My previous post on Amanda Palmer sent me down the internet rabbit hole of my own queer sensibilities. Queer, not necessarily gay, but weather I was sexually attracted to men or not, I'd still be kinda queer. I grew up listening to New Wave, Riot Grrl, and experimental art-rock, was obsessed with modern art, film and subversive post modern literature. A large majority of my heros were/are women. I've been a feminist activist and critic (woohoo free swag rocks) my entire adult life.
I remember the first time I saw Warhol's Factory-era work. I was awestruck
Okay call me a pretentious 6th grader but I totally fucking GOT IT!
Okay call me a pretentious 6th grader but I totally fucking GOT IT! I spent the nineties obsessing over indie bands, Sassy Magazine, and moving far away from the miniscule town in Georgia I called home. It's not a bad place to be from for sure, but no exactly where I wanted to be. I idolized Kim Gordon, Kim Deal and Kathleen Hanna. 
I bought a bass and started writing minor key 16 minute songs drenched in feedback, and you bet your chuck taylor all-stars (or pre-requisite Doc Martins)I had purple hair and hopeful idealistic attitude. I had my first boyfriends around this time. We talked art, politics (it was the Clinton era) ,music, Lollapolloza line-ups. We sat up all night secretly reading Sassy Magazine, drinking stolen booze from my catering job, ineptly fucking, smoking pot, making bad art and big plans.
Where are we now. I 'm happily almost-kinda-sorta-married to a wonderful artist who is truly a renaissance man (He acts! He models! HE's a celebrity stylist! He's a respected illustrator and storyboard artist! He's becoming a ASL interpreter?!?!?!) I live in the gorgeous and inspiring (not to mention isolated and über-liberal) Pacific Northwest. I went from being isolated and insular to having a great bounty of intimate connections to the people around me.
I recently found my self at a crossroads I never thought possible and saw myself and my best friend of 16 years parting ways. Some see a glass ceiling and feel comforted below it, safe under it's shelter. I see it I want to smash it to pieces, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator style -all the way to new worlds. His life reached plateau, and he resigned himself to stay their. There is a longing and ache inside me so deep I thought my soul was breaking. I could call him a coward, tell sordid details of is ultimate betrayal, look at the action an choices from a million angles, but what good does that do. He set up homestead on the plateau, I've leapt of the other side, looking for new mountains to climb.
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