Stevie Laid Out by Artos, May 2005.
Been thinking about:
I’ve come to realize that needless suffering, particularly about the past, is becoming useless/purposeless to me. Let me explain. I used to fret and pout about things that happened to me as a child, like growing up in house with embattled working class parents and four other raggity kids. My heart always tightened up when someone would say, “Oh, we didn’t have much, but we had love.” Love? Yes, we had love, but it too was in short supply. The sticky painful residue of my childhood crept into everything I do, the way I treat others and myself. My biases, prejudices, my stereotypes, my lack of trust. What I am grappling with now are several things:
1) Why is it important to hold on to the pain?
a) maybe because it is safe
b) because I feel I deserved it
c) because it’s too hard to deal with the world on a daily basis with an open heart and mind
2) How do I benefit from marinating in the past?
a) I don’t have to be present
b) I can hang on to my good opinion of myself
c) I never have to change
3) How can the past help me?
a) maybe to remember more than just the pain
b) re-examining the pain: what really happened?
c) learn to give myself (and the world) things that I think I lack
d) forgive my parents for things they wouldn’t/couldn’t do; they did what they could
4) How does letting the past go make me feel?
I don’t think I have learned much from my early life experiences. Perhaps that’s why I am preoccupied with what (I believed) happened in my childhood. The what/who/where/when/why/and hows of my childhood are fascinating to me. I know I haven’t been forthcoming with anecdotes, but that’s on purpose. I am working through a few things, and after I take a few more swipes at ‘em, I’ll open up my hope chest and show you what I’ve collected and disassembled.
So, in addition to a number of a thousand things I do on any given day because I love the work and I love what I do and really, can you blame me? Good people, good food and occasionally a great foot massage, this here life is for the living!
I am blown away by your love (get it? Windy City?)
Loving Chi-Town from Friday to Monday.
Out of the Margins: GLBT Librarians, Libraries, and Literary Activism
Day & Date: Saturday: 6/25/2005
Time: 01:30 pm – 03:30 pm
McCormick Place Convention Center, N426a
From activism in the profession, to the creation of specialized libraries and archives that document and celebrate GLBT life and history and the production of creative literature that resist boundaries, these individuals are ensuring that Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer existence is neither relegated to the
margins nor hidden on the shelves.
Speakers: (the fabulous) Reginald Harris, Poet & Librarian, Enoch Pratt Free Library; Natalie Kendall, Librarian, Leather Archives & Museum; tatiana de la tierra, Information Literacy Librarian, University of Buffalo; Joe Tragert, Marketing VP EBSCO Publishing, EBSCO GLBT Life Database Project; Paul Keith, Librarian, Gerber/Hart Library; and Steven G. Fullwood, Founder, Black Gay & Lesbian Archive.
There are a couple of cool people I need to see and hug like the great actor/writer/activist Sanford Gaylord, who I have had the pleasure of knowing and working with for the past few years. Here’s a link to his work.
Fortunately for me, a very nice man by the name of Sidney Thomas will be hosting a reading for me at his home. I’ll also share some information about the BGLA as well. I plan to be on my bestest behavior and maybe try a little cologne. For more info email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Friend on the Mend
Back in New York: A good friend of mine is getting better. All his tests came back, including a biopsy, and everything’s negative. No cancer, no immunity issues. He’s gaining weight, slowly. He doesn’t know what put him in the hospital (dehydration) is a result of. Saw him yesterday. He’s in good spirits. My diagnosis: I think he works too hard, and was rather devastated by an ex-boyfriend’s recent death.
Reading a play by a friend. Excellent writer. The dialogue is off the hook.
Think..that protein is good for me, even the animal kind, occasionally. Still inching towards vegetarianism and learning to cook, but it is soooo very hard. My body likes smaller meals and very little animal anything.
My body feels strong, looks good, my arm and chest muscles and ass rounder. Ego off the charts.
Becoming…comfortable with learning my own Godness. I say boo to needless suffering. I say boo to keeping one’s crazies all inside. I am thinking of how to do this life thing better.
My kid…calls me and leaves a Father’s Day greeting on my answering machine. How sweet, particularly because all day Sunday everyone, including strangers, were wishing me Happy Father’s Day and all I could think of was the A-to-the-N-to-the-D-to-the-R-to-the-E.
Ran into…much-shorter-than-I-expected, kind of scary Paul Mooney. Right on the corner of 125th and 5th Avenue. I had on my skinny cycling sweatpants, and he had on his gaydar. We chatted, and I asked if he does interviews. Give me a card, he said, and I did. Mooney told me he doesn’t do the Internet, that it’s for white people (imagine that.) Then he went on to say (non sequiter) that the only reason he has a cell phone (another white people thing, I guess) is that his mom is ill and that his brother is taking care of her. Cell phones bad for your head, all that radiation. Mooney now lives in Harlem because he’s doing a morning show on WLIB, or WBLS, I forget. We stand in silence for a second before we shake hands and say our goodbyes. I doubt that he calls.