Bookish Butch (aka me), Autumn 2021
One of my favourite things,
about older,
furniture,
art,
homes,
cities,
is,
patina.
How the cracks,
the wear,
the unvarnished,
the age,
the loved and cared for,
but not babied,
how the use,
the life,
shows through.
It is closely related to,
my beautiful ugly.
Last Friday evening,
Catherine and I,
attended a cabaret show,
a Dada cabaret show,
it was part of a festival here,
in Montreal.
There were some silly,
thought provoking acts,
some were just,
disturbing,
one of the purposes of art,
is to create discomfort,
make us reevaluate,
our received opinions.
As a woman in my,
almost late fifties,
I am fifty-six,
who in spite of being,
an unconventional type,
who doesn’t agree with,
regular notions,
of what constitutes,
feminine beauty.
I was nonetheless,
challenged by,
a very large female,
performer,
who disrobed.
I was uncomfortable,
and then I looked,
at her and thought,
she is a big beautiful woman,
proud of who she is,
asserting her,
body,
her sensuality.
Why shouldn’t,
bigger women,
feel good about our bodies.
If I can appreciate,
patina on furniture,
why can’t I embrace,
my wrinkles and grey hair,
as witnesses to the life,
I have lived?
Curves are pleasing,
but so are angles,
none are superior,
they are all beautiful.
Be well you all.
Later girls,
BB
***the photo at the top is one of 2 selfies I took today, I asked my Facebook friends to vote for their favourite, they are right it looks better, but this photo I also like because it shows my hands and I have a smirky face***
