bend don’t break

artist: Mel Kadel title: Pusher Woman

There are crazy people in positions of power that are attempting to pull women’s rights into the dark ages.  Last time I checked, abortion was legal in the United States. It certainly isn’t accessible but it is legal, as legal as getting a root canal or breast implants.

I used to escort women and their partners (boyfriend, baby daddy, mother, friend, etc.) into abortion clinics. (Note: There were many patients that were there to simply get birth control or take pregnancy tests.)  The anti-choice protesters were relentless and incredibly cruel.  Their weapons were fear, intimidation, and lies.  It was brutal and wore on one’s soul.

Patients didn’t fully realize the extent of the situation until they heard the verbal assaults as they left the comfort of their cars. They had been informed when they made their appointments of the potential for confrontation but until you are witness to such absurdity, it sounds conspiratorial. As I slowly approached the patient’s cars, I was often assumed to be part of the threat. The bright yellow “pro-choice escort” vest was invisible on my body.

I shouldn’t have even been there; it was actually quite stupid when you gave it some thought.  I volunteered my Saturday mornings to help people from their car, escorted them across a parking lot, and got them safely inside a licensed health care facility.  If I was helping people (women) get their eyes checked, you could argue I wasted hours and suffered unnecessary sunburns and frostbite.  But because these women were attempting to take agency over their own lives, their own bodies, I had to perform such a function.

I don’t know how to fight crazy.

my heart is weltschmerz

Valentine’s Day. Meh.

“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads – at least that’s where I imagine it – there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.” — Haruki Murakami Kafka on the Shore

Juliao Sarmento

ironic vulnerability

Living in a state of duality is probably not helping my memory recall. There are small moments within the passing days that spark neurons to remind why you do the things you do. From brave introductions, misuse of the word ironic, and over-sharing, there is repressed anticipation at the thought of it only being a Wednesday.

It’s been sunny and dry here; I empathize for those east of me.

So it is a fact: the internet is not 24/7.

Finding joy and creativity in states of vulnerability is a theory.  Implied within this construct is choice.  What happens when you try to apply such a construct to a contemporary problem, like over 75% of the creators of “knowledge” are men or exceptions are predicated on evidence of force? Does this vulnerability manifest itself in feelings of joy or an outpouring of creative expression? This query is not to discredit a very probable logic since I see and know evidence to the contrary. I wish instead that we didn’t have to suffer vulnerability at all.

artist: jeannie phan "contour drawings"