Through The Flower - My Struggle As A Woman Artist by Judy Chicago was a book I read this past week. There were many profound ideas presented between its covers and, I must admit, I was duly inspired. Keep plugging; it seemed to say to me. You are not alone. Many female artists do not have large studios to work in, despite what is depicted in major magazines - we are called "kitchen artists." Judy Chicago also participated in the feminism movement in the 1970's. She began an all-woman course of arts in Los Angeles. She opened a co-op gallery in that city as well. However, one of the main issues of the book, of having men understand women's art, was not satisfactorily solved.
I realize I'm stating the obvious when I say that women experience the world from a different point of view then men do. It's only natural and there is nothing wrong with this difference. However, when women are not respected for the people (and artists) we are, just because someone has a difference of opinion regarding a work of art, then we have a major problem. And despite all the progress we've made, there is still to a certain degree, where our own culture still indoctrinates women to be second-class citizens. We are taught that our natural bodies are not good enough, (Google any story on how much Photoshop and other portrait software is used in the advertising industry), to question our thoughts due to hormones, as well as second guess ourselves on a regular basis (ie; hormones again). The family unit is too dysfunctional. Love takes a backseat (or gets stuffed in the trunk), divorces happen and any children can become pawns in an egotistical tennis match between two people who now, for some reason or other, hate each other. And guess what? If you can't cut it, you just might as well just end your life, because you're never going to be good enough anyways.
Whew! Got a bit deep there, for a moment. So - where am I going with this? To be totally honest, I'm not sure. I realize that I cannot single-handed change society. I did, however, find a way for me to BE alive, well, and functioning to the best of my ability within this society. It works for me. You are going to have to do some self-discovery of your own, but feel free to use my example if you wish.
I followed my heart and did what I thought was best for myself as well as my family. I tried, to the best of my ability, to be a good role model for my daughters to pursue their passions career wise. I deeply love all four of my grandchildren and participate in their lives as much as I am able; building relationships, loving them, and respecting them for who they are. I try to nurture their gifts and talents. I tell them, as much as possible, to be the best person they can be.
Through experience, I learn. This past week was highly interesting and served up prime examples. At the beginning of the week, I was able to listen to a friend as she experienced her child leaving the nest a year earlier than expected. I had been through that change, not once, but twice. And both experiences were different on their own levels. I knew her pain and was able to hold her up as best I could. I did the same to support her when she thought no one else would understand.
A second friend that I met up with mid-week, said her and her husband were separated after 10 years of marriage and would divorce soon. As she filled me in on other details, as we hadn't seen each other in about two years, I was floored - I was not ready for that revelation. That conversation made me appreciate my husband Dave even more and the relationship we've built up over 33 years. I'm still a firm believer that marriage involves effort on a daily basis by both parties.
By the end of the week, another friend began a new job and she was stressed with all her new responsibilities. However, as she was becoming more familiar with it, the more she liked it.
While on the walk with my third friend, I zoned out for a moment thinking about all the drama that goes on in everyone's life, mine included. I was in my own head so much, that I walked out in a crosswalk only paying half-attention and almost got run over by a tourist. I didn't matter that the first lane of traffic had already stopped, that there was a police officer standing about ten yards away, and that I yelled at the out-of-state driver - who just stared straight ahead. There's also the fact that it's a state law to stop for pedestrians in crosswalks. About 20 minutes later, as my friend and I strolled the boardwalk, a women was passing by us and mentioned that she was the one who stopped in the first lane of traffic and was sorry that the other driver didn't even bother slowing down. I thanked her with my heart welling up with love. That evening, Dave said, "I'm glad that you're alive." "Me too", I replied.
I heard a story once of a boy on a beach full of starfish. The boy was throwing starfish back into the water. At the same time, an old man was walking past and asked the lad what he was doing. "I'm throwing them back in the water.", the boy replied. "What's it going to matter? There are thousands of them here.", the old man chided him. The boy responded, "It made a difference to that one I threw back."
Last Thursday, Dave and I got together with our youngest daughter and her two boys. We played a rousing game of tag on and around a jungle gym at a local playground. After a while, I noticed a piece of equipment off to my left near a fence. I asked Dave about it, said it was a sea-saw, and we checked it out. This see-saw was nothing like what we had as kids - there was room for four people, the seats were very comfy, and one could never be slammed into the ground. A politically-correct see-saw if you will. Dave climbed into one seat, and I in another, and we got a good rhythm going. I was transported back to when I was five years old - no cares, no worries, no thoughts, other than having a blast at the present moment. I was overcome with feelings of pure bliss.
In the end, I had a week full of experiences; interactions with people and read about another persons life experiences. Experience came in each moment. Each moment that comes together and forms a life. On numerous evenings last week, I had sore feet and tired legs from all the walking and playing. Dave asked, "Was it worth it?" I replied, "Most definitely. My soreness proves a life well lived."
Until next time, how's your life going?
Jill
No comments:
Post a Comment