la chouette bleue: 2013

Friday, February 08, 2013

L'amour.

I love...love.

I love being in love. I love my friends. My baby.

I love little red and pink hearts. Construction paper, lace doilies, glue sticks and glitter. Chocolate covered cherries, strawberries and smooches. Red wine and pasta dishes. Tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and sex on a plate. Big bouquets of floral sprays spelling out what words can't say. Young men with tattoos holding doors for old ladies. Lighting cigarettes for future lovers. Bourbon breath whispers and vodka spilling over the sides of martini glasses. Wearing all the rings you've given to yourself on both hands. Nervously-chipped nail polish awaiting that 4am phone call. Blankets, pillows and cold toes. Love is all around. Wearing many masks and at times denying its own existence. Shown in the lines on my face and in the twinkle of an eye.
It's real-life magic, my friends.

Go on out there and get you some.

6 Anatomy Magnets from Art Altered ($5.99)

Fox Face Mary Janes from Em & Sprout ($28)

Cigarettes & Booze from Locher's ($59)

Steak Necklace from The Spangled Maker ($26)

Organic Donut Rattles from Oompa ($26)

Bloody Script Bow Clip from Licorice Jewelry ($9.60)

Astronaut Love Mug from Bread & Badger ($20)

Deer Tattoo Chest Piece Necklace from Licorice Jewelry ($33.60)

I & Love & You - The Avett Brothers

God Only Knows - The Beach Boys

Bruises - Chairlift

I Got You Babe - Sonny & Cher

Can't Help Falling in Love - Ingrid Michaelson

Home - Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

If You Ain't Got Love - Mason Jennings

I Hope This Gets to You - The Daylights

Harvest Moon - Neil Young

Do You Wanna Dance - The Mamas & the Papas

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

Your Song - Elton John

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Happy Valentine's Day.
Take care of your heart today.

Friday, February 01, 2013

Four Books That Influenced My Feminism

Pink Think: Becoming a Woman in Many Uneasy Lessons

by Lynn Peril

A look into the world of marketing towards women dating from the 1940's and on. Pink Think questions the motives behind the soft, submissive, blushing lines of girlhood. I have never been apologetic about my scabbed knees and bruised shins, but I have questioned why others saw these as flaws. This book is an eye opener in terms of seeing the intention of everyday media and shining a light on the neat, little boxes we're supposed to fit in.

Bare: On Women Dancing, Sex and Power

by Elisabeth Eaves

A peek behind the curtain, Bare, explores the power of the female body and the industry behind it. Eaves gives firsthand accounts of what it means to be seen as a pair of breasts and a set of legs in today's culture.

Cunt: A Declaration of Independence

by Inga Muscio

If you know me well you already know this book. Gun to my head I'd claim it as my favorite. Read at a time when the world was a spinning cesspool of hormonal lust laughs, Miss Muscio made sense. Lady love over here begins by breaking down the origin of words that today make soccer moms cringe. From there she shares stories dealing with the "complications" and misunderstandings that come from owning your very own cunt. I swear on my female bits that this piece of literature changed my life.

Rise of the Trustfall
by Mindy Nettifee

This book of poems is magical. Mindy carefully weaves stories of heartbreak and triumph with her words.

"There is no breakthrough without breakdown."

Watch her in action here:
The First Time

We are all on drugs.

I finally realized the other day why my Dad didn't want to listen along as a younger version of myself discovered the joys of Weezer or other bands of my formative years. It wasn't that he didn't like music. He's always had a vast library of songs from years past. He simply didn't have time appreciate the angst-filled heartbreak that Rivers Cuomo so deliciously delivered.

He was too busy worrying about switching from cable to satellite...again...or what the neighbor's lawn looked like.

As I walk the cold, uneven pavement of Medina I often observe the neat rows of cars filling the driveways. All of the roads named for trees that no longer live here. I imagine what each house could be busy doing. What brings everyone together tonight? A Tupperware party? A book club meeting? Maybe a group of middle-aged housewives are blushing over a pile of marked-down neon-colored vibrators and talking about the sex they don't have? All while drowning their worries in chip dip and boxed wine.

It's all the same. Somewhere along the line we just start ordering our lives from catalogs. Prepackaged notions of what it all should look like. For only three payments of $19.95 + S&H.

Somehow THOSE things become more important than actual moments, real feelings. If you managed to escape it in or after high school it's there waiting for you to move on in to the suburban dream. To fill your garage with the most impressive power tools and closet full of safe, business-casual attire.

So, to the king of the road over there, "The World Has Turned and Left Me Here" sounded like a bunch of whiny assholes who needed to grow up and start balancing a check book already. "We Are All On Drugs" spoke for itseḷf, never intending to cater to grown-ups anyway.

I come to you today open, honest, and genuine. With my words, music and playthings I try to be me. What feels right and natural. I allow my whole self to shine through.

I recognize the importance of expression.

"One day", he said, "you'll get your head out of the clouds."

"Someday you'll stop living in a dream world."

Twenty-some years later, no such luck.

You don't have to think inside the box or even outside--as they often tell the free-spirited. It really doesn't even have to be a box. It could be a bag. Whatever it is, we don't have to subscribe to the idea that we shouldn't be what we are, who we are.

All of the beauty waiting to burst forth should not be contained.