I found something on the other side of the fence I mentioned in march 20th's entry. I found that many things have become a long time ago. In that wonderful way that time represents itself as arbitrary. All the huffaw in Claudette's blog over the burlesque stuff was a great read. Discourse over how levels & sources of education relate to intelligence, thoughts about who among the ladies get to be feminists, whose points ought to be taken with deepest thought based on backgrounds & circumstances. Hmmm. I went back to the Burlesque photo homepage and read a letter I had written myself in response partially to an entirely different set of issues raised about the show before the last. So long ago it felt to me that it actually felt strange to have it brought to the forefront of this new discourse, which I believe to be a totally different matter than the last. Hmmm. In any case I've jumped some fences since then & could only read as a spectator, I wasn't at the last show so have no comments to make.
I did make a little comment about the rich white middle class thing but truthfully, it came from a different experience. I never like generalized racial / class statements and the power they have to erase an individual's experience. For the record I could care less that I grew up under the North American poverty line. Still made me better off than 3/4 of the world. We grew food, we read books. We self educated. My mother was/is a proficient intellectual/soul provider. When my siblings actually grew into the realization that there were class structures she told us: "your cash is in your brains, make your deposits there"
I oughta rename my blog "Word to my Mother".
I am constantly discovering the firm ground she laid out for me.
As for being as tired as I was on that fateful march evening causing the serious furrow in my brow & reminiscing over carefree times when the path ahead seem laid with humour... ah well... as a friend said today you have your past & you have what you are right now.
I'm accomplishing tremendous amounts & my true love's arms have grown succintley (sp?) wise to the parameters of my stretching soul which beats all. Which really beats all.