Steps, Rails, Chain Link Fence, Green

Steps, Rails, Chain Link Fence, Green, originally uploaded by madduane.

There are paths forward, there are ways upward, there are always obstacles. There is always a way around any obstacle, and once you find your way around the obstacles, you can find yourself in a lovely green world.

Concrete enough description? I think so.

12/22/10 The Vlog Before Christmas!

vlog 12/17/10

I did this one more show & go style, because I don't have the kind of time I'd like to have to make these. Basically, it's life stuff. Enjoy!

vlog 12/10/10

From A Thread On Facebook

Tonight I figured out that my childhood development teacher pretty much doesn't believe there is such a thing as an innate gender identity. She was teaching us gender theory, which she completely subscribes to, which teaches that with a few minor exceptions related to reproduction, all gender differences are cultural.

I believed that for a long time, my own feelings to the contrary, which is why it took me so long to transition. Ultimately, though, I had to figure out why I was so depressed, why my life was so messed up, and why I couldn't let the idea that I should be female go, reason and physical evidence to the contrary. Gender does matter, and we are innately one gender or another, beyond what our genitals tell us.

Steve Well, there's no known biological pathway between actual gender and gender identity, other than experience. That doesn't mean that feeling innately of a given identity is an illusion, how, what, where, why and who we feel we are is the very essence of how we identify.

In short, bloody social scientists. Always trying to isolate the social/experiential from the scientific/rational, when to succeed at that would mean the very end of their discipline :-/

Maggie Does she know about David Reimer? Because if she does and she still believes that, she's an idiot. If she doesn't, maybe you should point her at his story.

Cherri I was going to mention David Reimer. Your childhood development teacher is wrong.

Diane Maggie -- somebody poorly described David's situation to her (didn't really have the facts down correctly) but understood well enough to get the essential point across to her and she was dismissive: "Oh, yes, some people are born with ambiguous genitalia." By that time I was already so upset that I couldn't have talked rationally, so I said nothing, which of course I regret.

She's not an idiot (she is wrong, though), she's very intelligent and very well informed, most ways. My view is that she's a first-wave feminist (she is a good friend of the woman who did "Our Bodies, Our Selves," latest edition of which is exhaustive on women's issues, with the notable exception of which unmentioned topic, do you think?) And "gender theory" as described above is the first-approximation response to male oppression, which she and her contemporaries have elevated to the level of religious faith. My question now is whether it's worth my time and trouble to try to "raise her consciousness" some, or if she's hardened her world view so much that I'm wasting my time. I saw ample evidence last night that she would be a very tough nut to crack.

Ingrid When I was pregnant with Luke and buying pink-clad baby dolls for him in an effort to provide him with something broader than our predefined gender roles, I thought of gender as having a larger cultural component. Within a few years after his birth -- when he had only ~ten recognizable words and ~eight of them were for various types of vehicles, and could turn just about anything he laid his hands on (twig, pizza crust) into a blaster weapon -- I began thinking of gender as more innate. (I tend to think of gender now as existing on a spectrum, a messy froth of biology, personality, and culture.)

I walked into the library this morning and saw one of Luke's papers on the floor. In big letters he had written, "Boys have penises. Girls have vaginas." And like everything else when you're watching children beginning to work things out, you can't help thinking, "Enjoy your simple black-and-white concepts of the world while they last, kiddo, because it all just gets soooooo much more complex from here on out."

Chris I'd say you would be wasting your time. If she were a close friend or family, it would be worth it. I know I'll likely get shouted down, but sometimes it's best to parrot back responses idiots expect, get your good grade, and move on. Perhaps comment on the eval at the end of the class that she doesn't seem to be current on key developments in her field.

Diane Ingrid -- my ideas about gender are pretty much the same. Gender is a very complex part of who we are. One thing I really appreciate is knowing that you are very enlightened about this subject and seeing through the interwebs how you and Jeff embrace Luke for who he is so completely and appreciatively.

Chris -- yep, that's the other alternative. The problem I'm having is that I feel so strongly that transpeople everywhere are my family. I worry for everyone who comes along after me who has to face these same prejudices. Not addressing this is also a way of swallowing more of the pigshit I've allowed myself to ingest on this subject my whole life. It's very personal and hurtful to me. Whatever else happens, there is no way I can envision saying the awful things about myself that she believes for the sake of a grade. Luckily, the way the final for this class is structured, I never have to say a word about gender theory if I don't want to.

I do want to post this whole thread as an entry on my blog (if that's not OK with you, let me know & I'll delete your comments @ the blog) and perhaps what I will do is wait until I have my final grade and then send her an email with some links, including one to the blog post.

Chris Diane, it might be worth discussing the matter with her in a private conference. If it's not her primary area of focus, she might honestly be ignorant on the topic and how it's perceived in the transgender community. If you meet with her in private and explain how and why her treatment of the topic hurts you, she can't argue with that. You feel how you feel -- it's not subject to debate. I wouldn't wait until you have your final grade. If it hurts you now, bring it up now.

I'm not really in tune with the topic myself, but if what she's teaching is just one of several viable theories, encourage her to give all the theories some attention. Move from "this is how it is" to "here are several theories about how it is". You could also write to the department chair and ask for the curriculum to be revised. That might get a bit more attention than just writing it on the course eval.

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song VIII -- Everything Turns Out OK

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

This is the wrap-up! I felt like I'd been to the darker places in my psyche for the better part of the month, it was time to put a bow on it, ship it off and move on to the next thing. Little nod to my friend Josh Russell at the end of the bridge (the extended last chord in a section is something that always makes me think of him) bigger nod to my sweetie as a second verse. This is one of the more listened-to songs from the album, so there's something to feel good about!

There are two more songs from this project at my macidol page that are both good things, just not the central pieces of the record for me. An a capella piece called "seven ways" that I like as well as anything else on this record, and a cowrite with my friend PJ that is lyrically a little weak (something had to be, I wrote ten songs in 28 days!) but has some of my best harmony singing on it. There's a whole slew of other recordings there, across a whole wide range of styles. Most of it is downloadable and all of it is free. Check it out, and thanks for listening to all of these tracks.

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song VII -- Sand

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

Next to last one! It's the melodrama song of the set! You know what, though? I love it; I feel like it's one of my better songs. It's dark & despairing, but it has some really nice turns of phrase and I think it's a good vocal performance.

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song VI -- Waxahatchee (new mix)

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

This song was generated as a nonsense poem for a usenet group dedicated to nonsequitur. The central character is a cow, in case you were wondering. The lyrics for several of the songs for this project began as automatic writing, and somehow ended up being more than that. This is the one place where my (at that point unacknowledged) transgender-ness pops up. Which is in keeping, I guess. Always somewhere in the back of my mind was the idea that somehow I could maintain my female identity as a kind of secret alter-ego. It would show up just like this one. At this time in my life, however, I was having a lot of trouble dealing with it. All the depression and anger that were fueling the songs on this record, so many uncomfortable things about my life coming to an ultimate point, and underlying all of them the feeling that I was living the wrong life. Within a few months of completing this record, I would realize that I had to do something or things were going to get much worse for me.

Deadman Turner once again brings up the quality and the fun quotient of the track about 100% with his guitar work.

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song V -- Kamakura

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

This is the first song I wrote and recorded for the project. I felt that I had to start from faith, and that meant a lot of different things to me. I knew I was going to be writing about my life, either directly or indirectly, and as a Nichiren Buddhist, I understand Nam Myoho Renge Kyo as being life itself. So I began from the notion that whatever struggles I face, I have a place to go to refresh my spirit, and a source of power for change. I felt free to just lay my cards on the table, and talk about where I was & where I was going. I also felt like I was making the determination to see the project of writing these ten songs through.

"Kamakura" refers to a city in Japan, and is a reference to a quote from a letter written by the priest Nichiren Daishonin to a follower to encourage them not to give up: "Be diligent in developing your faith until the last moment of your life. Otherwise you will have regrets. For example, the journey from Kamakura to Kyoto takes twelve days. If you travel for eleven but stop with only one day remaining, how can you admire the moon over the capital?" (Letter to Niike).

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song IV -- The Things I Didn't Do

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

This is one of two songs from this collection of songs that feature Deadman Turner on lead guitar.

This one is exploring the self destructive side of my imagination. Once again, we return to the feeling of being trapped, and the cost of getting free. What do you think: is the feeling at the ending of this song scary or hopeful?

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon, Song III -- Bills Come Due

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

Kind of a party song, with the requisite "I'm doing something I shouldn't" edginess. It's a Bakersfield-style rave-up that would have been at home on Trax on Wax 4, at least that's how I intended it. It's definitely a Friday night song!

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon. Song II -- 2007

Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

This song is central to the experience of the record. Minimalist 2-chord structure meant to evoke a kind of desperate monotony. Amped up, charging around in a too-small cage is how I pictured it. The solo was intended to evoke an ambulance siren. Lyrically, it seems like a series of random observations, but isn't. It's a certain brand of punk rock broadside, following the tradition of Iggy & The Stooges (1969 1970), The Clash (1977) and others. As I believe is true with those songs, the observation points both ways: both out into the world and inside me. I envision a sort of shell game. As I examine each factoid, whether cosmic or completely mundane or somewhere in between, I was asking myself, "Is this it? Is this why I am so full of angst?" Connect the dots, indeed.

Blogging Fuyu Persimmon. Song I -- Goodbye

I am blogging the tracks for my 2007 RPM Challenge album Fuyu Persimmon. I am really proud of this record, and have since realized that I was struggling with major life issues that informed the songwriting and the performances.


Visit madduane's Site At
http://macidol.com
For More Music

I'm starting with "the single." This was the track that was played at the RPM meet-up in Portsmouth that year, and represents the project's strengths very well.

RPM is a challenge to write ten songs (or make 35 minutes of music) in a month and record them. I set myself up to succeed, and this is the only time I managed it. I defined a band sound for myself with specific instrumentation: guitar, bass, and lap dulcimer. The drums were all apple loops, which come with garage band, the program I used to record all of my music at macidol. I intentionally used my second-best instruments to force me to play simply and directly: my Yamaha beater that has band stickers all over the top, my acoustic bass guitar that has the action set 'way too high, and a dulcimer that was barely playable then -- I struggled to keep it in tune and often didn't succeed -- and is totally unplayable now.

This song sets the tone for the project thematically as well. Full of regret but still looking forward. There were some goodbyes I needed to say, to people who were no longer around, to dreams I was no longer reaching for.

Screed

I am feeling more than a bit cynical this morning. It looks to me like, instead of using this lame duck session to put through as much of a rational, forward-looking social agenda as possible before the end of the session, or at least fighting for some of the changes we need, the Democrats in congress and the administration are going to spend this valuable time compromising with a majority in one of two houses in congress that isn’t even seated yet. This galls me. I am beginning to think some very cynical things. Here are the two main points:

1.) If voting changed anything, they’d make it illegal.
2.) The Democratic Party is the sucker wing of the Corporate Oligarchy.

If the Dems were a serious party looking towards the future, it is my belief that they would be fighting tooth and nail for certain specific things:

1.) Making sure that the world will not be an ecological nightmare when our grandchildren are our age
2.) Finding ways to end America’s status as the world’s leading incarcerator of its own citizens
3.) Changing the tax structure so that we are not in debt and so that we are able to maintain and improve out crumbling infrastructure.
4.) Creating a British-style National Health Service
5.) Reducing our military to rational levels. We have been on “war footing” since World War 2 and we can’t afford it any more. We cannot afford any more foreign adventures that cost in lives and resources to the extent our two current ones do.
6.) Dismantle the TSA. NO POLICE STATE!!!

We do all of things my above list opposes for the benefit of the corporatocracy. We do not support our people, we support the rich. The Democrats talk a mediocre game and deliver basically in the range of weak tea to absolutely nothing.

A committed left would not tolerate being represented by lackeys.

Voted

So it was, as usual, a great feeling to go out and vote this morning. It was a little warmer today than I had expected, which was pleasant. I even actually felt OK with walking though piles of leaves to get to the polling place (usually not a fan of fall, because it means summer is over.)

I generally dress up a little bit on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I have class those nights and I have made a bit of a deal about being trans in both classes. Today I put a little extra effort into my looks so I could go to the polls and express myself as a transwoman in that context as well. I wore my new calf-length beige skirt and a purple top, my black jacket with a sparkly purple scarf, my purple houndstooth print socks & my black mary janes. I didn't feel intimidated at all, I think I'm finally over the shyness, and said my name (still legally my old boy name) and took my card and went to the booth. I would like to acknowledge that the poll helpers were all cheerful and helpful. That made me smile.

As to how I voted -- I don't mind saying. I voted straight D, I think in my district that was the right thing to do. There's a trans voting guide being circulated by MTPC and for me, the Ds were pretty uniformly in favor of the trans rights bill that has been hanging around our state congress for a while now. As someone who's pretty lefty anyway, I was actually mostly OK with those choices.

Of course, I'm not really a Democrat, so there were a couple of races where I felt like I wanted to vote differently, but circumstances forced me to just vote the straight ticket against my own desires in three races in particular. I voted for Patrick for governor, in spite of having a strong preference for Jill Stein. Grumble, grumble. Jill is an acquaintance and I like her a whole lot. She has fought hard for a number of issues that I stand strongly in favor of. One of those issues is to change the way we vote from "either / or" to a more "first choice / second choice" model, which I think would be very democratizing and would ultimately serve the people much better. I was really wishing for that this morning.

I also held my nose and voted for Martha Coakley. I am not sure she's very good at her job, and I am so angry with her about the egregious senatorial campaign she ran last year that I really wanted to just leave her office's race blank on my ballot. Once again, there was a scary "R" next to the other name in that race, so Martha got a gimme. I think she counts on them, actually.

There was a Green / Rainbow candidate in the State Auditor's race, named Nat Fortune, who I was going to assuage my guilt and vote for, but ultimately, there was that scary "R" again. grrr.

There were 3 questions on the ballot related to reducing taxation & regulation, and I voted against all of them. There were 2 non-binding human rights questions that I wholeheartedly voted for. As a transwoman and a Buddhist, I absolutely believe health care is a right, and that no government should be making laws supporting one religion in detriment to another.

So there you go. I do feel like it was a great thing to get to the polls, it does make me glad I'm living in a somewhat-democracy when I go to the polls and feel like some of my candidates have a chance of getting in, and that my voice is being heard. I hope you voted today, too.

An Aspect of Transition I Hadn't Thought Of

I have been thinking about how my social status has changed since I've been transitioning. I definitely notice some changes, which I will think about and talk to you about later, mostly related to how my relationship with women in general has changed and improved, but one of my subscriptions at youtube brought up a subject that really drove home something interesting and weird about American society in general. First, here's a video from Mel, who lives in Detroit, I think, or at least somewhere in urban southern Michigan:



And here's a response video from Angela, who lives in NYC. It's really interesting to me to see American attitudes through these two different perspectives.

Son: A Reflection on My Identity and Values

(Note: This is a paper I just submitted for an American History course I'm taking. I thought it pertinent enough to include here in the blog. I have no idea how it will be graded, but I like it.)

This past week was my birthday. My mother sent me a card in honor of it, which was nice. I saw it on top of my mail pile and noted it was in a pretty blue envelope. I like blue. It’s one of the colors I feel that I wear well, so when I saw her handwriting on the front, I smiled. I opened the envelope. At the top of the card, in letters about an inch and a half tall, it said,

“SON.”

The card itself was, of course, also blue. There was a drawing of a very happy looking puppy dog (complete with wagging tail.) Beneath the emphatic gender identifier, it said, “Here’s a card you’re sure to like—It doesn’t lecture, advise, argue, pry, or disapprove…” and when opened, shows the puppy again, holding a banner in its teeth. Above the pup it reads, “It just sits in your hand and says” and on the banner: “Happy Birthday, with lots of love!” and it was signed, simply, “Mom.”

My mother has been here to visit me from Texas, where she now lives, earlier this month, and we spent a pretty enjoyable ten days together. There was a bit of tension around my newly revised public persona as a woman, but in general we had a good visit. Along the way, she gave me some advice about posture, went shopping with me for clothes, and did not object to me being en femme pretty much the whole time she was here. At one point, she made her position clear: “I’m still not sold on this, though you seem to be. As far as I’m concerned, you are still my son.”

Fair enough, but the card still felt a little like having salt rubbed in an open wound.

I have always been taught to be honest. Even when it seems like it will put me at a disadvantage, I have the tendency to tell the truth, because I believe that in the end, honesty is its own reward. Concerning my lifelong desire to be female, however, I would have to say that I haven’t lived up to that ideal very well, at least until recently.

I think, historically, that the culture I come from tends to compartmentalize in this manner. It shows up in our history and our thinking in both large and small ways. It shows up in crashing, dramatic contradictions in our behavior; how is it that we are able to make weight loss aids a huge industry in our culture and yet have the highest incidence of obesity in the world? How is it that we can, many of us, follow a religion ostensibly based on love and the golden rule, and yet be involved in two wars of choice, having built our country on two major genocides, and currently spend more money on the machines and methods of war than the rest of the world combined? All the while we wonder why we are feared and despised in the world. We can do this because we don’t consistently apply our philosophies across the board. It seems we can’t be trusted.

My own family history, like that of many American families, is illuminated in certain specific areas, and shrouded in mystery in others. I have seen a family tree for a particular branch of my family that goes back ten generations, to a man who was born in Monmouth, Wales in 1695, and who was killed in North Carolina in an Indian attack late in life, shortly before the Revolutionary war. My grandfather on my mother’s side liked to claim he was a quarter Cherokee, but when asked which of his grandparents was full blood, he would back down from his claim. I have heard other members of this branch of the family suggest that he was telling the truth, though no one has been able to confirm the source of our supposed Cherokee blood. For my own reasons, I would like to know this information, because I would like to find that person on the rolls of Cherokee Nation and become an enrolled member of the tribe. I have asked my mom about this and she doesn’t know where I can find this information, though she did think that probably the direction to go was in through my grandfather’s mother. She also emphatically stated, “I’m white!”

On my father’s side of the family, the line back through to the past is really not clear to me. My grandfather on that side is not someone I ever met, and my grandmother raised 5 children alone in depression-era Los Angeles. The apocryphal family story is that for at least part of that time, she worked as a bootlegger’s mule, carrying whiskey in flasks attached to her legs underneath her skirt. I don’t know what else she did; there is much in that half of my family that is not talked about. What I do know is that my father was born in Cedar City, Utah and that at that time the family was Mormon. I don’t know why they left the church, but it seems to have been a less than amicable parting of the ways. I also have heard that supposedly my grandfather was chronically hospitalized with shell shock, which I believe he sustained in the First World War. It’s all very mysterious, somehow, there’s so much about how my Dad grew up that I don’t know. There’s also an aunt of mine whom I’ve never met, who is estranged from the family.

The dominant family attachment for me, therefore, has always been my mother’s side. Her mother was raised in southern Texas near Corpus Christi. Her family was a staunchly Southern Baptist family of tenant farmers who worked in the cotton fields. My grandfather on that side of the family had been raised in the Ozark Mountains, loved to play baseball and had a large repertoire of “old songs” that he knew and at one time loved to sing, though by the time I knew him, he had stopped singing entirely. I never heard him sing a note. It’s so strange to me that he cut himself off from these things that I find so interesting: his heritage, his singing. He and my grandmother struggled very hard to raise my mom and her brothers, having moved to the mountains in Colorado and lived on starvation rations for most of the Great Depression, my grandmother and her kids living in a one room cabin with a dirt floor, my grandfather travelling everywhere he could to find work, often riding the rails hobo style looking for migrant farm work. I suspect struggling as hard as they did to make a life probably caused certain things to seem unimportant.

My own parent’s lives were easier, as the country became prosperous after the Second War. My father had served in the Army Air Corps and following the war had become fairly successful as a car salesman at a Cadillac dealership in LA. My mother was pretty and smart and 12 years younger than my dad. She had left Colorado to escape her mother who had the frustrating habit of chasing off every man she became interested in. After meeting my father through mutual friends, she married him within three months in the fall of 1958. My father began an auto body repair business, which quickly failed. I was born in California within a year of the wedding. My next younger brother was born almost exactly two years later in Colorado, after my parents’ financial collapse and subsequent move to live with my mother’s parents.

My grandmother, predictably, hated my father. That never changed.

My own childhood was angst-y for my own reasons. I was female-identified right from the start; my best friends in my toddler and preschool years were little girls. When I started kindergarten, I remember an exchange from, I think, my first day. I had tried to start up a conversation with a girl who was a classmate of mine. I remember her yelling at me, saying, “You’re a boy! I don’t talk to boys!” and my troubles proceeded from there. I never had friends in school. I got beat up a lot. I always felt different from everyone else. To be clear, I generally identified as male, but I was never happy about it, and whenever something would happen that placed me in a female context somehow, I would secretly feel this intense joy, like the real me had somehow escaped into the sun. I can provide many examples of this from throughout my life, but I won’t do so here in the interest of space. I would have these revelations over and over again, and because I didn’t know what to do with them, and because I was ashamed of them, I would push that part of myself back into the darkness and forget. Even with my efforts to forget this part of myself, I always felt lonely and alienated. I had this strong feeling that there was no one like me. Further, I often had the experience of being with my extended family, feeling separate from them, thinking, “If you really knew me, if you knew who I was, you would hate me.”

I survived it all and grew up (sort of; I feel I am still very much a work in progress!) In my twenties I became a punk rock musician. I became a Buddhist. I am politically very much a leftist. For a long time I thought I must be gay, though I knew I was attracted to women. This is common among transsexuals who haven’t figured themselves out yet.

It’s another way to compartmentalize. I think that this inconsistency is something that happens when you live by an impossible moral code, and I think that Americans do this as a matter of course. I think we find it very difficult to accept each other and ourselves the way we truly are. I think we are an incredibly inwardly blind society.

When I first came out to my mother, her immediate response was that she could point to any number of instances in my life that would make sense with the notion that I think of myself as female. I felt really good about that first conversation, though at the same time I had some doubt that she would stick to that level of approval, and it turns out that I was right to have my reservations. She has clearly retrenched along the lines demarcated at the beginning of this paper, though my perception of things is that she is having trouble with it because of her Christian worldview. If it were only a matter of whether or not I were happy, I think she would be having less of a problem with my transition from male to female. She never talks about it from the Christian perspective, but I perceive her as living in a very Christian place and social world, and so I think, though she won’t talk to me about this from a moral or religious point of view, it is in her mind that what I am doing is morally wrong. I know that she will never frame her feelings in that way for me.

If I am to have any hope of resolving this matter in a happy way with her, I am going to have to be consistent, firm, loving, and honest.

I think I can do that.

What Are the Odds?

Hmmm… It’s a month out from the elections, the Democrats are starting to tick up in the polls a little bit, the economic news is not as dire as might be hoped in opposition circles… Who would have thought that a vague but ominous-sounding terror threat would pop up of a Monday morning, just when most people’s stress levels are up anyway?

Project Runway meta

I have not had time to blog about each successive episode of PR. I think episode 9 or 10 was just on, and the last ep I blogged was 4. I can go back and do them all, but is it worth it? maybe it is, I haven't decided. The main issue is time, but I also haven't been happy with how the drama has gotten in the way of the design part of the show. there have been a couple of weeks where I have liked very few of the looks lately, and I feel like that shouldn't be the case, especially this late in the game. If I can find the time, though, maybe I will go back and blog some of the episodes from my DVR.

View from the top floor of the Dance Complex

View from the top floor of the Dance Complex, originally uploaded by madduane.

I'm going back here! I was taking a dance class at the Dance Complex earlier in the summer, but had to stop due to a medical issue. I'm ready to start back on Friday. Really looking forward to it!

Oops! I vlogged...

Hiroko

Hiroko was a model brought to Paris in the mid 1960s by Pierre Cardin, who considered her his muse. You can find other pictures and a brief account of her in Linda Morand's Diary of a Mod Model. Linda was another model who worked with Cardin.

My Disclosure Letter

I sent this to my coworkers today.

Hi everyone.

I have an announcement to make. Today I begin my new life (very much like the old one in most respects) as Diane.

I have struggled with my gender identity my whole life. I have been by turns angry, sad, depressed and desperately lonely. I grew up thinking there was no one like me. A couple of years ago, things got to a critical point, and I had to make this decision in order to have any hope of being happy. Since embarking on this journey, I have become happier and much more optimistic about life.

Please understand that I am not doing this to call attention to myself. In fact, the opposite is truer; my wish is to be unremarkable, at least in terms of my personal identity. I dread being clocked in public as a transsexual, though I have come to realize that at least to a certain extent it is unavoidable. I know from experience that I can deal with it. I am a transsexual, and I am proud of who I am, but I am also a woman, and I would much rather be thought of as such.

As far as people who know me go, I have had zero bad experiences to this point. I am determined to make this change in the context of my current life. My feeling is and has been from the beginning that Lesley is as close to an ideal work environment as can exist for me to be in as I go through this (ongoing) process.

With that said, I am not aware of any other transpeople within the Lesley community. There are two things I’d like to say about that. First, because people like me seem to be somewhat rare, I understand if you have questions or concerns. Please feel free to ask me any questions you might have. I’ve not only been living this for a little while now, I have done quite a bit of research and have resources to go to if you have a question I can’t immediately answer.

Second, if you do know other transfolk, especially people within Lesley, great! Tell them about me, and me about them. I really want to network.

And finally, I would like to state my hope that my transition from male to female will have little to no impact on the workings of eLIS (the department I work in). I know I don’t see most of you from day to day, but I have found you all to be friendly, professional, intelligent, and caring. Please know that I am really proud to have each of you as coworkers.

Thanks for reading this. Please don’t hesitate to approach me if you have any concerns at all.

With respect,
--Diane Griffin

Project Runway Season 8, Ep 4

°Starting w/ the ambulances. Stress level on this season is really high. No word on what the other 2 ambulances were for. It was just Ivy that they talked about.
°Philip Treacy's big, arty, ostentatious hats. He says "Matching is old hat."
°Model choices -- every designer sticks with their models.
°They only have until 11 today. Why? (Father's day?)
°I wish my voice was as feminine as Michael Drummond's
°Casanova talks about quitting
°Kristen is really struggling. She doesn't like her hat.
°April likes her shorts. She is wrong.
°Mondo is really bold with prints.
°Michael C. has to start over with 5 hours left to work. His dress was really a mess.
°I'm noticing Tim has a couple of lesions on his forehead. What's up with that? (See first note)
°Michael D. "There are many ways to skin a cat, but you should probably bring a knife." In reference to Michael C. not having tools he needs.
°On my second viewing of this episode, Gretchen's not bothering me more than anyone else.
°Mondo put a moustache on his model! Awesome!
°Casanova says Michael C.'s dress is already in every girl from Puerto Rico's closet.
°Peach has gone pink yet again.
°The color of Michael C.'s dress really works.
°Michael D.'s look is really bold. It's my favorite. Yay, Michael!
°April, your look is a disaster. Diaper with a zipper in back.
°I like Mondo's look. He's got a huge personality to his work.
°Designers love Christopher's look
°Judges hate Christopher's look
°Designers didn't like Valerie's dress, but the judges liked it.
°Ivy looks totally shocked and scandalized that the judges liked Michael C.'s dress. I liked the color and the flowiness.

Public art, Central Square

Public art, Central Square, originally uploaded by madduane.

Hello, down there!

Hello, down there!, originally uploaded by madduane.

Project Runway Season 8, Ep 3

°They start the episode with Gretchen's bigheadedness.
°Then, the very truncated "Models of the Runway" ep, illustrating why the show was so unnecessary.
°Challenge is to use materials from a party supplies store.
°A. J. is under pressure to produce, because of his audition garment, and apparently much of his output is in this genre.
°Casanova is complaining that he doesn't know what to use as material.
°Peach uses -- surprise! -- pink.
°Casanova killed a plush puppy (actually, two plush puppies)!!! OH, NO!!!
°Andy is braiding pieces of black & silver ribbon. This looks like a lot of work.
°Michael C. doesn't say what he's thinking to people's faces, only to the camera later. Do not trust him!
°Gretchen needs to take a dose of STFU. Seriously.
°Kristen made Tim say "Wooly balls!" He turns a lovely shade of bright red.
°Lots of glue guns! Right before the runway, it seemed like every designer had a glue gun in their hands.
°Kudos to April and Peach for helping Andy finish his dress. It is really beautiful.
°A. J.'s dress is kind of a disaster.
°Gretchen made something nice. Damn her.
°Someone described Kristen's dress as a jellyfish. How apt.
°Sarah! Sorry about that dress. It is so sad!
°Valerie's dress is a knockout. The black & white napkins give a nice volume, and the lines are so cool.
°They had the designers in the middle of the pack in the green room talking about the high & low end designers that were still out on the runway. They seemed to have a really good idea who was on top and who was in trouble. Nailed it, in fact, in my opinion.
°A. J. is so stressed. He's really seeming high strung.
°At least Gretchen didn't win.
°Casanova survives yet again.
°And then at the end, there's a michegoss involving ambulances. There are 3, but we only see 1 person in trouble. I think Ivy inhaled too many glue fumes.

Status Report

Today's kind of a big day. Kind of. There's bigger coming.

But today, I talk to my bosses about being Diane at work. I'm thinking it will be a good conversation (I think both R. and K. are awesome!) but it's making me a little nervous. I'll report back on the meeting after, though it may take me a couple of days to get to it. Today & tomorrow are pretty chock-full.

A little story I'd like to relate briefly: I was at the bus stop for the commute in, and this older guy (probably in his 60s) in his big boat of a Mercedes convertible, top down, blasting the Grateful Dead, is obviously just enjoying the morning & his music. At some point, I get the feeling he's checking me out. "Really?" I think. "Me?" I kind of mentally shrug. OK, that's cool. I assume it's because I was the only female object in viewing distance, but I'll take it. It felt good, actually.

Which brings me back to my situation today. I basically wear what I would call low-key female dress these days. I've talked about the t-shirt and jeans thing before, and that's what I have on today. Usually, I'm in this little space in the basement with my immediate supervisor, D, and what I wear doesn't matter so much. K. wants to meet in her office, so I'm thinking I may have misjudged a little. I tend to worry about what I'm wearing, so I'm nervous for that reason. I'll ask D what she thinks.

Another topic: My life has been really full lately, I get on these jags where there's a lot going on socially & tonight I have a couple of medical appointments & tomorrow I have a discussion group thing, so I'm borrowing a few minutes to make this post, but it's going to take me probably until Friday to get to episode 3 of Runway. I'll probably blog both 3 and 4 on Friday.

That's it! Stay cool, people! :)

Project Runway Season 8 Ep 2

°So, I find myself hoping that Jason and Casanova go home, in that order. That should come as no surprise.
°Mondo is cute, but shy. I hope he finds some friends on the show.
°Jason’s “8 for infinity” idea seems really dumb. I have no idea how he can make that flattering and beautiful.
°Peach has picked a print on white again. At least she realizes immediately that she’s got a problem.
°I feel like Casanova is asking other people to do his design work for him. I find it annoying, but I can also see another side of it. He’s trying to be social and to reach out. I just think it’s not the most appropriate way to go about it. Am I wrong?
°Tim walks in, and it’s obvious that everyone’s stressing…
°I like Tim giving Mondo props.
°Jason has concerned Tim again. I’m with Tim on this one.
°In the background I’m noticing Michael’s dress, and I love the fabric he’s chosen!
°They really are ratcheting up the tension on this season. At times it’s more palatable than in any of the seasons’s I’ve watched before.
°Gretchen is helping Casanova. Why does this annoy me so much? “Hips buddies” makes me laugh, though.
°Peach is really struggling. I like Peach a lot, but I’m really not clear what’s going to happen with her. It’s early to say, and I think there’s some kind of breakthrough coming, but what will it be? I love that she’s mad good & fast at sewing. But even she is unhappy with what she’s made this week.
°OK, so Mondo also gets some help from Valerie, so maybe I have to ease up on Casanova. Mondo wasn’t asking about his garment, though, only accessories.
°The photo shoot does show the dresses in a different light.
°Jason’s dress is a complete disaster. Safety pins. Swear to God! And he wants the judges to go easy on him. Bye, bye, Jason. Please!
°On the runway, Jason’s dress looks even worse, and he totally doesn’t even realize it.
°Michael D.’s dress is too short! Sad!
°Casanova’s dress is OK.
°Not sure how I feel about Kristen’s outfit. All the hems are so weird. I just can’t sort it out for myself.
°Mondo’s outfit is pretty awesome.
°Casanova survives for another week.
°Michael Kors says you could wear a tank top under Gretchen’s thing. I’m picturing that, and it’s totally blowing my mind! Nothing I would have thought of. That’s something simple. I have lots to learn…

Being Read

Today I was out doing a little exercise walk and a little food shopping and got read twice.

I was in the local coffee shop ordering an iced coffee, and the guy behind the counter first gets my order wrong, then rings it up wrong, then tries to give me the wrong change. I'm trying to console him about it and all of a sudden he startles a little bit, but doesn't say anything. I kind of have a feeling I know what's happened, and it's confirmed a little later when I'm walking out, and as I'm going past the counter he calls out excitedly to one of his fellow employees. I don't react and keep going. My assessment is that the guy's an idiot. The fact is that I am so over being embarrassed about this stuff. Mostly I get frustrated & feel like I need to keep improving my presentation. I know it's a process and most of the time I pass. It's just every once in a while that stuff like this happens.

A little later, I was walking through the parkland near my house and there's this totally cherubic little boy, probably about 3 years old, out enjoying the day with his mom. He's so beautiful and I smile at him. He smiles back. I look away for a second and when I look back, he's got this cross look on his face, and an accusing look in his eye directed at me.

That one is a little more difficult to sort out my feelings about. Kids and gender is a very touchy area for any number of reasons. None of them has to do with me being in the wrong for sorting out and dealing with my own gender issues. I also need to point out that for me, and for transpeople in general, these issues go back to before that stage of development. I know that I was already struggling with gender identity when I was his age. I am, however, not completely sorted about what it means for little kids, who are so wrapped up in figuring out their own identities, and the way we acculturate kids into this ironclad gender binary view. It was the cause of a lot of hell for me, for sure. It's something I really need to find out more about. I'll be talking to my therapist about it, and I guess I need to do some early childhood development research, too.

For now, I draw some of the same conclusions I draw from the first incident. I put the burden on myself to continue working on presenting as female as well as I can.

Coco Chanel

The more I look at the work of Coco Chanel, the more awestruck I become. I have posted about Paul Poiret here. I love the pictures of his work that I've seen. Coco Chanel is the designer who rendered him, and every designer that came before, obsolete. And, though she revolutionized fashion in the post World War One era, and there are many designers who have come along and also revolutionized fashion, no one has rendered Chanel obsolete.



I'm reading up on fashion history right now, and Chanel's work stands out. Her designs freed women, literally. The fashion and the rules regarding dress at the time, especially women of means, were restrictive and regimented, including a requirement to wear corsets for much of each day. Chanel's designs must have been in direct response to this. She drew long, slightly curved and sinuous lines, where prior to her, and for many decades previously, clothes were designed around an exaggerated s-curve that was idealized and not a naturally occurring female shape.

Towards the end of the video included here, there are modern runway and red carpet shots of her clothes. They seem very modern to me, and also very classic. Her color palette, at least for the designs shown here, seems very subdued, but I love all these clothes. I'll try, at some point, to do a better job of talking about why her fashion and her approach move me so much.

Project Runway Season 8, Ep 1

I have resolved to take some time with each episode this season and make some comments.

°The first line that comes across to me as something I resonate with is when Kristin Simms says "Embrace the crooked zipper!" I hope that's the spirit of this season.
°Peach is interesting. She seems to be the queen of the absurd one-liners. I'm expecting her to keep me entertained.
°I think the whole "You're not on the show yet" thing is disingenuous, because, um, yes they are. They just don't have a bed at Atlas yet. I do kind of get it though, it ratchets up the tension right from the start.
°Casanova was told the item would be incorporated into a design. He wasn't the only one who didn't hear that, though.
°I do like the more detailed sessions with Tim.
°Right from the time of Tim's kibbutz with Casanova, I feel like he's in trouble.
°When Tim looks away from Jason's backwards kimono, his expression is priceless.
°I'm liking Mondo's design, and Peach's is pleasing me, too. I don't know what it is with me and prints, but I am almost always drawn to them.
°Two of the weakest designers have brought up the idea of the mohawk: McKell & Jason. It's an idea, obviously, that is not going to catch on. I'm relieved.
°I actually like McKell's dress.
°Gretchen's LBD is pretty darn OK!
°Michael Drummond's dress really works for me. I think I'm going to like him in general. He is definitely not afraid of color!
°Casanova is a train wreck. How many times can I say it?
°Jason's just as bad.
°Gretchen is the winner, but I thought other designs were as good.
°I'm not liking Ivy arguing with the judges. Ivy is a little grating in general.
°McKell's accessorizing is an interesting mistake. The bag she pairs with the dress matches better with her outfit than with the model's.
°Another interesting connection I'm making is Peach's pants which she handed over to be redesigned and the fabric she used in her dress. Very similar, and something to watch for in future. The judges liked Peach's dress, but didn't like the pants.
°I am kind of sorry to see McKell go.

Concerning Regret

In looking for a particular trans site (which I still haven't found, I seem to have gotten sidetracked), I came across something called A WARNING FOR THOSE CONSIDERING MtF SRS. I hesitated to go to the site, picturing the usual Christian transphobic hectoring to be the probable content of a site under that title. But closer inspection of the link showed a connection to Lynn Conway's extensive and very informative site, so I decided it behooved me to look at it.

I agree totally with what is said at this site, and it doesn't take me much reflection to be clear that none of these bogus reasons are why I'm transitioning. I'm not going to go into my reasons here, that's not the point I want to make.

I do want to make the point, however, that some transpeople, with perfectly legitimate reasons for transitioning, don't have successful transitions. It's something I'm sorting through right now, as I proceed towards the nearing date that I start living full time as a woman. The most striking example I can come up with is the story of Christine Daniels, who is one of the most famous transpeople of the last decade, and who committed suicide months after detransitioning and resuming writing under the name Mike Penner.



Another famous example of an unsuccessful transition is the first one listed at the original web page I linked to, the case that first showed me that transitioning was possible (no, it didn't put the idea in my head, it was more a confirmation of something I've felt since even before I can remember), that of Renee Richards.



Reasons listed there for her unsuccessful transition are a true cautionary tale for all of us who are considering switching to the other gender.

I have felt the attraction of being the center of attention based on this thing I'm doing. Ultimately, though, I find that I really don't want to be the center of attention. In a way, I want to be totally ignored and unremarkable for this. I don't want to be fussed over, and I don't want to call attention to myself. I'm doing this to be more comfortable and to feel more a part of things than I have previously. As a guy, I have always felt alienated and separate. In the last months, as I've been looking more and more like I think I should, people who don't know me see me as female. And it's not magical to them, and I constantly remind myself that over half the population is female, and it's more than fine with me. Things just seem right in the world in a way they never did before.

One expectation I think some transwomen have is that they will be hot and sexy. Dude, I'm fifty. I think I look better the more female I look, but I'm under no illusions. I'm overweight, I have a body that's been "ravaged by testosterone" for all the years of my life except this last one, and that leaves a rather all-encompassing mark. One of my great anxieties about transition before I started was all the ways that my body has been affected by that. I am so encouraged that most of the time, strangers see me the way I want to be seen. I'm still a work in progress, very much so, but I am quite optimistic for the success of my own transition.

I have a very good friend who cautioned me, when I first started this process, to not call attention to myself, and I have to say that her advice was really wise. Even now, when I'm really sure that this is right for me, I think not making a big deal of this has been the right choice.

I'm keeping my expectations modest, I'm trying to make this make sense in my life, and I have the extra fortune of being surrounded by very supportive friends. I also have quite a few examples of successful transitions to model on.

I hope, if you find this blog because I keyword "transgender" at the end of these posts, that you have a similar support system and realistic expectations. Please seek out those good role models (they are out there!) and seek your best, most authentic self.

Random odd comments from the last few days

1. "Your voice sounds like Candace Bergen's"

2. "You're an O. G., so you've got experience."

3. "Do these pills make my butt look big?"

Attributions: 1. Innocent but very large boy who I think was trying to hit on me. 2. Manic girl who was yammering compulsively to anyone whether they appeared to be listening or not at a bus stop. 3. me

Short, Apologetic Meta

Sorry it's been a week since I've posted.

It's actually funny, given the track record of this blog, for me to make such an apology, but I guess it's an apology to myself more than anything. I have had quite the week, though.

On Monday at 5am I had emergency hernia repair surgery, so at least part of why I haven't been here is that I've been occupied with other things. Feeling much better now, thank you, so back to dithering and ruminating on my various interests.

I have a few ideas for posts, but no time at the moment, so they will have to wait a few hours. I just wanted to pop in and so now I have.

Cheers!

Trans Meta I

So much of what's going through my mind lately is about appearance.

I don't think I've managed to look good in girl mode yet. It's a struggle. As I've stated before, I've never cared about my looks before. Now I do, and it's great to finally think I might actually see something looking back from the mirror at me that will please me. But I'm so not there yet. I'm way overweight, my wardrobe is small, with gaping holes in it, and my visual sense is just waking up. In some ways, I don't even know what I look like yet.

Don't misunderstand; when I see me in female clothing, when other people see me as a woman, it rings through me like the sympathetic note of a piece of fine crystal. It's not in any way deniable that what's happening is that I'm finally recognizing and being recognized as, well, me.

I'd say that at this point, I'm 50% to 70% passable, depending on how I'm dressed. I just need to go through the process of figuring out my tastes, figuring out what works on this body. I joked earlier about liking girl-mode t-shirts and jeans. It's true, and it's what I see most girls wearing. I also don't want to get all overwrought about it all. But I feel like I want to be able to make good choices, to have a better sense and a whole lot more knowledge.

One thing I've noticed, as hrt is rewiring my brain bit by bit, is that my visual sense is becoming more & move vivid. I'm far more sensitive, and often have quite visceral reactions to color -- the paint on a car, a nice print on a piece of clothing, and of course flowers, things that I have always thought of as mundane will just hit me and I'll be moved in a way that is not in my experience from before I started transitioning. I take this as a good sign.

I'm also, as you can see from recent posts, trying to learn more about fashion in general. I haven't started in on the magazines yet, though that is coming soon. I bought an issue of Vogue about a year ago, and found it more disturbing than enlightening. The models seem to me to be way too young, there's so much advertising. It was also something I had no grounding in, so much of what I was seeing didn't resonate at all. I'm reading books now on the subject, and looking at blogs like The Sartorialist and some of what I'm seeing is starting to make sense to me.

This blog doesn't have any sort of a following, but then, I've neglected it, just occasionally posting some bit of art or music that moved me. I think I have a purpose now, and I'm trying to be more dedicated about posting. If that turns into a readership of some sort, I hope to really benefit from folks commenting. I'm starting to see that one of the reasons fashion is fashion is the interaction aspect of it.

Paul Poiret

Another touchstone designer; his was the big name in fashion before Coco Chanel. He was the king of the industry in the years before WWI, and never got his mojo back after the war, in fact died in poverty in 1940. I love these designs, though! I love all the bright, dramatic colors, the embroidery, and the asymmetrical necklines, which I'm sure were really out there for the time. I had wanted to see lampshade dresses, which I've heard about but couldn't imagine, and the last few garments shown are, indeed, lampshade dresses. They are really cool and unique. So many of these designs have would have been thought of at the time as having an "oriental" flair.



Sorry for this being in French. I don't speak it either.

The Wrong Bra!!!

One thing that has changed for me, and is requiring a bit of adjustment, is that I actually have to think about what I'm going to wear.

From the time I graduated from diapers and onesies I have lived in the default outfit; t-shirt and jeans. Color doesn't matter (preference for black aside), there's really no decision making involved. But ever since a couple of months ago, when I finally admitted that with the changes in my body, I could no longer wear that default, I have been trying to come to terms with what I can & can't wear. I don't dread it, I don't feel it's particularly onerous, it's simply what has to happen to look good and for me to be comfortable. This is as opposed to not giving a damn how I look!

So, today I have a couple of things to do after work, things that actually more reflect me in girl mode. Once or twice before, I've brought a change of clothes with me to work. This is going to happen more, until I put away the boy things entirely. ("When? When? Can we do that now?" I ask. "No, not quite yet," I regretfully reply)

I bought a pair of capri pants at the local tar zhay, and then went over to another store in the same little mall, Avenue, and found a lot of clothes I liked (OK, tastes are starting to show -- I like girl-mode t-shirt and jeans! lol) I have them with me today. As my bus was pulling away from my stop, I suddenly realized that the bra I'm wearing will not work with the top I brought. Damn! So, what to do? I'm hesitant to go out and buy another top, but I think that may be the solution.

I need more clothes anyway. I just need to not spend money.

Avsh Alom Gur's Spring / Summer '09 designs (London)

I thought it would be cool to juxtapose this against the New Look video down a few posts from here. Avsh Alom Gur is another designer I've learned about from the Linda Grant book I'm reading. She talked about him in her chapter on sexiness. Warning -- a couple of these looks may be mildly NSFW.



I'm kind of getting the chair thing -- it serves as both a pure design element and a reflection of an attitude about clothes in general. I love the stripeyness and the contrasting ogee element. Some fun looks, and now I'm going to be looking everywhere to see if I see those chairs...

Just a little life stuff

So, this morning something happened that struck me as significant. It was very minor, but signaled to me that something in my emotional makeup has changed.

I was riding the bus to work, as ever. And as always, as we neared Harvard Square, the bus I was on became seriously crowded. At one point, a woman plopped herself down on the seat next to me, kind of half sitting on me. Now, in the past, this would have put me into a hellish state. I would not get up, but I would be hugging anything nearby opposite my fellow passenger to leverage myself away from her, I would be sweating profusely, which would only make things worse, and inside I would be wishing as hard as I could to be anywhere, anyone but who and where I was.

Today I just laughed a little to my self and scooted over a little. No self-loathing, no wishing myself out of my skin, no sweat. It wasn't until a few minutes later that I realized I'd never had that reaction before. It made me really happy.

These changes I'm going through -- they're having such a profound positive effect. Today I had a chance to really appreciate it.

Carolina Chocolate Drops -- Genuine Negro Jig CD Review

Went CD shopping the other week with the idea that I'd get something unfamiliar and bring it home to review here on NME (HA! just thought of that!) This caught my eye out of the folk section. It fits in to my personal fascination with identity, hits my string band sweet tooth, and had a pretty cover. I didn't realize it until later, but I've actually seen them live at Old Songs Festival 2006.

As I thought about this purchase more, I began to feel a little uneasy about the fact that they blazon themselves with the "genuine black string band music" label, but over time and with multiple listens to the CD, I've become more comfortable with the idea. They win me over with their facility with the string band music style, as evidenced by this performance of one of the songs from the CD -- "Cornbread and Butterbeans" for a show from North Carolina called "Blue Plate Special"



They also have won me over with their eclecticness. They may be waving a particular banner right there in your field of vision, but they cover a lot of ground on this 12 song CD. Here's another example from the same program, a pop song called "Hit "Em Up Style"



What you're getting as examples are from the first half of the CD. Worth noting that that half of the CD pretty much sets you up with fine examples of what you'd expect from such a band as they are, so what's revelatory here is the second half of the CD. English folk balladry, a Tom Waits cover, beautiful modal love songs. They cover a lot of territory in that single CD, lots of switching instruments happens (as you can tell by the two performances here), and yet a single throughline of unified sound emerges.

As a commentary on identity, I find it really comforting and affirming. Everything can find its way into a particular context, a whole world can be explored from pretty much any point of view, and that point of view can remain intact.

Then & Now

9/12/08



6/11/10



These photos were taken with the built-in iSight on my work computer, a year and nine months apart. I know I don't get flattering pictures from that camera, but for my purposes here, 'twill serve.

Dior New Look

This is new territory for me. I've been watching Project Runway for the last few seasons, and really enjoying it. I know, really, nothing about fashion. I'm currently reading two books -- Fashion for Dummies by Jill Martin, which is, from my naive but not insensible point of view, good basic advice on how to dress, and The Thoughtful Dresser by Linda Grant, which is reflections on the meaning of clothes and fashion, and which I am finding really insightful (to be fair, most writing on fashion is going to seem insightful to me). Linda Grant is a British novelist a few years older than me, but close enough in age that I can catch a lot of her cultural references and know exactly what she's talking about. I'm just starting the second chapter, and having read a reference to Dior's 1947 "New Look", I went to see what was available at youtube that might show me some of the couture that revolutionized fashion in the postwar era.

One of the things that is really striking to me is the seemingly impossible waists -- some of those models must be corseted to within and inch of their lives! But they are beautiful dresses, I love the third one, the white(?), textured, sparkly fabric, the wide flowing skirt. It seems like such a happy garment, meant for celebration. I also like the dramatic suit you see fifth. and, actually, pretty much all of what this vid shows. These designs were shown first when my mother was, by my estimation, a freshman in High School, and I know that she loved these sorts of looks.

I can't discuss them intelligently, sorry, but I do find them to be beautiful.

CONTINUED: A couple of things should be mentioned: First, I miscounted the garments in the video, and I find, especially considering what I'm also going to add here, that this makes things confusing. The second look that I really wanted to mention because I thought it was beautiful and dramatic was the sixth one, not the fifth. The fifth look (the checked suit) was the outfit I saw that most looked to me like it made use of a rather severe corset. My girlfriend tells me that there were no corsets used in the New Look, so I'm not sure how they achieved that very restricted wasp waist.

I'm Gonna...

...do a redesign on this blog coming up here. My blog idol and one of his regular commenters were talking about how light colored text on a dark background is hard on the eyes, and I can see the point. (It's never been a problem for me...) I've put lots of photos here & I kinda like the photos being on a black background, but I keep thinking I wanna do more writing for the blog, so I want to make it a little easier to read whatever I actually do write. So, hopefully over the weekend, I'll get to that long-promised CD review writing assignment and a little playing around with the blog template.

And now, back to whatever.

A Random Memory

I worked at a call center a few years ago. Many of my fellow workers were a lot younger than me, in their early twenties.

There was one girl in particular, someone I liked a lot. She was smart and funny and fashionable. She was obsessed, like many of the kids I worked with, with celebrity culture. A particular favorite of hers was Paris Hilton. I think Paris was very important to her. One time, we were on a break (probably once when the phone system was down) we somehow got onto the subject of Paris, and as I have no respect for the Hilton woman, I said, "Don't you understand that Paris is short for Parasite?" which was really funny to me, but which hurt (I will call her) Samantha's feelings. She never spoke to me again. It's true, we didn't work together but another couple of weeks, but I think she was truly offended by what I said, and we never said a word to each other after that.

I've always regretted being so acerbic in that situation. If Samantha ever randomly happens to read this and recognizes herself in this little story, please understand that I'm really sorry. I was mean.

What I wish I'd gone on to say is -- "I think you are a hundred times cooler than her. You are braver and tougher and, actually, far more beautiful than Paris HIlton could ever be. Any time PH gets into trouble, she's always got daddy's millions to fall back on. You're out here in the middle of the night calling people and struggling to make it and doing OK. Sam, you rock." That's how I feel and I so wish I hadn't left it where I left it w/ her.

The bad, bad "art" of the OCDC dungeon

The bad, bad "art" of the OCDC dungeon, originally uploaded by madduane.

John

John, originally uploaded by madduane.

This came out nicely. John thinks his beard is a little long, but I think this look works, and I like the expression I captured here.

TIme Gets Away From Me, Again...

Seriously. I will do that review. Promise!

Metablogging Maybe

I am thinking that I want to abandon the Facebooks. I'm way addicted, and it's not a good thing. Also, I would love to have all the random blogging I do in a bunch of different places appear in one place, and have that place be focussed on my writing. That was always the purpose here anyway, so I am thinking that I will start bringing that blogging impulse I have to these pages more of the time, if not (and probably not) exclusively.

One thing I've been thinking of doing is music reviews. Lots of my friends have these "modern music bores me" outbursts. I also note that most music reviewers these days scrupulously avoid having anything substantive to say about the music they review. It'll be a challenge to not fall into those patterns, should I follow through with this latest whim. I think I can be of help, though. I have pretty wide ranging tastes and I try to get under the surface of particular things I listen to. The amount of time I spend thinking about music these days actually exceeds the amount of time I spend listening to or playing music, for sure.

I won't write about huge volumes of music. I think that I'll try to assign myself at least one review a week for the next upcoming little while. I'll try to post something this weekend. Cool! I get to go CD shopping tonight! :)

Sunday School

Sunday School, originally uploaded by madduane.

I like this photo.

Something About Another Blog

I read the Princess Sparklepony blog on a daily basis. I like knowing what Peter, whom I've known since the early '80s, is up to, what he's thinking about. He's got a unique viewpoint and I see the world differently and more clearly for what I get from him.

So, a few days ago, he posted something about health care and it's gotten a lot of comments, largely long posts about people's experiences with the health care system. His own post was pretty much a health care experience he's been having, so it's fair game, but it just points out to me how exhausted the whole issue is making me at this point, but also how much this issue hits home for people.

I have been much more involved in the health care system over the last couple of years. I am going through a life change and part of how I'm changing includes wanting to take better care of myself, so I understand the hoops that this bureaucratic and messed up system puts people through. I personally support a nationalized health care system, and I'd be happy with either the German / Canadian model or the British model, as long as people can get the health care they need. It's a right to life issue.

I've gotten off track a bit, here, but I suppose my point is just that I am surprised, even still, at the depth of feeling around this issue. And also just to shout out to Peter for his lovely art & politics blog.

Beach Grass, Long Island, February 2010

Beach Grass, Long Island, February 2010, originally uploaded by madduane.

This is a bit late getting posted, but here 'tis, one of my more recent photo adventures.

One Hour Ahead

Means one hour closer to senior discounts.

untitled

The Who at the Super Bowl

I just watched this (the only portion of the evening I had any interest in, really) on Youtube.

XXX
(UPDATE -- These vids are no longer up! Maybe you can find different uploads somewhere on the web but I don't think I'll look for 'em...)
XXX

I've heard a few people say they thought it was sub-par. There are things to complain about, if you're of a mind. They played a ten minute medley of their classic rock hits instead of concentrating on full versions of songs. Well, that right there proves that some people have unrealistic expectations. Their most recognizable stuff from the period they chose to represent would have allowed them to do 2 or maybe 3 songs. That wouldn't have satisfied anyone, either. I don't know what I would have done in their stead, but I'm happy they did it the way they did. Others complained about the vocals. I thought they were in fine voice. They didn't harmonize like on the records, and they didn't blend their voices very well. So what. This is rock n roll, not pop. They hit the *emotional* notes perfectly. Roger sounded like Roger and Pete sounded like Pete. Someone else asked if that was Nigel Tufnel on the drums. No. That was Zak Starkey, Ringo's son. He grew up knowing Keith and seems to me to play just like him. All around, it was a pretty wonderful twelve minutes, encapsulating everything I like about the Who that you could put in such a short set.

Now, if only they could have gotten rid of the football and just had a three hour Who concert, that would have been better!

Gumbasia

Art Clokey, the creator of Gumby and Davey and Goliath, the two great, somewhat surreal claymation kid's shows from the sixties passed away this last Friday (January 8th.) Here is his first claymation effort, from 1955.

Self Portrait 1.2.10d

Self Portrait 1.2.10d, originally uploaded by madduane.

Self Portrait 1.2.10b

Self Portrait 1.2.10b, originally uploaded by madduane.

Self Portrait 1.2.10a

Self Portrait 1.2.10a, originally uploaded by madduane.