Painting

I like blank canvases. A lot. I like to stare at them and think about all of the paintings I could do. Again, I'm in love with potential--perhaps more so than reality...

But I have begun painting. This is my painting so far. But I must warn you all, I have painted over about 5 images. But tonight, as I finished off the last of my Single Wine*, I decided to start posting the pics, because I think it will be fun to look at the stages of progression. Maybe you will also be entertained.

Hey, it's free! I get to post whatever I want on this damn site.

*Ttractor knows the deal.

**Oh, and that flower is just in the front of the painting. That is how I see it on my balcony.

Why I don't tell family or most friends about my blog

I should clarify below's post for you. I am not a sado-masochist. I am not horribly depressed. I am simply dealing with feelings from a recent one-night stand. Though aware that guilt is not a logically appropriate response, I can't help feeling that I've done something wrong, demeaned myself in some way, given away the milk for free when I should have held out for a pasture, or something. Puritanical upbringings suck. I'm trying to cope with the imprint left on me by a religion in which I no longer believe. Parsing out one's self from the teachings, histories, and beliefs of others is no mean feat. I was not raised in a hellfire brimstone religion, we were not a God-fearing family, we were a God-loving family. But there was still a high, sometimes absurd, moral code by which we were all expected and striving to live. Face cards were not allowed, as those were symbols of idolatry--we played Rook and Uno instead. Chess slowly eased its way into the families adhering to this belief set, but the more devout still shun this in favor of Checkers. We had not even a drop of cooking alcohol in our house. (My mouth about dropped to the floor when I saw my dad drinking win this Thanksgiving). Dancing was not prohibited that I know of, I just never saw any growing up. Anywhere. Anytime. Dirty Dancing was my first exposure to dancing, and I immediately made the link between dancing and sex--if I were to stop and think about myself mid-dance now, I would probably feel ashamed at my lascivious writhing. Thankfully, music drowns out most of my thoughts, so this rarely happens. It seems the only feeling truly free of guilt is pain. Really, listen to your gospels, read your bible, attend any Protestant church. It's the only time you're really not enjoying yourself, and it seems that what is enjoyable is most likely a sin--ah, to be home-free!

Further, while I now happily and fairly guilt-freely drink down my own wine, and play chess and poker with abandon, the attitudes regarding sex are reinforced everywhere in society. The Women's movement/Feminist movement of the 1970s did less for empowering women than the free love movement of the 60's. If your power lies in your gender, it lies in your body, and if you share your body with someone, you've shared your power. I didn't know the guy well enough the other night to be sharing my personal power...I was just enjoying making out with him. Then there are absurd psychologists and authors telling us about The Rules; if you like a guy, you should never never never go home with on the first date. Or the second date. Or fuck, until you're good and married and already pregnant with his child through some non-sex method. And why? Fuck the double-standard shit, why should it matter to me if a guy takes me home the first night we meet and vice versa? I also have the horrible feeling that it really does matter to some guys. Some? Well, most. And the guy from the other night seems to be among this set. I didn't think our sleeping together meant an upcoming walk down the aisle, but I thought my invitation to a movie was about the right pace. He freaked out and wrote immediately that "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page-I am not looking for any kind of relationship at all right now..." To see the total turn-around from flirtation and fun and having a relatively easy time of getting to know one another to...well, a complete absence of the above...Are these stupid people right? Does it matter that their arguments are logically flawed? If they've hit the coordination game, and I haven't, though I might be "right", I might as well be holding out for Betamax to beat VHS.

So, I'm tired of feeling guilty for actions I don't truly believe are sins. I'm tired of a Puritanical mindset crowding out any pleasure I might derive from my body (or someone else's). I'm tired of these issues popping up and into any relationship--or one night stand--I might have. And I'm tired of repeated confirmation that having sex with a guy really does ruin your chance to get to know him--even as a pal.

And it's woefully difficult to separate out these 'moral fibers' from the tapestry that is myself. Hell, I wonder how much would even be left of me if I could.

So, I wonder: How long does it take to wash away the sins of the church from oneself?

Sigh.

My Advisor, Joy Killer Extraordinaire, shot down my new topic..."Interesting, yes. Do-able, no." Fair enough. I have to say that I'm still pretty excited about not studying agenda control in the Senate any longer, though I am now staring down the barrel of three weeks in which all of my friends are gone off to their families, and I have nothing to do. I feel slightly excited about the prospect of a guilt-free vacation, but slightly unnerved that I'm losing three prime weeks for work to the Black Hole that is "Lack of Dissertation Topic". Hmmm. Maybe it's time to crack the white of my blank canvases, or write the story that won't pry its fingers from my brain. I just can't get the first lines out of my head:

"Shh. Eeet weel be fahn-TAH-steek. You weel lahve eet. I prroh-mees you."

Seriously. I sit at home whispering this to myself. In that strange, unplaceable accent.

If you have any burning and interesting questions about politics/political science/political economy, and you would like me to consider working on answering them, send them along, willya?

Thanks.

Oh Happy Day/ I Shall Be Released

both are excellent gospel songs, which now succinctly capture my emotions. I am being released from studying the Senate, a topic which held my interest only about as much as a crossword or sudoku puzzle, but really never held my passion. this is why i very very very rarely blog about my work, because it was boring to me into a severe depression.

i'm defending my prospectus the first week of january--the prospectus being the 60 page monstrosity on the Senate, will then crank out a few papers using the data I have toiled over, and THEN...well, I get to choose a new topic!!! My advisor is letting me choose a new topic!!! I get to study something I like!!! My brain is brimming with possibilities right now, but the sheer giddiness of the whole affair is overtaking any serious thought today. I do know that work on ethnicity, religion and politics is 'hot' right now, and both these topics are subjects I've long held dear...(or at least thought an awful lot about). good lord, send a winning lottery ticket my way and I'll just plain die of joy.

I'll keep you posted!

Fun with Old Pictures

My dad recently gotten into scanning pictures...and he has bequeathed a whole disk of his childhood to me. If you didn't know, he grew up in Africa, and these are the "cool" pictures...tomorrow, I will post the "creep-me-out-with-how-frickin-Return to Laughter -imperialistic my family looks here" pictures.


My Aunt, eating papaya.


That's my Dad to the left of my Grandma, having to pee. This has got to be the coolest family picture ever.


Sugarcane is the Nigerian Snickers...and my uncles are about to take this kid out if he doesn't share the candybar soon.



You know, most family pictures of this era are taken in front of the family car...almost all of my Dad's pics are taken on or around the family motorcycle. Which my Grandma rode. That kicks ass.

More baby pictures should be taken on motorcycle seats.