On reading Henry James

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category

I find lately,

that I read,


that I reflect on what I read,



just as eating slower,


my old ass digestion,

so does,

reading slow,

improve the experience,

the digestion,



I have been reading Henry James,

The American,



is not one of his best known works,

it was originally serialized in a magazine

for years, I resisted,


thought to myself,

boring old dead white guy,

I know, I know, I’m narrow like everyone else, sometimes.


just as,

I changed my mind,

about Thomas Hardy,

a few years ago,

I am now re-considering my view of James.

Slow, has it’s good points,

to be sure.

I believe,

there are a few reasons,

why I now appreciate these,




having read many books,

I have learned to appreciate,

the well crafted,

the subtle?



I think for me,

the biggest reason,

may just be,

that I need quiet time,

to breath, to think,

to be still in my mind,


this kind of writing,

inspires that,

putting the book down,


thinking about it,

taking your time.

In a world of constant stimulation,

three or four conversations at once,

on the chat, Facebook, text,

I need to go away,

I need to turn off.

I like my gadgets,

my being able to be in touch,

at all times,


even if I am not as busy,

as some people,

my brain is rarely quiet,



Henry James, Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen,

they are the equivalent of a good,


with someone,

wise, astute, older,

you don’t agree with everything they,


but, it is an intelligent discourse,


No need to impress,

to best,

sitting in silence,

sipping something,

enjoying the sun,

the breeze,

a slow smoke,

good company.


grounds me,


I find myself in awe of his,

meticulously crafted sentences,

his insights,



I just listen,


being me,

every once in a while,

I feel compelled to,

in my most genteel voice,


“I really must disagree with you there, Mr James”

I would never call him Henry:-)


I am enjoying,

the experience,

reading is so many different things,

to me,

to everyone,


reading Henry James,

is sitting back,

in a wing chair,


life is also good,

when slow.

Later girls,



Posted in Book Love | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Personal and collective past, culture

canadian blog awards Winner GLBT category.

The older you get, the more you become, aware of the passage, of, time, of the past, personal past, collective past.

As an only child, raised by very intelligent, and, aware individuals, I always felt, a little bit, older. My conversations, from a young age, were with, adults, smart and kind adults, but, adults.

I talked, pretty much before, I did anything else, and, like most of my generation, I was raised playing outside, biking, and, Summer camp, and, always, TV. Much maligning of TV, by many people, but, television taught me, so much, about everything, of course books, but, they came a little later, TV, was there from the first. Television, today, is very different, lots of choice, lots of crap, also, lots of quality entertainment. It is no longer, consumed, in the same way.

As a kid, we watched TV, as a family, which meant, we watched what, my dad thought was best. Hockey was on Saturday nights. But, on Saturday and Sunday mornings, the TV was all mine, so cartoons, and, on Sunday, American preachers, quite the education. One thing we always watched, before the advent of VCRs and DVD, was movies, in French, in English, with subtitles, we were, all of us, movie junkies. In my teen age years, and, later, well into, early adulthood, I was obsessed with, old black and white, films, screwball comedies, and, drama, always, drama. For a while I wanted to be, an actress, ridiculous, but, it was an obsession like any other. I read tons, about movies: biography, histories, about the studio system, and stars, and later, criticism and film theory, movies, are one of my great loves.

So old sitcoms, on TV, and, black and white film, were a big part, of my culture, Both taught me, and, sparked interests in, history, literature, they taught me about, the use of language, timing, style. They gave image, texture, to my dreams.

On the same day, this week, we lost two representatives, of both those genres. The great Robin Williams, Robin-Williams who was so smart, and so funny, who made you laugh, and, think so fast, you missed half the jokes, because, really, who could catch everything, that came out of him? Lovely, crazy, outrageous man. Like many comics, he was very smart, and, troubled. His performances in, Dead Poets Society, and, Good Will Hunting, touching, human, and, also, funny, he couldn’t help himself. I knew Williams, since Mork, and, I had never seen a comic like him. His passing is very sad, not surprising, he felt very deeply, that much was obvious.

Practically at the same time, we learned of the passing, of, Lauren Bacall. Lauren Bacall - 1966 - Hollywood Women1 I loved Lauren Bacall. She was so sexy, smart, smoky, take no prisoners, kind of woman, you believed she was, woman enough, for Bogart.

I confess, I had a thing for her, could see myself, trying to woo her, silly, young butch fantasies. I read her book, By Myself, a good read, from all points of view, growing up, in a single parent home, growing up Jewish, poor, and falling in love, with a much older married co-star, raising children pretty much, on her own, excellent read, one of my favourite, Hollywood autobiographies. But, it is the Bacall after Bogart, I find most appealing, a mature, still young woman, great strength, great poise, she lived a nice long life. May she rest in peace.

In a way, losing, Williams, and, Bacall, is losing a part, of my past, both personal and collective. I did not know, these people and yet, I did. Sad to lose them, glad I knew them.

Later girls, BB

Posted in My Ramblings | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Bookish Butch Esq.

canadian blog awards

Winner GBLT category

I hope this post,

finds all of you,




tip top,

Summer shape.

I am feeling fantastic,



clear headed strong.

I spent a most enjoyable,


caught up with my love,

spent a good portion,

of Sunday,

exploring and photographing,


a pretty town.

Took the bus back to,

the beautiful ugly,

through pretty farm lands,

bright sunshine,

a good book,

alone with my ideas,

my thoughts,

allowing my mind to wander.

Quite the luxury,

time to yourself,

I get more than most,

I feel I need it,


to balance,

what my lady calls,

my social butterfly side.

Monday was very quiet,

reading Henry James on the balcony,

a few errands,



I like my week to begin,


I visited my accountant,


I used to own a bookstore,

this required,

tax forms,

too complex,

for the mathematically challenged butch,

that I am.

I closed the bookstore,


the last tax return needed to be,


of course, I was late, but, no biggie

it occurred to me,

after Nadia, the lovely Russian woman who does my taxes, asked me if I would keep a business name, if I would continue working for myself…

I should create a new,

name for my creative,


I’ve had a biz name and email,

associated with my former bookstore,

for ten years,


I don’t want to keep it,

I want to keep,

the past in the past,

I want to keep moving,



I came up with,


secured a new name,

bookish butch esq.


I am not a lawyer,

nor  an aspiring knight



I do like the sound of it,

the connotations,

gentleman butch,


has a certain,

je ne sais quoi,



quality about it,

I think,

I hope.

So that’s my new branding,


I ordered some cards,

not too many, trying it out:-)

They simply state,

I write, I photograph,


the flip side has the new header picture on it.

I liked the shot I had before,

very much,


it belonged to a friend of mine,

this one is all mine.

I write, I photograph,

I am bookish butch Esq.

Living the dream,

lucky butch.

Be well all of you,

chin up.

Later girls,



Posted in My Ramblings | 4 Comments

Little Black Clouds

canadian blog awards


Winner GLBT category

Yo, Girls, Wassup?

I am having a very good week,

looking  forward to seeing,

my lady,


Still reading Montaigne,

it’s work,


I like it,

stimulates the ‘ole’ neurons.

I am also retackling,

Henry James,

in the form of a lesser,

and, thus easier,


The American,

perfect size for commuting,


stashing in my bag,

future Broccoli reads post in the making

Working most nights,

this week,

at my survey monkey gig.

I like this job,

go figure,

uses my people skills,

not too much brain output,

just enough,

keeps me fresh to focus,

on creative tasks.

This type of work attracts,

a certain kind of person,

sure there are the,


the immigrant,

the unilingual,

who need to get their feet wet,

acquire job experience,


there are also,

many examples of people,

with mental health issues,


very smart,

personable even,


who have trouble fitting in,

this job is a job,

for the misfit.

Some misfits,

are endearing and entertaining,



there are,

the little black clouds,

everything is bad,

they are always victims,

the job,

well any job,

is beneath them,

pain in the ass.

It’s hard to put up with people,


don’t play well,

with others.

I have a special talent,

this is quantifiable and I have numerous examples of it

I attract black clouds,


my whole life.

The ones everyone,




they all love me,

some might see it as a curse,

I often do



it is also an opportunity to learn,

about human nature.


at work,

I have been sitting,

not by choice, mind you!!

next to one of the most persistently,

black cloud people,

I have come across.

From the moment her ass,

hits the chair at 5 pm,

to the moment she leaves,

she bitches,


If I am having a good night,

it’s because I’m lucky

and she is so unlucky,

woo is her,

I tell you it’s enough to make,

an ole butch,


I believe I do better at,

the survey monkey thing,


A) I don’t hate people (key component)

B)I am, pleasant.

Pointing this out to her,

would be mean,



so I don’t.

I have never though of myself,

as an optimist,

I have a contradictory personality,


works for me.

Little black clouds,

confuse me,

how can they think,

everything is bad,

that the whole world is out,

to get them.

Don’t they experience,

wind in trees?

good cups of coffee?

the purr of cats?

holding someone they love,

in their arms?




egg rolls?

Life is big joys,

little joys,



heartache too,

of course,


dog knows I am no Pollyanna,


I am alive,

happy and grumpy,

sometimes sunshine,

sometimes rain.

I guess the black clouds,

or the everything is always peachy keen,


make me appreciate and see,

the nuance and joy,

of being,


I guess


Later girls,



Posted in My Ramblings | 4 Comments

On myth and menopause

Winner GLBT category. Good morning all, hot day here in, the beautiful ugly. I’m feeling good, I’m feeling strong, I’m feeling loved, I’m feeling happy, and as Irene Cara used to sing, What A Feeling for you young ones who … Continue reading

More Galleries | 4 Comments

Gifts and conscience

canadian blog awards

Winner 2013 LGBT category

Hello girls,

how are you?

Summer treating you well?

Getting out and smelling the roses?

I sure hope so


This is my very,

first post,

on my new MacBook,

well, new to me.

It was  a gift,

from my friend Chris,

one of my oldest,



dearest friends.

I don’t think,

at this point,

I need to tell you all,

how important and dear to me,

my friends,


You know I don’t think you could find a luckier butch, friendship wise, just saying

On Sunday,

we had a memorial brunch,

for my anarchist.

There has been much,

ugliness and pettiness,

surrounding the estate and the memorial,

it is hard,

to understand,

peoples motivations,


in the case of some people,

at all times,


it is done,

thanks to the,

stellar negotiation skills,

of his oldest friend.

Francoys will travel back,

to the North,

with his beloved son.

A fitting resting place,

in the cold and the snow,

he loved both.

I miss him,

so much.

But, I have no regrets.

We knew,

both of us,

just what we meant to each other,

and dog knows,

it isn’t always like that,



no regrets part.

My dad,

used to say,

when I was a kid,

‘as long as you can look yourself in the mirror when you shave and not have your conscience bother you, you’re good’

Of course, I pointed out to dad, that women don’t shave, and for that matter, neither do all men, so we changed it to brush your teeth, everyone does that:-)

The notion of conscience,


has nothing to do,



It is truly,


living with yourself,

as a thinking and sensitive human being,


cutting yourself slack,


doing the best you can to be a good person.

I hear and read a lot of excuses,

on the part of people,

justification for inconsiderate behaviour,


prejudiced and idiotic opinions,

with this whole,

‘I am just me’


I indulge in it,


But, when I brush my teeth,

look in the mirror,

I bring myself back.

See, the thing is,

who the hell else but you, would you be?

Having a past,


even personality disorders,

is no excuse,

for being an ass,



Of course, I don’t mean,

we should not embrace,

our differences and marginality,

we should,

we must.



we must forgive,




for being scared.

But wallowing,


navel gazing,

must be kept to a minimum.

Like my dad,

I am a bit,

of a wallower,

I beat myself up,

I brood over things,


feel hard done by,

despair of the world,

My mom is nothing like that, she is a turn the page kind of a lady, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and keep calm and carry on, a very pragmatic thinker, and when things hurt too much or she can’t think anymore, she goes to sleep and says I’ll think of it tomorrow and often a solution/answer presents itself during the night, doesn’t work with us brooder insomniac types:-)


I let go,


I forgive,



I just need to work out,

why I acted or others acted,

the way I/they did,

can be a long process.

I know for others it is,

a weird way of being,

they move on,

I inch on,


once I have,


come to,

an understanding,

I go forward,

my boots plant firmly towards,

the next fork in the road.

The gifts I have received,

the cameras and now the new Mac,



most especially,

the love and friendship,

and measure of peace,

knowing that the big man,

was honoured as is fit,


will rest in peace,


ground me,

in the new,


towards the future.

Life and it’s blessings are beautiful,


I ain’t just whistling Dixie.

Later girls,







Posted in My Ramblings | Leave a comment

On losing one’s ‘sounding board’ and, the voices in your head

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category.

Good morning,


I hope all is well,

in your spot in the universe.

I’m doing ok,

the Summer is moving along,

there have been good parts.

I have spent some quality time,

with my mom,

we’ve had a few Sunday outings,

the movies,

the museum,

a few special lunches.

The month of August will,

be busy with barbecues and such,

lots of family,

seeing the kids,

as well as catching up,

with friends,

who I haven’t seen in a while.

I’m reading more,


more thought provoking stuff,

I told you all,

about Gender Failure,


I’ve just finished,

Lettres Philosophiques by Voltaire,

a work colleague lent it to me.


I have trouble getting through,

18 th century French,


this is clean prose,

in the form of letters,


to Paris,

I guess,

Voltaire describes British society,

it’s politics,

it’s science,

it’s religious aspects,

The Quakers,

The Anglican church,




it’s modernity.

If that sounds dry and tough to read,

to you,

you would be wrong,

reads very well.

Voltaire a true representative,

of the Enlightenment,



Perfect food for thought.

My friend the anarchist,

was a lover of the 18 th century,


it isn’t really until he wrote his,

biography of Kropotkin,

that he moved towards the 19 th,

he always said the 20 th century wasn’t yet history, still current events

the roots of 19 th century,

political thought and emancipation,

lay very much in the,

18 th century,

and it’s enlightenment.

As I read these books,


reacquaint myself with,

historical and philosophical writing,

I am struck,

over and over again,

by how much I have lost,

with the loss of my anarchist.

On a very personal and emotional level,

the loss is cataclysmic,

there was much love there,



very significantly,

as an intellectual sounding board,

it helped me to know what I think,

about things,

by discussing them with him,

he would always add something,

to my thoughts,


when it turned out we were,

in complete agreement,


we often were.

So as I read,

the Voltaire,

I kept thinking,

Francoys would think,

this is bunk,

or Francoys would say,


it isn’t near as satisfying as telling him,

about my reading,

and him telling me about his,


just as he lives in my heart,

he also lives in my head.

That sounds slightly,



I get that,


as I get older,

I realize that many ‘people’

live on,

in my head,

in my heart,


that coupled with my own,

little voices,

much discourse and discussion goes on,

in my cranium.

My grandparents are there,

my father,

my friend Betsy,



they are joined by,


I have many friends,

with whom,

I can discuss ideas,



live and share,

some have known me for a long time,


know me quite well,

love me and are loved back,

there is still discussion,


laughter in my life,

passion for growth, knowledge and discovery,


my sounding board is,

no more.

Until you lose someone,

who holds such stature,

in your life,

you cannot know,

the extent to which your life,

will change.

This does not mean you don’t,

love and appreciate the people in your life,

it means you cannot ‘know’

It has been a theory of mine,

for many moons,

probably stole it somewhere,

you must have friends who are,

smarter than you,

or bring something very different,

to the table,

you can never be,

the smartest or most charismatic,

because if you are,

you grow in no way,


in complacency,



You also need those piss you off,

kind of people,

they also,


accidentally or inadvertently,

hone your thinking skills.

I am blessed in all those categories,

smart and loving friends,

old and new,

very much alive in the material world,


also in my head and heart.

As a follow up to Voltaire,

I am reading,

on my e-reader,

the Essays Of Montaigne,

it is a very long read,

1400 pages,

3 volumes,


although Francoys made a face,

when I mentioned in December,

that I had gotten them off the,

Gutenberg Project,


Montaigne could be long and boring.

I don’t doubt,

he is right about that,

in more than a few ways,


the fact that Montaigne,

chose to live and think about,

what he really thought,

about life and all that it comprises,

in seclusion,

appeals to me,



he wrote what is the truest thing,

I have ever read about friendship,


what it means,

a mystery on a par,

with attraction and love.

If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I.” 
― Michel de MontaigneThe Complete Essays

Be well.

Later girls,



Posted in Book Love, My Ramblings | Leave a comment

The ‘work in progress’ is …progressing and some reading thoughts

canadian blog awards

Winner in the GLBT category

Hello you all,

rainy day here,

in my beautiful ugly.

Please don’t think,

I’m complaining,

I’m not,

give me rain over,

sticky dank heat,

any day.

My work in progress,

is progressing,

more and more notes,

adding up,

a memory stick full of pictures,


I even created a twitter account,

check it out,

join me,


Austin Kleon’s book,

Show your work,

suggested it was,

the favorite social media,

of writers.

Early days,


I can see enjoying it,


it will help with impulse control,

“gotta’ control yourself,

or those 140 words,

can get you in trouble


I just finished reading,

Gender Failure,

by Ivan E. Coyote and Rae Spoon,

a must read people,

will give you much to ponder,


make you laugh and cry,

lots of emotion,

lots of thought,

two astute minds,

collaborating to serve up,

a truly excellent book.

I think you all know,

the love and respect I have for Ivan,

a butch idol of mine,

respect brother.

Rae Spoon,

I am less familiar with,


equally impressed with,

the journey and grit that lead to this,




It brought forth  many questions,

I never realized,

I had about the trans experience,

if I can put it this way, but, actually that kind of, a ridiculous way of putting, because the experience is different for everyone,

all part of the vast,

human experience.

It made me think,



and that is what I value,

above all else,

in a book.

I saw their show,

Ivan and Rae’s,

Gender Failure,

last year with my friend, Francoys,

and so looked forward to reading,

and discussing it with him.


Don’t think for a moment,

“well, I saw the show, I know what the book is about”

it is a very different ‘creature’

both are excellent and complimentary in my opinion.

The show left a lasting impression,

I have discussed it with people,


pondered on it,

many times,


The book opened up a door,

Fran Lebowitz,

one of my all time favourite writers and speakers,

discusses this concept in a talk on Jane Austen,

A book should not be a mirror but a door.

By this she means it shouldn’t be about you,

or recognizing yourself,

but, a door to another world,

another world view,

a glimpse into someone else’s,

human experience.


I have read all of Ivan’s work,

’tis love,


now I want to explore,

more of Rae’s,

they appeal to me,

very much,


force me,

in a joyful way,

to explore my thoughts,

confront my acquired ideas.

That rocks


Austin Kleon in his,

Steal Like An Artist,


Share Your Work,

advises you to learn everything,

there is to know about artists who you love,

learn all their work.

I’ve been doing this for years, but, it is nice to see it articulated, I guess.

Ivan is right up at the top of artists and work I love.

A worthy book.

and this morning,

I came upon this,

on upworthy via face book

proof there isn’t only crap on fb

It added to my thoughts,

once you start,

chewing, marinating and pondering,

on a subject,

stuff turns up,

nice that,

so here is the link


Let me know what you all think,

about all this,

I’m off to steal and share.

Be well.

Later girls,





Posted in Book Love, Book reviews, My Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

Shades and Levis, the return of elements of butch style

canadian blog awards

Winner of GLBT category

For years,

I owned but didn’t wear,


I had a pair of Ray Bans,

which I have misplaced,


about 12-13 years ago,

I got these boss,

Armani shades.

I loved them,


they were a tad small,

for my moon face,



I am blind as a bat,

without my lenses,

I found carrying them around,


so they were usually,

in their case,

in the chest of drawers,

Fast forward a few years,

the sun is stronger and stronger,

here in the beautiful ugly,


just as I have given in,

to moisturiser and sun screen,

I dusted off the shades.

I wear and carry them around,

in my leather messenger bag,

all the time.

I like how they look,

cool and sleekly sophisticated,


I have discovered a few other things,

I vastly enjoy about them,

of course,

number one,

eye protection and clear vision,

a truly beautiful thing.




nobody sees the annoyed eye roll,

when wearing your shades,

you look people over without being obvious,

they are invaluable in observing people,



checking out girls,

This is purely a looking thing, BB is spoken for, and my heart is true


I’m liking the shades,

one of my butch icons,


would not be caught dead without his shades,

joe cool

bw and sunglasses

see the resemblance??

this pic was taken on Easter weekend, Starbuck’s in the Village by my talented friend(photographer, writer, filmmaker) Christos Tsirbas, check him out at  http://seetsirbas.com or http://evil-genius.ca

Ah the magic of photography,

he managed to make me look,

younger, slimmer and yeah,

a little more badass:-)

Point is,

shades are,

an essential element of butch style.

Wear what works for you,

what makes you feel suave,


able to leap tall buildings,

you can go,

weird and eclectic,


please don’t-

I implore you,

do that ironic hipster thing,

that’s just annoying and for kids


One of the reasons,

I can wear these,


my moon face is more,


a result of clean living, don’t you know, well, cleaner and leaner

Operation leaner better butch,

goes on,

a major work in progress,

I don’t mean it’s hard,

I mean it’s a baby steps thing.

The gut and everything else,

have shrunk,

the gut is still bigger than I would like but, I’m getting there.

Which leads me to another,

element of butch style past,


three weeks ago,

I was shopping with my girl,

at Costco,


they had Levis 514′s,

in my size on sale for $30,


You can’t try things on at Costco,

you have to know your size,


go on faith,

they fit perfectly


A slim not skinny fit,


For years,

I wore boot cut,

wide jeans,

cheaper fat chick brands,

a combination of bad body image,


small budget.

I’m so glad to wear my Levis,


they aren’t 501′s,

I’m not twenty


they make me feel good,




like I have rejoined the land of the slimmer.

I don’t aspire to a twinkie size,

I just like,

feeling better,

in my body,

when looking in the mirror,


having more shopping options.

It’s mostly about loving myself,


feeling swaggeringly,


Call me shallow,

if you must,


it’s my life,

and I think,

feeling better and looking better,

in my eyes,

is important.

Later girls,













Posted in Elements of Butch Style | Tagged | 2 Comments

Impostor syndrome and listening to the voice

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category


In life,

we do stupid things,



we perpetuate,

stupid things.

We don’t listen to the little voice.

You know the one I mean,


the one that tells you,

don’t do that,

don’t go there,

let it go.

We argue,

with the little voice,

‘don’t tell me what to do!!”

“don’t be shallow, there is more than meets the eye”

I have won arguments,

with my little voice,


more times,

than I wish,

to acknowledge,

I have been wrong.

The thing is,

the little voice,

has got that,

blink thing,

going for it,

it ‘sees’ in the blink of an eye,


uses all your knowledge, baggage, instinct,

to come to,

what can sometimes seem,

a rash judgement,


I don’t think it is.

Something very unpleasant,

happened this week,

what it is,


who was ‘right’,

doesn’t really matter,


it was once again,

an example,

to me,

of not listening to,

my little voice.

I like to think of myself,

as fair minded,

a good person,

far from perfect,

a work in progress,

trying not to make the same mistakes twice.

Like most people,

I have boundaries,

they aren’t barbed wire or concrete,

I can be made to change my mind,


I often do,

I think a person must,

or else you stay in your stagnant pool of complacency.

Some things,

I cannot abide,

being talked down to,

being patronized,

being made to feel guilty.



my integrity and honour,

being questioned,



as the saying goes,

is a deal breaker.

I know that many of us,

are the walking wounded,

people have lived through their own,

private hells,


come out on the other side.

I cut slack,

especially for the abused, wounded, confused and brutalized


I make allowances for different world views,

the thing is,

I expect the same in return.

A while ago,

someone who was relatively new in my life,


who had been very sweet and generous,

questioned my integrity,

it shook me,

they couldn’t have been further from the truth.

I rose above it,

my hurt and anger,

in spite of what the little voice was screaming,

‘walk away” she said,

“no good can come of this”



dummy that I am,

I ignored it,



“ah come on, it was just a misunderstanding, insecurity rearing it’s head”


the voice was right,

nothing good could come after that barrier,

had been violated,

for either party,

this person,

hurt me with their doubt,


I had obviously hurt them,

to bring up,

the doubt.

Things could never be the same again.

So, the events of this week,

were the inevitable,


The thing is even when,

you don’t listen to your,

little voice,

it does seem to play out,

that ‘she’ was right!!

Dang, I hate that:-)

To add to the confusion,


the noise,

going on,

in your head,

there is another little voice,

this one,

is negative,

doesn’t try to protect you from hurt,

like the other one,

this is the one that tells,


you are an impostor,

not really that smart or talented,

that is the impostor syndrome one,


this one,

you should never listen to.

This is the one that tells,

you in your head,


sometimes out loud,

in the voice of others,

‘you aren’t a real writer, you are just a blogger, a neophyte, an impostor”

“everyone takes photos, why would you think yours are any better?”

I don’t think they are better,

I think they are mine,


that is all they can be.

I have been reading a wonderful,

short little book,

Steal Like An Artist,

by Austin Kleon,

I read about it in a photography article.

Two big things,

it has taught me.

Use your digits(fingers and hands)

not just the digital,


I am not an impostor,

I am working on being,

the woman,

the butch,

the friend,



I wish to be,


that is wonderful,




I stopped at the art supply store,

got a cheap sketch pad,

some pencils and felt markers,


I wanted a red pencil,

I told the man behind the counter,

it was for corrections,

instead of saying editing,

he asked me if I was a teacher,

I said,

“no I’m a writer”

it was the first time ever,

that I did not qualify it,

or hem and haw,

that felt,


than I can,


A week of voices.

Later girls,


Posted in My Ramblings | 2 Comments