Thursday, February 21, 2013


So I was talking with an old dear friend, my sister after all these years, and I was inspired to write about some of thoughts that came up for me after our great conversation.

I really love the show Girls. I am so glad that there is a voice out there that is so contrary to this other predominant voice that tells stories about women, who look like models, and are written by men. I saw an ad for another show about a bunch of young females and I have to say I did feel repulsed by what the image, the ad, represented to me, the typical Hollywood image of a female, the hideous, actually unhuman portrayal of women that is more and more prevalent and thus more and more “the norm”. urg! There is a standard of beauty out there that is so vulgar. I have lived on the fringe of society for many years and have avoided buying in, but I feel for the girls who think that that standard is real, achievable, or even desirable.
God I love women, they are amazing and I need to see them portrayed in fair and interesting ways. God bless Lena Wertmuller, Shirley Clarke, Nicole Holofcener, Sally Potter, Miranda July, Allison Anders, Lena Dunham, Ilya Chaiken, Katrina del Mar and all the other women directing movies about women that are real, funny beautiful, great, human, alive, allowed!!

As I watch the classic cartoons with my 3 year old, I can’t help but feel annoyed that the main characters are all guys, yes there are a few interesting women leads out there, but they are far and few between. We all need to see ourselves represented fairly.

We are obligated to use our gifts and get our work out in the world. Particularly women. Lets us be seen in all our humanness, imperfections, ages, ethnicities, everything. Let us be shown multi-dimensionally. Let us tell our stories of failure and triumph, struggle and strength, pain and redemption! Let us be part of the universal story, not the fringe, not the exception. I always put my money where my mouth is and go see the female directed releases in the theatre. Ladies who are creating public work, keep up the good work, it matters, it is important, it is vital!!!

I was a radical feminist in college and I encourage women of all ages to visit that space for a bit, watch the Gloria Steinem documentary, read about Seneca falls and Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Remember that African American men were given the vote before we were. Root yourself in knowledge of the history of your sex. No one gives you equality, you take it. Never forget that.
The world can be a fucked up place and yes, I am all for creating my own reality. I do not need to live in a warzone but I still need to know my history, honor the struggle, serve my community and help lift up those below me.

There is so much more to say about this, but for now, dear ones, remember your purpose.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

don't quit before the miracle, lovers

Ah, the things we bear.
So many difficult things happen and we persevere. When it is happening to you, it feels so personal and unfair, like you are the only sucker picked to be picked on. And then a minute a day a year a decade later it ends… this too shall pass? Yes?

This time of year is so intense. My birthday, then my daughters, then my husbands, valentines day, all follow the new year, and this week marks the two year anniversary of our court battle and victory.

Anniversaries are so intense, because I do not even know it is happening but my body does. I have much muscle memory, many big feelings and grief over that almost unlivable time. But I handled it and if nothing else it taught me that we can handle ANYTHING! What ever you think you are capable of, multiply it by 1000. When you thin you cannot go on, just take another breathe, you can do anything for one more breath, and maybe one more and one more. Don’t quit before the miracle. Corny as it is, I used to see that sign spray pained on a board at Lee Strasberg Theatre Academy. What a fun time. But anyway, the pop slogan is one of the truest things ever said. You can make it if you really try.
Love on dear ones, oh and happy valentines day. Thank you world for all the gifts in my life. I love you, Tom!!

Thursday, February 7, 2013

warrior in woolworths

Fourteen. I felt like such a fraud. How could I be punk if I had not even had sex. I hadn’t even kissed a boy yet. How could I hang out with the Clash if I was a mere child. I wanted so much so fast. Oh the agony of waiting. I stood on the sand watching the pounding waves but I could not find an opening, a lull where I felt safe enough to jump in. So I just stood there, missing out on everything, watching and waiting.

And then it happened, the first kiss.
(You can read about it here 3/29/12
I have told the story before, it was indeed a hideous first kiss, but alas….a great gift, life could now officially begin.

The first guy I kissed by choice was some senior at my sister’s friend’s graduation party. I sat on this guys lap in my spandex pants and purple tiger striped v-neck tee shirt that was too big and thus, knotted on one side as a dress. I had on black stilettos and lots of eyeliner like the british punks I saw pictures of in magazines. I sat on his lap and kissed him without any self-consciousness, a little buzzed on alcohol, and thrilled that I knew how to kiss. I knew his name at the time, but have long forgotten it. I had no real interest in him. He wasn’t punk or cool, he was just a high school senior, probably on some team. He was cute enough, but no big deal.

Before the party ended he asked me on a date. I said yes. We went to the beach and I felt really uncomfortable. What were we gonna do now? He had a cassette of the sex pistols and we listened to it. I didn’t bring my bathing suit because it was still too cold to swim and it was windy and boring at the beach. I did not know why I had agreed to go. I wasn’t having fun and had literally nothing to say. Daylight and the lack of alcohol made things pretty obvious, this was not where I was supposed to be. At some point he tried to kiss me and I said that I think we should just be friends, like a real asshole. I say that with great humor. The thing was, he didn’t do any thing wrong, he just happened to be at the party and I didn’t do anything wrong, I was just being true to myself, after all, my aim was true. He drove me home annoyed and I flew out of that suffocating car and back to my little one bedroom apartment that I lived in with my mom and sister. I never saw him again. Relived and ready to go live. Viva la Vida!