Sexual predation, Weinstein, and supporting the Me Too wave

I seem to have stepped in it again.  Not with Dana this time, at least.

With the outing of Harvey Weinstein as a monster, women everywhere are speaking up in solidarity. It's the Me Too movement, growing like a tsunami.  I hope it sweeps the world.

This is not a time for men to be speaking.  This is a time for men to be listening.  That said, men need to be openly supportive of this tidal wave.  Stand up.

I've known three women in my life who were sexually molested, two more who probably were but haven't told me so, and the odds  are I've known even more without being aware of it.  Two of my nieces were stalked by a known rapist as they traveled to and from grade school.  Fortunately, they were never touched as the family grew vigilant.

One of these women posted a "Me Too" to Facebook.  I didn't feel right about commenting (besides which, what would I say?)  but also felt it wrong to do what so many do - ignore it.  Ignoring it is part of the problem, part of the culture that allows predation to continue.  So I joined the dozens who gave a 'thumbs-up' like in support.

This morning the post was invisible, and I had a message from Facebook advising me on privacy issues.  So, I'm a bit confused and not sure why I was wrong, only that I apparently was.  Not complaining, I want to do  right by my friend.  The lecture didn't illuminate the situation, advising that should the author of the comment choose to make it public then my support would be public as well - and, gosh,  wouldn't I find that embarrassing?

Ummm...no.  FUCK no!  Goddammit, fuck no!!  No I am not embarrassed to stand against sexual predators and the conspiracy of silence that abets them.  What I'm embarrassed by and ashamed of is having possibly hurt someone I care about by being clumsily intrusive on a matter that is deeply  personal and painful.  I'm proud of her for standing up and speaking out.

(edit) Here's something worth reading, an article by Wagatwe Sara Wanjuki on why she made the personal choice not to join the Me Too movement.  She supports it, but feels the focus is mistaken.  The basis for her choice is a belief that men already know how widespread the problem is and do nothing about it.  I disagree with her belief, I think most men are truly blind to it.  Still, her piece speaks to a concern of mine, which is getting men into the discussion of how to address it.  The commentary section is very much worth consideration.  See, I'm hoping the Me Too wave keeps building until it can no longer be denied.

Mom has gone.

Tuesday.  Was going to post about it but I don't have the heart.  I spent it on Facebook, and what I didn't say there I told Jesseca.  I would share it with Dana if she asked. 

I still don't have the sense Dana has any plan to continue talking with me.  Okay.  Well, no, not okay, but nothing I can do about it. I'm determined not to ask or comment to her again, since that's the space she needs.  I didn't say all that I wanted to, but for a moment we were speaking to each other.  It's still surreal.  And cherished.  I said what was important maybe, which is simply that she means everything to me and I care about her, and she can talk with me if she decides to.  I've been saying that for thirty years, but this time she heard it.  That's...that's a lot.  For her to have spoken to me at all is tremendous.

Dana still has the drawing I did of her.  I thought she'd have thrown that away long ago.  I don't know what to think.  I must still have some meaning for her?

Anyway, she's proven to herself that she can talk to me.  She doesn't have to talk about anything she doesn't want to touch on.  I am absolutely here for her.  She just has to reach out.  She did it once, she can do it again.  I'm here.  I'm proud of her, I'm her friend, and I love her.

Oh, Dana, please don't pull away again now.  Not now.  We're so close.  At least, finally explain to me why you won't talk to me.


Hoping Dana will extend an invitation/friend request.


Still watching the fires.  None near San Mateo but the air has to be unbreathable.  She must have people she cares about in danger spots, hope they made it out.  I wish someone would tell me if she's okay.  I won't ask mutual contact  Tammy, I fear she's already feeling caught in an awkward position.  I'm deeply grateful she tagged Dana to see my post though.  I've been so overwhelmed by hearing  from Dana that I was able to deal with...yeah.

The family bullshit already started, not even a day later.  One of my brothers tried to raid the house and garage of belongings.  I don't know what some people are made of.

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I've now faced, met, and made it through the worst grief I may ever know.  The question I'm dealing with now is: why bother?  Things are still bad and getting worse.  Moving to New Your fell through, moving in with Lore is falling through.  I can still stay here for a little while but not long enough.

Took one day, I fucked up already.

I can't deal with talking about mom right now.  Things keep developing, and the last I was sure of was...it's...everyone has gathered.  I reached out to FB.

Dana replied.  I didn't think she would.  Moony called and told me, and I was terrified of looking in in.  Had to find the courage to do so.

I replied.  And I'm scared of saying the wrong thing, and stumbling.  My aim was not to push her or come on too strong, and I think I went too far the other way and came off cold.  Fuck.  She and I did that once before, miscommunicated from fear.

I just hope I haven't already blown it.

I haven't looked at her FB page, not wanting to until I'm invited to.  I don't want to intrude.  Jesseca checked it out, and tells me that Dana is now an artist!  I hope I get to see it soon!  Jesseca sent her a friend request.  I hope she accepts.  I am so unsure of myself, it would help if they were talking to each other for awhile.

Meanwhile...yeah.  At this point I'm dreading the ring of the phone.  I could almost convince myself that no news is good news.


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Sunday morning.  Mom is still fighting.  Went into the hospital a week ago now.  God my body won't stop shivering.

I caved to temptation and glimpsed at Dana's FB page.  I was right, one of her avs is the rainbow one. I'm proud of  her!  She had up a vid of Lady Gaga talking about hate.   And...she has a picture of a tattoo - is that hers??  It says "ENOUGH" and is of a bird escaping a cage.  For so, so many years I was having dreams of her as a bird not only trapped in a cage but afraid of leaving it.

And I take back everything I said about her being a coward.  I hope she will tell me her story.  I've always known Dana's a strong fighter and a survivor.  I want to know what she was up against.  It's still hard to take in that she has at least for a moment torn down the wall between us and reached out to me.  I wonder what it must feel like for her to have done that.  Will it make it easier to do it again?

God she's beautiful.

I want to tell her how much she means to me, and I have to hold back lest she turn away.

I think she has a new fan in Jesseca!

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Had a dream of a hummingbird about a week ago.  Must have been Friday night.  The dream was that a bright red hummingbird was hovering stationary at just under eye level.  I approached, which it didn't mind at all...petted it, cautiously, which it seemed to enjoy.  Told her she was beautiful.  Her wings spread, she had white and black lines in an abstract pattern over an all-red body and wings.  She seemed injured, so I took her indoors to see if there was anything I could do to help.  She immediately got angry with me, bit me hard, dug her talons in until I took her back outside where she could fly away.  She thought I was trying to trap her for keeping.

That next day, Karla bought a meal at Burger King and got one of their kids' toys, which she brought home and put on the kitchen window sill.  It was the red bird from Angry Birds.

That took a little of the sting out, but might have been meant to punctuate it as important.  It seemed pointedly cautionary.  I have been afraid to interpret it, because the obvious first message is to let mom go.  Maybe that's not it, as mom is holding on her own, as is her nature.

So the next interpretation that comes to mind regards Dana, though it was  a week prior to her reappearance.  I have to not hold on to her either.  She will not be robbed of the freedom she has won for herself, that she should be proud of, that the tattoo represents.  And I will never try to take that from her.  But, god, I hope for another gesture from her soon.  Her note to me has meant so much more to me than she can guess, it's been helping me try to make it through this.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Monday.  Jesseca has advised me a few times to let go of any preconceived notions - be prepared for Dana to be revealed as never having had anything to do with the narrative I've been living with for years.  No need, I'm already there!  I don't know a damn thing.   Honestly, I'm ready to delete this entire blog out of self-conscious fear.

My biggest dilemma with Dana right now is this:  If this one message she sent me is the only time I ever hear from her again?  I want to fully express to her how grateful I am, what it has meant to be.  Instinctively, I want to be open, authentic, and unhidden with her. Yet if I do that, will it be too much?  How cautious is too cautious?  And...if I miss the moment to vindicate her gesture with my honest gratitude?

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Watching the California fires.  One near Vallejo where I grew up, none close to San Mateo.

Sepsis. Bad.

See last post.  Trying to get a ride to the hospital.  Will try to have Scott post to his FB later and tell people.  I want to ask if someone will inform Dana.

I hope Lore comes through on the room she said she'd have for me.  Will have to abandon everything I own.  Not even time to sort or  donate it?

The only person I even want to survive for is on the other side of the country in New York, and she just got married.  She had said she'd take me, nd I know she wants to, but she's also said it can't happen soon enough (if at all, I'd add).

Every time I think I have a shot at moving forward, sorting things out, making an escape, things suddenly get even worse.  If there is a god he's fucking evil.

Angel Kelly

At least, it's meant to be Angel Kelly.  I'm not happy that I couldn't do a smoother job with her face.  She really is a beautiful woman.  I like the composition, though.

8"x6" (will trim it a touch), two ballpoint pens, took three hours.  The pens are not fresh so they didn't give me even control or smooth shading...I had to keep switching them out.  Because the pens would spit out blotches of ink when I was trying to build the shading, I ended up having to go darker to compensate.  That's why her face doesn't look quite right. 

Trying out a new signature.  I like the look of it, but I don't want to hide my real name.  A 'J'. two dots for an 'E', an 'L'.  The two dots alone didn't quite carry it so I added the bisecting horizontal line. Nod to Amsel.

Damn.   No, it needs work still.  I've made her look like she's been crying.  Also, I'm wondering why I can't find her eyebrow...should find another photo to go by.  If I do this again in pencil, it will turn out right.

(had to edit:  I had said Jill Kelly.  Bad mental state tonight, can't think.)


I was wondering if I might try Inktober this year.  Do 31 ink drawings or sketches, one for each day of the month, on that day (be done by midnight.  The idea is to work on your skills.  While ink isn't my main , it still teaches me plenty.  But I think my time is up.  I have weeks at best, not months.  I don't know what happens after that or if there will be an after.  Mom is taking a nap this evening.  She never goes to bed by 7,  usually 10:30.  I don't know if it's because Karla has made her sit in a hair all day doing nothing or if she's worse tonight.  Has been looking paler.  I am frightened and have been getting little sleep...Probably won't tonight, I'm freshly terrified and already filled with grief.  I don't think I will have time for Inktober either way.

I really need the help of Dana's Vodoun heritage right now to save mom and to save me.  Okay, so I don't know that she actually has that in her family or not, but since I'll never hear from her again I choose to believe it's so.  Why not?

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(edit) Reworked the drawing slightly last night.  Didn't sleep last night, got a rough hour or so today.  Woke to a note on my door, mom is at the ER.  Waiting to hear.  Still waiting.
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Hmm, I was always taken with  guitarist Wendy Coleman in the video for Raspberry Beret.  She and Dana looked just a little similar when they both had short hair.  I love Dana's hair, long or short.

Dana, This is my last shot.  Please talk to me.  My time is up.

I should have had Moony or someone reach out to her for me, but I hadn't wanted to explain to them or put anyone in the middle.

*********
Y'know, this needs to be done properly.  Angel Kelly deserves a better picture than this.  I need to do her in pencil, then you'll see what I'm talking about.

It's not just her looks.  I've seen her in a  few interviews, has always struck me as a warm, thoughtful, intelligent person of empathy and conscience, strong in a softspoken way.  She's just all-around beautiful.

Mom

Mom just went to the hospital.  Her knee has needed replacing for some years now but the doctors decided she couldn't survive the surgery.  She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and her last appointment they said stage 4.  That's maybe 6 months...and that was two months ago.  Could be longer or could be a lot less.  Everyone is telling me she looks a lot paler lately.  I've noticed she eats even less.

I have no survival plan.  No money and will have no home.  No intention of living like that.  My countdown clock is on.

If I'm awake

Being involved in a play at Franklin felt more like home to me - more like belonging - than I've ever felt anywhere else (the week I spent with Jesseca in upstate New York was a different kind of heaven). 

I attended the grand reopening of the remodeled Franklin.  Had hoped I'd meet anyone I knew but no luck.  Saw a woman who might have been Kristina Burley, or not.  At any rate, she had Kris' eyes and smile.  Shape of her face was right.  Kris always had angelic eyes.  Also saw someone who could have been Jacquie Williams.  I guess I'm glad I went, I enjoyed seeing the school...but it was also a lonely experience wandering through, alone and no one to speak with.  The locations of both my past and my dreams have been wiped away.  I walked down the stairs to the cafeteria recalling the dream in which I reunited with her there...and it only led to an empty hall of classroom doors.  The student commons is now where the parking lot was where I first saw her smoking a cigarette.

 I think Dana was subscribed to the FB page for Franklin alumni but I don't want to look.
 
Didn't get to see the Green Room.  Nice new stage though.  It is now at the opposite end of the building.  Comfortable auditorium seats, very nice...which means I'd no longer be able to conquer them as I used to, draping myself over them in ease.  I might be the only student Franklin ever had who actually enjoyed auditions.  BTW, casting call was posted in the hallway for Hamlet.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Trying to draw, or paint.  That helps keep depression at bay during the task, but depression robs one of the energy and drive to actually do it.  I feel overwhelmed by just getting by, hard to get my head above water.  Jesseca's birthday is imminent.

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9/10/17  5 in the morning, can't fall back asleep.  Went to bed at 1:30.  Dana finally appeared in a dream.

We're at Franklin - the dream posits us as somewhere inbetween both the adults we are now and still students, apparently, still attending.  The school day has ended, a schoolful of us are leaving, many are staying.  It's more like a college that will remain open and active well into the night.  Dana walks ahead of me - I never see her face.  We head to an exit in the drama wing, someone is singing, rehearsing.  It's not an especially pleasant sound, but I don't care much for the song itself, the music.  The sound is muffled as we step out into the dark of evening and the door closes behind us.  It's been raining.  "Oh, that's better." I joke, referring to the silencing of the music.  "Is it?", she replies coolly, apparently thinking it was an asshole thing for me to say.  She's not impressed.  I've just made a snide, superior diss of someone with talent, trying their best*  We're in the parking lot.  I'll be walking, she heads for her car.  As I still need something in the building, I walk the length of the lot...thinking that I should have looked to see what kind of car she owns so I could watch for it.  One drives past in the dark, exiting the school grounds, but it can't be here as she hasn't had time to get in and start the motor.  My heart is aching - why can I not turn and tell her I love her?  She's right here and I'm letting her slip through my fingers!  I cannot break out of the script.  She's in a play downtown, I'll go see here there (Dammit, why can't I turn and ask her what the name of the thing is - or where??)  As I move, I wonder at the cigarette in my mouth.  Why is it in my mouth?  I don't smoke.  Oh...I guess I chew them as a habit grown out of using them as a pose.  I keep them in my mouth because she smokes.  I  dunno, do I want her to see me like that or not?  I take it out of my mouth but can't seem to flick it away.  I reach the sidewalk and turn to merge with the crowd that is entering one of the front doors.  In my peripheral vision I see the headlights of her car move across the lot as she backs out of a space.  Then the building cuts off the view.  There may have been more as I walked inside, possibly some interaction with or an overheard remark by a younger student...I want something at the office, but the school has been remodeled and I no longer know where the office is.  There also may have been something forgotten at the dream's intro as well, I can only recall the coldness and crushing loneliness of Dana's presence.

Then I woke up and remembered.  There won't be any seeing her at her work or in any play.  Haven't been able to go back to sleep.

*Now that I type it up, I remember someone from school who had exactly that attitude.  Smug, superior, better than everyone else, contemptuous of  others.  Wasn't me, but  someone we both knew.  I'm acting like him in the dream.

Is this what my dreams with Dana will be like now?  Dreams of bitterness and regret.  She  wasn't my friend in the dream, she didn't even like me much.  Her picture here, I still ask her to marry me as if ESP  worked that way.  The words ring hollow, there's no hope in them anymore.  If she asked me to forgive her, I would.  I never will without her asking.

The smoke of the forest fires has lessened but still makes my eyes dry and itchy.  Portland has never had them so close before in my memory, within the city boundaries.  Some six or seven years ago the fires in the hills of L.A. had me worried for Dana's property though I'd no idea whether she actually still lived there.  Jesseca cast a spell of protection for Dana's house just in case.

I love you, Dana.  You're a coward and you broke my heart the way no one else ever could.  But I'll always be in  love with you.



Current song: "Am I Awake", They Might Be Giants