ff

over the last few weeks, as i spend hoards of time scrolling through images on tumblr, i have been thinking a lot about nudity. something i haven't engaged in much since i was in art school... the thinking. i essentially see nudity in two ways.

one where it is this totally whatever thing, such a regular and mundane thing. anatomy. part of learning colour and light and flesh as an artist. it becomes universal and boring, almost. i hated drawing and painting nudes by the end of my art school career because it was so booooring. i felt like i could only tell an interesting story when there were clothes involved. and otherwise they were just studies. technical. and so the naked body was very 'meh!'.

but then, too, there is the politicalized/objectified/sexualized/empowered/inhibited body. (hey look! it s almost only ever the female body that ends up in this second category...) where body politics are so real and so polarizing... and of course such a huge part of feminism. bodily autonomy  is such a massive goal for women. how we handle our bodies. whether we have the freedom to choose both internally and externally how our bodies go through the world. when we are still slut-shaming and putting in women's hand the responsibility to not be sexual victims rather than attempting to progress the idea that maybe men should be responsible for whether or not they objectify and victimize. nakedness, then, is a very big thing. a short skirt is dangerous. is an act of rebellion.

so it is very conveniently timed that the following piece came my way this week:

*topless jihad day

and i thought YAY but also hmmmmm... how do i feel about women getting their tits out for a cause? the part of me that thinks of bodies as kind of silly things and nudity and really not a big deal thinks 'yeah! shake it up, ladies. ra ra! show the absurdity of women's breast being such a scandalizing thing when they are JUST BREASTS! just flesh. haha. wooo!' but the part of me that worries about the 'male gaze' and what bodies we deem appropriate to look at (aka skinny, conventionally pretty, young) and the degree to which these women are becoming, always, again, objects.

and then, YAY OH YAY! a really aces conversation on a facebook wall in response to the response to the above piece. allow me to quote some of the cool folks on the facebook machine. (THANKS JENN DUNCAN AND PALS!)

jenn said:
'As a woman, my main issue is with this persistent idea that by turning our bodies into objects -- even if we're the ones choosing to do so -- women will somehow break through age-old cultural taboos, customs, and laws that keep us socially and legally constricted.
... 
What remains interesting to be is what it means when women use their bodies as part of a subversive tactic. Is this an attempt to desexualise the body or are women using this to shock and sexualise the debate? What are the implications of these tactics?'

to which the replies ran as follows:
adele wessell:
'I'm really torn on this. For the first time in ages I haven't known how I felt about a protest action. Aren't they saying ths is my body and don't they get such a huge media response that might contribute to highlighting different issues than are normally reported...? At the same time I also find it hard to imagine people taking the bare breast seriously and it also not attracting a whole lot of creeps who like the femen Facebook pages for very different reasons. Is the measure of a good protest strategy the outcome or the debate. I've struggled... Not sure.'
jess duncan:
'I fully share your perspective. Women should own their bodies and attempts to de-sexualise the female body are fundamental to feminism, so long as they also respect sexuality, but I don't really think this is about that. I just get stuck on using the feminine body as a tool in political protest seems to reinforce so many of the challenges they are fighting. It's a tension inherent to late capitalism taken to a corporeal level. It's not their bodies on the line, it's their boobs and they don't control how the images are used which is where it gets more messy for me.'
emma hooper:
'I agree with Jess Duncan here, especially as all the footage I've seen (and since I notice this, I've been looking up lots) is of, well, hot girls. Where are are the women over 40's breasts? Is this, in some way, reinforcing the idea that a woman's body should be free and her own... so long as she's young and hot: aka not her own at all? I understand that there is a certain demographic drawn to protest, and that's fine, of course. But there's one striking picture of a cute 20-something topless girl protester next to a fully clothed 60-something woman protester. What's the message there?'
desmond leo:
'Societal change is quite often dictated by the extremes because those extremes set the boundaries for which to gauge the appropriate middle (so to speak). I absolutely applaud the case of the Fems using nudity as protest because it redefines the playing field. When one side of the argument is literally threatening death because a woman is improperly dressed (not even because they're naked), what else can you do but challenge that control with complete defiance? As for why there are not many older women who are naked and protesting in the same way - it is not because young women tend to sexualize their bodies - it's because the younger generations are still bold and ideological enough to challenge such ingrained institutions. Sure, in a perfect world, mature discourse would be the way to go. However, many of the freedoms we currently take for granted were at one point "extreme" and we only have those freedoms now because at one point a group of men/women decided to challenge that standard by "dressing naked" (figuratively speaking).'
cathleen kneen:
'Jess, I wouldn't go tops-off for the same reason that I quit smoking pot: If I am going to make a political statement, I want it to be clear and difficult to misinterpret. It is certainly true that media pick up on such actions, but I have never been able to trust the media to adequately communicate my message.' 

and there was more, too, said. but those are the ones that sum up nicely and ask the questions i like to see asked. i am very glad that this kind of discourse is happening in my world.

and now i will direct you off on a slight tangent, but one that has been a relevant backdrop to my thinking. snp wrote about nudity vs nakedness, and the conventions of beauty. (i love what she says about how she is never as happy being complimented on her 'natural' self rather than on her made-up dressed-up self. about the biased and very much rammed home idea of conventional beauty... 'natural' beauty... what we deem 'worth' looking at.) 

*no body is too nude for a billboard 

AND THAT'S IT FOR THIS WEEK! hahaha. that's all. did you make it all the way down here? my money is on mom, dad, and chris having dropped out way back around the first link... but if you did make it here. CONGRATULATIONS! YAY! i will give you a cookie next time we hang out. how's THAT! ha HA! 

happy friday, every bodies! 

ughoooops

 {my new bedroom curtain that makes me wanna punch the air i love my room so much}

i just spent a few minutes thinking (like reeeeally thinking) about my friends (like the magical unicorn ones who are made out of love) and how much i love them and how some of them are sad and i wish they weren't, even though i know that sad is an important thing to be sometimes and i wouldn't trade back my sads for anything but still i wish i could make it go away because (what reason do i need when you already know they are magical unicorns?)...

so now i'm a little sad but bursting, too, with the lovingest bits. ooooops. ooof.

grandma's candy bowls

{borrowed from here}

sometimes (maybe around the holidays, say) do you sit in bed at night not being able to sleep and just crying happytears because the love that you have in you for the humans in your life is just too much to handle? and you think about them one by one and you're just trying to keep it together because holy holy holy god, how did you get so lucky and where on earth did they come from? and you can't, in this moment, even fathom being anything but happy and filled with love - even though you know you surely will feel sad or tired or mad or nothing soon enough, but right now it just doesn't even make sense to feel just exactly like this joyloveexplode?

mercy me (the night is long)

*warning. this post is heavy and has swears. i wrote it late last night during a particularly angry bout of the night-time-sads. i thought about not posting it. but i try to give valid time and space to my night-time-sads even in the much calmer light of day. because they are very much a part of me and they are as real and as fleeting as anything else. so being honest with them is being honest with myself and you. but don't worry. i'm fine.*

{photo by james nord}

i am so lonely it is killing me.

i hate that. because it is not that i can't be alone.

i love being alone.

i hate all those 'learn to spend time with yourself' preachy pieces. i am a master of doing things alone.
often i'd rather watch the play or the movie alone. for a less edited reaction. to actually feel the thing rather than moderate. so as to never make anyone uncomfortable? so as to be accommodating and apropos?

but i want my fucking someone, god damn it. i deserve my fucking someone. and sometimes it is so much a part of me - the lacking of that part of me - that i can feel it everywhere. and i want to throw up and i want to punch walls. and i want to scream at all the people who are doing it wrong. that it is unfair that they get to go around pretending. thinking they know better and that i could have what they have if i just relaxed or some bullshit. and i watch them smash and train wreck their way through. and i find it completely exhausting. i am completely exhausted.

all about e

i've thought a lot about how much of myself to put into this blorg-thing. how personal to get. part of me is always cautioning (in the voice of my mother...) to be careful. but then i am always a little too careful. a little too anxious. by nature. and being unashamed and a little over dramatic helps me remember that these feeelings that i am constantly feeeeling are not to be taken too seriously. which is all to say that this post will be about me and feelings and things that are maybe private. so. if you're here just for the fashion, feel free to skip over all of these words.

i hired a matchmaker. to make me a match.

the part of me that worries what the 'world' thinks is embarrassed. but most of me is just excited. because this city is big and hard and expensive and i love it so much, but it is big and hard and expensive. and my friends' friends are lovely, i'm sure, but wrong. and online is this sad space where most of my time is spent weeding through the worst of the worst trying to find the better and best... emma says i should write a something about eharmony titled 'overweight christians with bad grammer'. i try to be open minded. but i cannot ever imagine myself with someone in their late 20's or ealry 30's who doesn't know that 'alot' is in fact two words. and thinks that a woman who drinks scotch is an alcoholic. (yes. this is an eharmony question... 'what do you think of a woman who drinks scotch?' and a tragic amount of men think she must have an unhealthy relationship with the booze because no woman ever could just enjoy scotch, am i right?!) yes. i am a snob. but isn't it better to know that and be honest than to pretend i'm not? (or maybe i should stop thinking that wanting a high-functioning feminst-ish man is snobby. anyways.)

and then there are the okcupid types who like to say things like 'what up babe?' or 'hey sweet-cheeks!' and then insult my glasses. because negging is the best way. always. of course.

and i am not saying that they are all like that. just. a lot. (alot.) and it isn't fun. this sifting and sighing through, wondering how i am having to do this.

so. a new and exciting thing! a matchmaker. we have met. and she is sweet and funny and open and kind. i liked her right away on the phone, and just as much in person. and i am bubbly and eager again! nervous and smiling. and excited.

when we met and talked about what i wanted, she chastised me gently for being too open. (which seems funny to me knowing how judgmental i can be.) i explained that i have dated/loved men of many types and found them to be wonderful, so how could i possibly say 'only tall' or 'only slim' or 'only...' anything? education doesn't actually matter if they're smart and curious and eager... age doesn't actually matter if they're present and grounded... blah blah. the point. to all of this. is that i did get to thinking about what i want. but. not really from them. these potential matches. i mean. i made a list. but it is really all about me. and who i'd like to be in this ideal partnership. you can figure out what i mean. i suspect. so. here. is what i am thinking:

* i want you to want to spend your life with me because i am exciting.
* i do not want to get watered down.
* i want you to somehow, magically, draw me out and get me to really talk.
* i want to go on vacations where we lay around sweaty, drinking coffee and reading and smoking - even though we are not smokers - because it is romantic.
* i want you to take pictures of me until i am not self-conscious and until i look like actually-me.
* i want you to understand anxiety - that it is meaningless and all-encompassing.

and some more things, too, surely. but for now.
i haven't given this to my matchmaker. but if she does her internet research, she'll find it. (ha! HI!)

and now. i am going to go for drinks and have fun and not have any of this on my mind and just meet some humans.

to a town

june 1st was my two year anniversary with toronto.

and first there was a flood in my office building, shutting down the ttc and forcing me to take a long, unplanned walk in the rain wearing good heels. and then the next day there was a public shooting in my mall.

and i thought 'what gives, toronto? i thought we were happy together!'

but. then yesterday they (they) caught the culprit in the eaton centre shooting, or rather he turned himself in. (and they ALSO caught the crazy foot-mailer man...)
and i went to a grad exhibit for tala (aka kindergarten-friend) and saw her amazing fashion work up close. 
and i went to ballet class and was taught by an old alberta-friend, kate. (different from local, sarnia-kate. ugh. FRIENDS! have different names already!) and her partner turns out to be someone i met once back in calgary, too. and that was great.
and i ran into bryce on the streetcar and we got to catch up quickly.
and i got home to my lovely apartment with sarah and margene to talk to and cuddle (respectively).
all these pieces of home. here.

{on my walk to loblaws : watching baseball in christie pits}

{slutwalk : the path}

and mel moved in to her new house this week.
and stylist-sarah got a new puppy.

and then there were the usual things... the staples delivery-man who is so friendly. the fellow from the office across the hall who i get to chat with sometimes in the elevator. texts and calls from my friends. the subway-man who grins at me, and everyone else, every morning. the security guard at work who lends umbrellas and wears colourful ties. the path. the stylish people. the superintendent at home who is a ninja.

and i think 'yes. this is a very fine life i have. and this is a very fine place i live in.'

i don't know if i ever really believed that toronto could be the place. i don't think i really wanted it to be the place. because it is 'toronto' and blah blah. it isn't perfect. and there are for sure the bad bits of living in a 'big city'.

but i love it. i do. so much. i am so happy here. even when i'm not. this is a good place.

{friday night live dance party at the ROM}

happy two year anniversary, my city. thank you for welcoming me in. 

saved my life

this weekend was more laura, and dance partying at the ROM (taxidermy! dinosaurs!), and extension room, and re-watching ALL the HBO girls, and doing ALL the laundry. this weekend was great.

here's a video with some puppets!



we've been listening to humans 'wake up' around bikini village all weekend. it is great. (because i do. wake up. with a helmet on... each my cereal with a helmet on...) i couldn't find it on youtube, so i chose another humans song. cause. puppets.

(we learned about humans from rookie blue. 'wake up' was in the last episode. and. to answer the facebook-open-question of a friend of ours - who is keeping rookie blue on tv?! - we are. sarah and me. and now laura too. so. sorrry!!! we love it. tough!!)

happy cloudy monday, internets!