to mention if it doesn't mean anything more? And for me, I'd find it a hell of a lot harder to get it on on camera with my female best friend (playing my lesbian lover), than with a complete stranger, unless it wasn't just a friendship....
Either way, the film didn't really work I thought - the stereotypes of the neurotic english upperclasses that seemed painfully funny in Four Weddings and a Funeral all those years ago now just seem painful. And I find it hard to feel any sympathy for people who are so obviously privileged that everything seems to fall into their lap - you don't worry for them when it all starts to go wrong as you know they'll be back on their feet - as is borne out by the film's ending. However it does have a happy ending for the girls of sorts, although a filmic depiction of happy married lesbian life is yet to be seen.
My main issue with the film's central premise - beautiful young just-married bride falls in love at first sight with her equally beautiful wedding florist, then agonises about whether to follow her heart or her loyalty - is really about just how beautiful the two women are...and how similar they look! I guess it was a trade-off - beautiful actresses can be a bit of eye-candy (for the boys too) as well as pushing forward the storyline - but in the end it got in the way for me. I'm so tired of that simpering childlike femininity as so often portrayed by Keira Knightley (who looks remarkably similar to Piper) and that jaw-dropping fragile prettiness that I've personally never seen on the streets of London. Even in Primrose Hill. But then add to that the fact that the two female protagonists looked almost identical with their wide mouths, perfect teeth, hair & bodies - is lesbian love really about f*cking your double? (ie. yourself...) The best man's speeches about shagging etc only seemed believable if you replaced every reference to 'women' with 'men' - he would have made a beautiful if egotistical (in this case) gay man about town. And as always, the words of wisdom were left to come out of the mouth of a 9-year old girl, who was about the only one who made sense in this whole thing. But for a chance to see Lena Headey in a clinch, I'm sorry to say I'd watch it again.
Shortbus is a whole different affair. I knew that when I saw it at work a few years ago that I had been struck with how wonderful it was, but I forgot why. Watching it this time, I was blown away by its artistry, bravery, unabashed glory & tenderness. The stories weave in and out of love, not-love, domination, repression, abuse, sexual pleasure, performance, joy, death. Depiction of naked rocking bodies is splashed all over the place in a way that quickly turns it into something commonplace, not voyeuristic. The heartbreaking way that a story of childhood abuse is shared from one lover to another is done so kindly, so subtly, yet so telling. And the way that one man's obsession saves another's life in more ways than one, and that this act of lifesaving in turn resuscitates his own.
And of course, there is the 'pussy parlour' which was originally the most memorable part for me, a heavily draped closeted room, separate from everyone else where women - led by Bitch and Little Prince (Daniela Sea) - sit around and talk the world into its correct dynamics. I guess I wish that room really did exist, or that I could find it. The stories of abuse touched me hard. And yet the film actually shows there could be a pathway through it for some, even if it is near-death. For the repressed woman, the final scene shows her getting down with the most beautiful, sexually-free-seeming couple - almost an Eve & Adam before they were kicked out of the story line. If that's sexual liberation, then I guess that IS what I want.
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Friday, 23 January 2009
Art Objects, Karma & Toolkits
In the West, we avoid painful encounters with art by trivialising it, or by familiarising it. Our present obsession with the past has the double advantage of making new work seem raw and rough compared to the cosy patina of tradition, whilst refusing tradition its vital connection to what is happening now. Art Objects..., Jeannette Winterston (p11)
...The calling of the artist, in any medium, is to make it new. I do not mean that in new work the past is repudiated; quite the opposite, the past is reclaimed...This is not ancestor worship, it is the lineage of art.
The true artist is after the problem. The false artist wants it solved... (p12)
The audience, who have not done the work, who have not taken any risks, whose life and livelihood are not bound up at every moment with what they are making... (p13)
..In order to keep your own world intact, you must deny the other world of the painting...True art when it happens to us, challenges the 'I' that we are...falling in love challenges the reality to which we lay claim, part of the pleasure of love andpart of its terror, is the world turned upside down. We want and don't want, the cutting edge, the upset, the new views. Mostly we work hard at taming our emotional environment just as we work hard at taming our aesthetic environment....Are we happy with all this tameness? Are you? (p15)
The media ransacks the arts, its images, in its adverts, in its copy, in its jingles, in its little tunes and journalist's jargon, it continually offers up faint shadows of the form and invention of real music, real paintings, real words. All of us are subject to this bombardment, which both deadens our sensibilities and makes us fear what is not instant, approachable, consumable.
The solid presence of art demands from us significant effort, and effort anathema to popular culture. Effort of time, effort of money, effort of study, effort of humility, effort of imagination have each been packed by the artist into the art. Is it so unreasonable to expect a percentage of that from us in return? (p16)
Naked I came into the world, but brush strokes cover me, language raises me, music rhythms me. (p20)
Who thinks, if they borrow virtual money, and in invest it in virtual funds, that they can then buy a real house? Tomasz Pietrowokowski, Karma and the Path of Meditation
...The calling of the artist, in any medium, is to make it new. I do not mean that in new work the past is repudiated; quite the opposite, the past is reclaimed...This is not ancestor worship, it is the lineage of art.
The true artist is after the problem. The false artist wants it solved... (p12)
The audience, who have not done the work, who have not taken any risks, whose life and livelihood are not bound up at every moment with what they are making... (p13)
..In order to keep your own world intact, you must deny the other world of the painting...True art when it happens to us, challenges the 'I' that we are...falling in love challenges the reality to which we lay claim, part of the pleasure of love andpart of its terror, is the world turned upside down. We want and don't want, the cutting edge, the upset, the new views. Mostly we work hard at taming our emotional environment just as we work hard at taming our aesthetic environment....Are we happy with all this tameness? Are you? (p15)
The media ransacks the arts, its images, in its adverts, in its copy, in its jingles, in its little tunes and journalist's jargon, it continually offers up faint shadows of the form and invention of real music, real paintings, real words. All of us are subject to this bombardment, which both deadens our sensibilities and makes us fear what is not instant, approachable, consumable.
The solid presence of art demands from us significant effort, and effort anathema to popular culture. Effort of time, effort of money, effort of study, effort of humility, effort of imagination have each been packed by the artist into the art. Is it so unreasonable to expect a percentage of that from us in return? (p16)
Naked I came into the world, but brush strokes cover me, language raises me, music rhythms me. (p20)
Who thinks, if they borrow virtual money, and in invest it in virtual funds, that they can then buy a real house? Tomasz Pietrowokowski, Karma and the Path of Meditation
Monday, 19 January 2009
Look at me, Listen to me, LISTEN!
The gaze entices, inspects, fascinates. The voice hypnotises, seduces, disarms. Are gaze and voice part of the relationship we call love ...or hate? If so, what part? How do they function?
I have been lifemodelling for foundation year art students today. I don't get paid very much - I think £9 per hour - I don't even know as there seemed like so much paperwork to complete to get my paycheque, for such minimal return that I haven't yet put in my hours and got paid. (this is also my money/over-magnanimous neurosis...). So I'm not doing it for the money. And its hard - its often not quite warm enough, despite heaters, and the body starts to ache or go numb in all sorts of places after 15-20 minutes of sitting without moving. And that's aside from just being there naked, with people looking, without feeling reduced to the object status that one is in that moment.
On the positive side, I've been able to hear the way they teach art at this college - its been incredible. They teach about all the universals or fundamental elements of life: colour, temperature, tone (these could have parallels in music - could music be painted in colour?), form, movement, space, activity. How we don't need to draw the edges of things, they don't actually exist - just the meeting of inner space and the space surrounding it, which we paint from the inside out. And how we can be so object-centric when often the space surrounding the object is what brings it to life, and should be given at least equal attention. I am drinking it in (when not shivering). Plus the feeling in some way of being drawn to life by so many gazes on my body, brushstrokes around my form and contours. And the feeling that in a small way I am breaking one of my barriers (see earlier post) by being able to do this at all.
I've been avidly forming connections in my mind between the art teaching and my engagement with music. Above they make the link between gaze and voice, which I guess are the active expressions of my two main areas of involvement - I want to know more (book is on its way). Voice is my big love but - also see relationship between love and hate below - I only briefly had singing lessons finally last year, and now I've stopped, so I've been wondering why.
One story that could help explain this is the metaphor of brushing hair that is taught in Shambhala. It says that when you brush your hair you don't just do it once, you start at the top and go down to the ends, and then right back up to the top again. I protested that I've found it tends to be a bit more complicated than that (and I reacted to the fact that neither of the two people who shared this story so far could have been talking from experience...one is completely bald, the other has dreadlocks!). So after doublechecking a few mornings ago, I found that the true progression for me is i) start at the top ii) quite quickly hit a knotted tangled section, particularly where I have grey hair iii) take out the comb and then work on that area from both top and bottom, finally penetrating through the knot iv) keep going down to the bottom v) then finally go back up to the top for a clear run...
From this analogy that short burst of intense diving into singing training was the beginning (and perhaps the end) of the process, but now there's all sorts of knots and tangles to work through before I get back to that simple activity. The Kodaly musicianship course and beginner music teaching are all challenging and rewarding ways to make my way through the tangles, as is the consulting and the modelling itself, before I get out of this section of wood. And I might as well enjoy the trees.
Anyway, back to the quote. I was also struck by the connection between love and hate. Mum and I just spent a day and night together, and I am thinking again that love and hate must be so intimately interwoven - why would I bother to hate someone where some kind of strong binding feelings were not already pre-existing?
...love as the mediating entity in the essential antagonism between the sexes, and gaze and voice as love's medium. The contributors (to this book on Voice & Gaze) proceed from the Lacanian premise that 'there is no sexual relationship,' that the sexes are in no way complementary and that love - figured in the gaze and the voice - embodies the promise and impossibility of any relation between them.
I particularly like this as it speaks to both the impossibility I am recognising in the relationship with mum (and know was there between her and her own mother) - I have not yet unpacked the mix of masculine/feminine energies that I believe are part of our conflict despite being mother & child but the above quote I'm sure applies - and I would like to be acknowledged is there between men & women, yet isn't because of the heterosexual ideal. If only because I certainly feel this in terms of my own relationships with both women & men. Maybe humans are in no way complementary - in the sense that we are essentially & poignantly alone?
This may explain why, on reading a small titivating piece in the Metro today on a woman who likes to dress herself up as 'Cute Puppy' and be discplined by her master 'Sir Guy Masterleigh', I found the whole situation made me feel a bit...err...excited. I normally wouldn't even let myself think about anything that connects the worlds of sexual fantasy and animals, having put in a mental 'site blocked' message, but this seemed different... For one, as stated in the article, it could be seen as simply an opportunity for humans to safely play out subordinate/dominant roles which people are in fact doing in relationships all the time - why not have fun with it?
For me, it was refreshing to escape (in my mind) the usual feminine/masculine spin there always is for me - and not the 'dominatrix' way around, but the other. I even had a little bit of fun of my own when I got back home on the back of this, but concluded yet again that when it gets to the point of possible penetration (although somewhat ashamed, I have to protest that those new phallicly-tapered roll-on deodorants even look like a dildo, maybe I'm not alone...?) it makes it all happen faster, somewhat more uncomfortably (ok, I know...), just too much. I don't want it. I know that two women having sex can involve all sorts of penetration, but maybe I'll never make a great sapphist either. And I can see that two body parts uniting/merging could be a mindblowing act, but maybe I'm just not ready? I'm only 32.
...the conflict between the sexes is the site of a larger battle over the destiny of modernity.
And maybe that's why it feels such a conflict, after all.
I have been lifemodelling for foundation year art students today. I don't get paid very much - I think £9 per hour - I don't even know as there seemed like so much paperwork to complete to get my paycheque, for such minimal return that I haven't yet put in my hours and got paid. (this is also my money/over-magnanimous neurosis...). So I'm not doing it for the money. And its hard - its often not quite warm enough, despite heaters, and the body starts to ache or go numb in all sorts of places after 15-20 minutes of sitting without moving. And that's aside from just being there naked, with people looking, without feeling reduced to the object status that one is in that moment.
On the positive side, I've been able to hear the way they teach art at this college - its been incredible. They teach about all the universals or fundamental elements of life: colour, temperature, tone (these could have parallels in music - could music be painted in colour?), form, movement, space, activity. How we don't need to draw the edges of things, they don't actually exist - just the meeting of inner space and the space surrounding it, which we paint from the inside out. And how we can be so object-centric when often the space surrounding the object is what brings it to life, and should be given at least equal attention. I am drinking it in (when not shivering). Plus the feeling in some way of being drawn to life by so many gazes on my body, brushstrokes around my form and contours. And the feeling that in a small way I am breaking one of my barriers (see earlier post) by being able to do this at all.
I've been avidly forming connections in my mind between the art teaching and my engagement with music. Above they make the link between gaze and voice, which I guess are the active expressions of my two main areas of involvement - I want to know more (book is on its way). Voice is my big love but - also see relationship between love and hate below - I only briefly had singing lessons finally last year, and now I've stopped, so I've been wondering why.
One story that could help explain this is the metaphor of brushing hair that is taught in Shambhala. It says that when you brush your hair you don't just do it once, you start at the top and go down to the ends, and then right back up to the top again. I protested that I've found it tends to be a bit more complicated than that (and I reacted to the fact that neither of the two people who shared this story so far could have been talking from experience...one is completely bald, the other has dreadlocks!). So after doublechecking a few mornings ago, I found that the true progression for me is i) start at the top ii) quite quickly hit a knotted tangled section, particularly where I have grey hair iii) take out the comb and then work on that area from both top and bottom, finally penetrating through the knot iv) keep going down to the bottom v) then finally go back up to the top for a clear run...
From this analogy that short burst of intense diving into singing training was the beginning (and perhaps the end) of the process, but now there's all sorts of knots and tangles to work through before I get back to that simple activity. The Kodaly musicianship course and beginner music teaching are all challenging and rewarding ways to make my way through the tangles, as is the consulting and the modelling itself, before I get out of this section of wood. And I might as well enjoy the trees.
Anyway, back to the quote. I was also struck by the connection between love and hate. Mum and I just spent a day and night together, and I am thinking again that love and hate must be so intimately interwoven - why would I bother to hate someone where some kind of strong binding feelings were not already pre-existing?
...love as the mediating entity in the essential antagonism between the sexes, and gaze and voice as love's medium. The contributors (to this book on Voice & Gaze) proceed from the Lacanian premise that 'there is no sexual relationship,' that the sexes are in no way complementary and that love - figured in the gaze and the voice - embodies the promise and impossibility of any relation between them.
I particularly like this as it speaks to both the impossibility I am recognising in the relationship with mum (and know was there between her and her own mother) - I have not yet unpacked the mix of masculine/feminine energies that I believe are part of our conflict despite being mother & child but the above quote I'm sure applies - and I would like to be acknowledged is there between men & women, yet isn't because of the heterosexual ideal. If only because I certainly feel this in terms of my own relationships with both women & men. Maybe humans are in no way complementary - in the sense that we are essentially & poignantly alone?
This may explain why, on reading a small titivating piece in the Metro today on a woman who likes to dress herself up as 'Cute Puppy' and be discplined by her master 'Sir Guy Masterleigh', I found the whole situation made me feel a bit...err...excited. I normally wouldn't even let myself think about anything that connects the worlds of sexual fantasy and animals, having put in a mental 'site blocked' message, but this seemed different... For one, as stated in the article, it could be seen as simply an opportunity for humans to safely play out subordinate/dominant roles which people are in fact doing in relationships all the time - why not have fun with it?
For me, it was refreshing to escape (in my mind) the usual feminine/masculine spin there always is for me - and not the 'dominatrix' way around, but the other. I even had a little bit of fun of my own when I got back home on the back of this, but concluded yet again that when it gets to the point of possible penetration (although somewhat ashamed, I have to protest that those new phallicly-tapered roll-on deodorants even look like a dildo, maybe I'm not alone...?) it makes it all happen faster, somewhat more uncomfortably (ok, I know...), just too much. I don't want it. I know that two women having sex can involve all sorts of penetration, but maybe I'll never make a great sapphist either. And I can see that two body parts uniting/merging could be a mindblowing act, but maybe I'm just not ready? I'm only 32.
...the conflict between the sexes is the site of a larger battle over the destiny of modernity.
And maybe that's why it feels such a conflict, after all.
A Voice and Nothing More, by Mladen Dolar - Synopsis
Plutarch tells the story of a man who plucked a nightingale and finding but little to eat exclaimed: "You are just a voice and nothing more." Plucking the feathers of meaning that cover the voice, dismantling the body from which the voice seems to emanate, resisting the Sirens' song of fascination with the voice, concentrating on "the voice and nothing more": this is the difficult task that philosopher Mladen Dolar relentlessly pursues in this seminal work.
The voice did not figure as a major philosophical topic until the 1960s, when Derrida and Lacan separately proposed it as a central theoretical concern. In A Voice and Nothing More Dolar goes beyond Derrida's idea of "phonocentrism" and revives and develops Lacan's claim that the voice is one of the paramount embodiments of the psychoanalytic object (objet a). Dolar proposes that, apart from the two commonly understood uses of the voice as a vehicle of meaning and as a source of aesthetic admiration, there is a third level of understanding: the voice as an object that can be seen as the lever of thought. He investigates the object voice on a number of different levels—the linguistics of the voice, the metaphysics of the voice, the ethics of the voice (with the voice of conscience), the paradoxical relation between the voice and the body, the politics of the voice—and he scrutinizes the uses of the voice in Freud and Kafka. With this foundational work, Dolar gives us a philosophically grounded theory of the voice as a Lacanian object-cause.
Mladen Dolar taught for 20 years in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Ljubljana, Slovenia, where he now works as a Senior Research Fellow. He is the author of a number of books, most recently (with Slavoj Zizek) Opera’s Second Death.
The voice did not figure as a major philosophical topic until the 1960s, when Derrida and Lacan separately proposed it as a central theoretical concern. In A Voice and Nothing More Dolar goes beyond Derrida's idea of "phonocentrism" and revives and develops Lacan's claim that the voice is one of the paramount embodiments of the psychoanalytic object (objet a). Dolar proposes that, apart from the two commonly understood uses of the voice as a vehicle of meaning and as a source of aesthetic admiration, there is a third level of understanding: the voice as an object that can be seen as the lever of thought. He investigates the object voice on a number of different levels—the linguistics of the voice, the metaphysics of the voice, the ethics of the voice (with the voice of conscience), the paradoxical relation between the voice and the body, the politics of the voice—and he scrutinizes the uses of the voice in Freud and Kafka. With this foundational work, Dolar gives us a philosophically grounded theory of the voice as a Lacanian object-cause.
Mladen Dolar taught for 20 years in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Ljubljana, Slovenia, where he now works as a Senior Research Fellow. He is the author of a number of books, most recently (with Slavoj Zizek) Opera’s Second Death.
Being transgender...
...is the only minority in which 99% of the time you manifest against the wishes of your family. So it's obviously a very strong impulse, because in this heterosexist society there's not a lot of room for breaking rank. Antony (of Antony & the Johnsons)
I liked his special slant on transgenderism, for the fact that it honours how hard going against your family line can be. I'm often dismayed at how little courage I can seem to muster to make even the smallest statements that could evoke a reaction from those around me. I look in wonder at people who were utter pioneers, and endured attack or even death. I do mundane things like leave my legs (and the rest of my body) unshaven and even then I can't bear to let my bare hairy legs be on display. Social forces to me seem so strong, no matter how much I keep trying to fight them, and I'm in awe of those who flout them with gay abandon, or brave perseverance.
Antony graduated from playing nightclubs to putting on plays in more conventional spaces with his new theatre group the Johnsons. By the middle of the decade, however, "it became clear that there wasn't any support for that kind of work. Also I'd been waiting for someone to discover me, and it didn't happen. I got this one grant and I thought, 'This is my ticket out – I'm gonna make an album.'"
And I liked this mixture of creative cross-pollination and pragmatism. It speaks to things I would like to do, and also reminds me that the space may not yet be receptive to them at a certain point in time.
I came across these quotes while trying to find out what Antony meant when he said he was transgender. Did it mean he was born biologically a girl, or what? (I mean he does look quite girl-like in the photos...) But of course its the other way around - my pop culture knowledge as always is somewhat limited, as I'd never seen him sing etc. I think I'm still thrown by my experiences during the London Transgender Film Festival, where I was convinced I would know who was what etc and of course this didn't happen at all. Some of the transgender blokes were more disruptive than the men who would be hanging around outside when we left work each night - I guess I might want to enjoy taking up the airspace/physical space if I were doing the same. (but back to the lack of nerve again...)
While finding out about Antony, I also listened to CocoRosie again, and Devendra Banhart. The main thing I noticed was the preparedness to use the voice in all its tremulous glory, with the full diverse range of the instrument which made it feel like soul was speaking out, freely by having this eclectic use of the body. The CocoRosie sisters have had a hard-to-believe life, and the way they perform themselves with such arresting songs, it feels like the thing they just have to do. I admire this, I want to notice enough that pushing in myself also. Also, they would let the voices move over really quite simple backing parts, which is what I often feel to do, but then reject as it seems too simple...
'You gay?' 'Oh, I wouldn't say I was gay. I'd just say I was enchanted.' from Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown. I haven't read it but I like the title, although disenchanted is probably closer to what I feel right now.
I have been interested to note how intimately linked my own attempts at gender-selfcreation are to my relationship with my parents (surprise!), most obviously - but not only perhaps - with my mum. Within 2 hours of the painful end to a lovely and torturous 24 hr visit from said parent I had cut my hair off aiming to achieve the desired/feared short-cut, and spent £40 in the joy sale on men's clothing (ok, a cute small t-shirt picturing a candy-coloured synthesiser and an oversized turquoise boy-jumper...). It felt like an almost total reversal from female to male in a way, as I tried to shed my real mother at the same time. There is a lot I appear to hate about having the female identity foisted onto me, and a lot I may manifest internally of the male, but this doesn't go as far as how I present myself these days - perhaps spending all of my childhood looking like a boy took its toll. I'm scared. I think it will be too much. Or maybe I don't want to give up the power that comes with performing the female. Anyway my main objective was to finally go back to work and feel like I was ok, I fitted in (to its lesbian-predominant environment), and I looked like things had positively changed for me in my absence/avoidance since I left. Plus the possibility of seeing the ex-girlfriend gave it a certain heightened energy of anticipation/fear.
As before with the party last month where I deliberated for ages/was about to turn back and then when I finally arrived there was no-one there I knew (a relief! I just got on with dancing...), the party was pretty quiet by the time I got there, and although everything looked the same it felt like a completely different space to where I once had been. The first friend I met in the toilets on my arrival noted my haircut but felt that the back had been let a little long....but it was improvement on my last attempt. I could see what she meant but it kind of summed it up. My main agenda has been to stop looking like a middle-aged serious woman, and yet I can run but I can't hide... That coupled with the wall-to-wall mirror in our bar and my extra weight (which has been drawn in every curving, rolling, extra inch and then some by the drawing students) stimulated in me a degree of self-hatred which was hard to stomach.
I'm addicted to looking at myself in mirrors anyway, so there were a number of sneaky glances followed by feelings of shame. In the end I just had to turn round. The dancing was mellow and fun if I didn't think about how I thought I appeared. Girls danced, chatted, the usual ones flirted which hurt sometimes, everything seemed to be going on around me but I felt like I was not involved. I think I just have to accept that this hatred, this not fitting in, this view of myself is in my head, not out there, and no matter what I do on the external level it will continue to follow me around... I did have some lovely conversations with the ex, as usual going on into the early hours of the morning with that torn feeling of wanting to go and needing to stay. We're quite similar in some ways, and although it can quickly go downhill, it feels like there are things that we need from each other, even if they can't truly be provided... She is the only one I feel I can really talk to in fact.
The overall picture that I discovered with regard to the relationship with my parents, and the one with myself (and hence the men & women I meet) is of desire for/fear of emotional unavaibility/intellectual stimulus/domination of the self (my mother) and desire for attention that's actually present/lack of interest as things progress (my dad). And that coupled with a solitary strong will but in a group, passivity. So given I would never take the real initiative I end up flirting with men to meet my needs there, which often leads on to the something more I don't want. And questing after unavailable women who I often get to have on an intellectual/ideas or supportive level but nothing more - and I wouldn't dream of asking. Ouch.
The question now is whether training in psychotherapy and applied feminist philosophy, learning to be a music & voice teacher or doing a PhD in feminist musicology (in addition to deepening the buddhist practice) are going to best allow me to exist in the next few years given that the avenues of family, relationships and friends all seem to need a bit of space?
The good news is that in order to manifest real change, vision and realism are needed in equal measure. Letting go of our own insecurities opens the way for realization of Aquarius’ greatest desire: selfless gifting of personal talent for the betterment of all peoples around the world. This can be deeply emotionally satisfying, especially for the intense, hardworking energies of Aquarius and Capricorn. Aquarius is all about the “power of one” to change the circumstances of the many; Aquarian success comes from connecting to the needs of your generation and making your life a testament to upliftment.
And tonight I danced, just for me - in the meditation centre, to Fleetwood Mac. I flew. And drank cheap wine afterwards when I got home which was surprisingly good. During the day I had drawn pictures, led an orchestra and played the bagpipes, plus finally escaped the feeling of heavy-weighted duties and tasks for a few hours when I got home - partly by having 'completed' most of them. Now I feel drunk, tired...but so lucky.
I liked his special slant on transgenderism, for the fact that it honours how hard going against your family line can be. I'm often dismayed at how little courage I can seem to muster to make even the smallest statements that could evoke a reaction from those around me. I look in wonder at people who were utter pioneers, and endured attack or even death. I do mundane things like leave my legs (and the rest of my body) unshaven and even then I can't bear to let my bare hairy legs be on display. Social forces to me seem so strong, no matter how much I keep trying to fight them, and I'm in awe of those who flout them with gay abandon, or brave perseverance.
Antony graduated from playing nightclubs to putting on plays in more conventional spaces with his new theatre group the Johnsons. By the middle of the decade, however, "it became clear that there wasn't any support for that kind of work. Also I'd been waiting for someone to discover me, and it didn't happen. I got this one grant and I thought, 'This is my ticket out – I'm gonna make an album.'"
And I liked this mixture of creative cross-pollination and pragmatism. It speaks to things I would like to do, and also reminds me that the space may not yet be receptive to them at a certain point in time.
I came across these quotes while trying to find out what Antony meant when he said he was transgender. Did it mean he was born biologically a girl, or what? (I mean he does look quite girl-like in the photos...) But of course its the other way around - my pop culture knowledge as always is somewhat limited, as I'd never seen him sing etc. I think I'm still thrown by my experiences during the London Transgender Film Festival, where I was convinced I would know who was what etc and of course this didn't happen at all. Some of the transgender blokes were more disruptive than the men who would be hanging around outside when we left work each night - I guess I might want to enjoy taking up the airspace/physical space if I were doing the same. (but back to the lack of nerve again...)
While finding out about Antony, I also listened to CocoRosie again, and Devendra Banhart. The main thing I noticed was the preparedness to use the voice in all its tremulous glory, with the full diverse range of the instrument which made it feel like soul was speaking out, freely by having this eclectic use of the body. The CocoRosie sisters have had a hard-to-believe life, and the way they perform themselves with such arresting songs, it feels like the thing they just have to do. I admire this, I want to notice enough that pushing in myself also. Also, they would let the voices move over really quite simple backing parts, which is what I often feel to do, but then reject as it seems too simple...
'You gay?' 'Oh, I wouldn't say I was gay. I'd just say I was enchanted.' from Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown. I haven't read it but I like the title, although disenchanted is probably closer to what I feel right now.
I have been interested to note how intimately linked my own attempts at gender-selfcreation are to my relationship with my parents (surprise!), most obviously - but not only perhaps - with my mum. Within 2 hours of the painful end to a lovely and torturous 24 hr visit from said parent I had cut my hair off aiming to achieve the desired/feared short-cut, and spent £40 in the joy sale on men's clothing (ok, a cute small t-shirt picturing a candy-coloured synthesiser and an oversized turquoise boy-jumper...). It felt like an almost total reversal from female to male in a way, as I tried to shed my real mother at the same time. There is a lot I appear to hate about having the female identity foisted onto me, and a lot I may manifest internally of the male, but this doesn't go as far as how I present myself these days - perhaps spending all of my childhood looking like a boy took its toll. I'm scared. I think it will be too much. Or maybe I don't want to give up the power that comes with performing the female. Anyway my main objective was to finally go back to work and feel like I was ok, I fitted in (to its lesbian-predominant environment), and I looked like things had positively changed for me in my absence/avoidance since I left. Plus the possibility of seeing the ex-girlfriend gave it a certain heightened energy of anticipation/fear.
As before with the party last month where I deliberated for ages/was about to turn back and then when I finally arrived there was no-one there I knew (a relief! I just got on with dancing...), the party was pretty quiet by the time I got there, and although everything looked the same it felt like a completely different space to where I once had been. The first friend I met in the toilets on my arrival noted my haircut but felt that the back had been let a little long....but it was improvement on my last attempt. I could see what she meant but it kind of summed it up. My main agenda has been to stop looking like a middle-aged serious woman, and yet I can run but I can't hide... That coupled with the wall-to-wall mirror in our bar and my extra weight (which has been drawn in every curving, rolling, extra inch and then some by the drawing students) stimulated in me a degree of self-hatred which was hard to stomach.
I'm addicted to looking at myself in mirrors anyway, so there were a number of sneaky glances followed by feelings of shame. In the end I just had to turn round. The dancing was mellow and fun if I didn't think about how I thought I appeared. Girls danced, chatted, the usual ones flirted which hurt sometimes, everything seemed to be going on around me but I felt like I was not involved. I think I just have to accept that this hatred, this not fitting in, this view of myself is in my head, not out there, and no matter what I do on the external level it will continue to follow me around... I did have some lovely conversations with the ex, as usual going on into the early hours of the morning with that torn feeling of wanting to go and needing to stay. We're quite similar in some ways, and although it can quickly go downhill, it feels like there are things that we need from each other, even if they can't truly be provided... She is the only one I feel I can really talk to in fact.
The overall picture that I discovered with regard to the relationship with my parents, and the one with myself (and hence the men & women I meet) is of desire for/fear of emotional unavaibility/intellectual stimulus/domination of the self (my mother) and desire for attention that's actually present/lack of interest as things progress (my dad). And that coupled with a solitary strong will but in a group, passivity. So given I would never take the real initiative I end up flirting with men to meet my needs there, which often leads on to the something more I don't want. And questing after unavailable women who I often get to have on an intellectual/ideas or supportive level but nothing more - and I wouldn't dream of asking. Ouch.
The question now is whether training in psychotherapy and applied feminist philosophy, learning to be a music & voice teacher or doing a PhD in feminist musicology (in addition to deepening the buddhist practice) are going to best allow me to exist in the next few years given that the avenues of family, relationships and friends all seem to need a bit of space?
The good news is that in order to manifest real change, vision and realism are needed in equal measure. Letting go of our own insecurities opens the way for realization of Aquarius’ greatest desire: selfless gifting of personal talent for the betterment of all peoples around the world. This can be deeply emotionally satisfying, especially for the intense, hardworking energies of Aquarius and Capricorn. Aquarius is all about the “power of one” to change the circumstances of the many; Aquarian success comes from connecting to the needs of your generation and making your life a testament to upliftment.
And tonight I danced, just for me - in the meditation centre, to Fleetwood Mac. I flew. And drank cheap wine afterwards when I got home which was surprisingly good. During the day I had drawn pictures, led an orchestra and played the bagpipes, plus finally escaped the feeling of heavy-weighted duties and tasks for a few hours when I got home - partly by having 'completed' most of them. Now I feel drunk, tired...but so lucky.
Sunday, 18 January 2009
We know what you want...
...says the strapline above the girl in the magazine, and she looks like she does - more than I do. My favourite quote lately has been 'save me from what I want', which - given that what I think I want usually turns into a very nightmare, and the most rewarding moments from things I didn't think I wanted at all -rings true.
Luckily my kind hairdresser dissuaded me today from the fringed & flicked haircut that looked lovely on size 6 paleskinned Vera (Storm Model in a magazine photoshoot), but - without a hairdrier and permanently on-hand stylist - was unlikely to look any good on me. I ended up with the usual short bob which hopefully looks suitably gender-indefinable (sounds like me), but not so much that I lose my nerve completely.
Anyway, have to get my beauty sleep before lifemodelling tomorrow, plus finish my amazon order of a few films that fit the haircut description above. Back soon I hope. Ax
Luckily my kind hairdresser dissuaded me today from the fringed & flicked haircut that looked lovely on size 6 paleskinned Vera (Storm Model in a magazine photoshoot), but - without a hairdrier and permanently on-hand stylist - was unlikely to look any good on me. I ended up with the usual short bob which hopefully looks suitably gender-indefinable (sounds like me), but not so much that I lose my nerve completely.
Anyway, have to get my beauty sleep before lifemodelling tomorrow, plus finish my amazon order of a few films that fit the haircut description above. Back soon I hope. Ax
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