welcome to the next chapter...

once a long time ago, i read on a blog, "i am a lesbian but thats not all i am". i was then just teetering on the edge coming out as a lesbian. back then, although i understood what she was saying, i was completely drowning in that one dimension of my identity. i knew then i was more than also but such turmoil tends to shrink your field of vision. it is scary and exciting and anticipatory and it is exhausting.

i am almost 5 years out now. some things look differently in my life. some things are the same. but i revel in the knowledge that i am a lesbian and in the knowledge that i really am more than just... my field of vision has grown to include the wide open spaces of life's endless possibilies.

for those of you who know me, you will be able to find the familiar places of my old writings which i will have on the sidebar. for those who stumble upon me and find yourself confused by fragmented references or are struggling to come out later in life, you will find the Closer to Fine link most helpful. I recommend reading it from the beginning, it makes more sense.

one more thing, blame my lack of capital letters on e.e. cummings...

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

its genetic...

one of my favorite author/narrator is Garrison Keillor.   i don't think of him often but when i do, the last few lines of Lake Wobegon instantly appear in my head,

"Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known."
Garrison Keillor.
it may take a few times to read it and digest it to understand its full meaning.  all i know is that it delights me.  its really not a stretch to compare his statement to Dorothy when she woke from her technicolor coma,
Dorothy: "Well, I - I think that it - it wasn't enough to just want to see Uncle Henry and Auntie Em - and it's that - if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"
i am oddly pulled to "old world" pictures and collectibles.  i don't mean "old" old, but nostalgic replications of "old".   Thomas Kincaid has often tried to lure me in to collecting his porcelain houses complete with street lights, snow, carriages and hurried shoppers, men tipping their top hats to passers by as they make their last minute purchases,  women with long flowy dresses, adorned with fancy hats, furs to block out the cold,  white gloves and buttoned shoes, window shopping in pairs.  it all looks so beautiful and when i see these things there are feelings that well up in me.   feelings as if i have lived there, known that life and i become melancholy and home sick.  how funny to be home sick for a time that i never lived.  perhaps that time never did exist.  artists and the like do like to prey on our yearning for simpler, more romantic, more polished time.  i.e. Norman Rockwell.
" the good old days".  what does that mean really?   these villages Thomas Kincaid sells never existed in my experiences.  but yet i feel the memories.  a friend, a long time ago suggested that it was just in our genetic makeup to be attracted to that unknown era which Thomas Kincaid loses himself in his gardens, landscapes and his collectibles.  i suppose you can buy the fantasy through installments of more money than you can really afford.  yet you still feel the yearning.  its as if by owning these beautiful things will make us feel comforted and back to our youth.  but again,  my youth never looked like that.

i tried my best for many years to make that "certain something" come alive in my home.  God it was so exhausting i finally cried uncle.   a full blown Martha Stewart nervous breakdown.  no more electric reindeer on the lawn for me.

here and now really isn't all that bad.