School started. I went to class. Life goes on. The beginning of a new semester, new classes, new instructors bring new perspective. To wit, I have a physical education lecture course, required for graduation, called Fitness and Wellness. This class will force me to face some facts about myself and my life that I do not want to admit. I'm squirming, feeling panicked. Reactions of this nature seem to indicate deep-seated emotional disturbances. So far I have been challenged to live "a special lifestyle that promotes a full, productive, and enjoyable life." I am not on board with that statement of purpose. The problems begin with the idea of living.
For balance, I have a course in Death and Dying. I'm quite excited about this one. It's a topic that has interested me for a very long time. In my first college experience a hundred years ago this course was offered, but I never had the opportunity to enroll. I'm glad to be in this class now. I am the oldest person in the class, including the professor. He's 35 or 36. He's the fellow who taught my Research Methods class last semester. Most of the rest of the students are 20 years old, give or take a year. There may be a few who are in their late twenties or thirties, I'm not sure. But I am definitely the oldest. I'll hazard a guess that I have contemplated the subject of death more than most anyone else in the class with the exception of the prof. I think (I mean to ask him) he's done some research on the topic.
I'm taking The Really Hard Research Course, Part II. It's being taught by a different professor, not the fella' we all got used to last semester. This prof is a woman, but I'll try not to hold that against her. She allegedly knows her stuff. I also have her for another class this semester, a general Social Psychology course. So far it's not very inspiring. Updates as warranted. (I love that phrase.)
But the really BIG school-related news: I'm taking an art class! I know! It's an advanced sculpture class, and our first assignment is to make a display box with legs. It is much more complicated, but that's the gist of it. This is going to be so cathartic for me. My box base is a wall mounted medicine cabinet with a mirrored door. The theme explores aging, body image, cultural standards of beauty, and not wanting to look at myself too closely.
The art class is my motivation. It is my love. I wonder why in the hell I'm majoring in psychology when there's ART!! OK, money might have something to do with it. Also, I seem to have a gift for relating to people, particularly people who are hurting. Thistle says I am good at loving broken people. Perhaps through psychology I can refine that gift and make a living using it. Oh, but ART!! Art feeds my soul. I don't feed my own soul very often.
I've been putting some brain energy into the gender identity question. I remembered today that when I was a yout' my mother allowed me to pick out a new bed for myself. I chose the bed designed for boys (wood that looked like wood) over the girls bed (painted white with "gold" accents). When the truck came to deliver my bed, they had the wrong one. They brought the girls bed. I told Mama to just leave it. It didn't matter. So I had that white bed frame, but I felt like an impostor using it. Well, when I bothered to think about it, which wasn't often. I chose a gender-neutral bedspread for it. That helped.
I like wearing skirts or dresses. They are more comfortable to me than pants. I'm glad I'm a woman so that I can wear skirts without causing a social ruckus. I'm glad I'm a woman because I really like guys. It's easier for me to be het. On the down side, I don't trust women. It's hard being friends with straight guys because of the sexual tension. Watch When Harry Met Sally. Harry is right. It's hard for me to form friendships with women because they are women. There are exceptions. I like some people who happen to be women. Generally, though, women drive me crazy. I'm sort of embarrassed to be a woman.
Enough for tonight. It's very late. Again. I miss you when I don't post, and it's been nearly a week since my last post. Hopefully I'll use my time wisely this week and be able to post more frequently. It's all about using my time wisely. I flunked "uses time wisely" in elementary school. I did pass penmanship, just barely.
13 comments:
The gender identity and body image issues are all wrapped up together. I guess it's been that way ever since little kids first said "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
I am so envious of you! I would love to go back to school.
And art and psychology just go together. Your class sounds like fun. I just hope to find some time to do some glass in the upcoming weeks.
We expect to see pictures!
It's always good to hear from you! Art is good for the soul!
I’ve had body image issues my whole life. It’s probably one of the main reasons I spend so much time at the gym.
I don’t think life would as pleasing to me without art. I live in a house filled with art. I love going to art museums and visiting art gallery openings. I’ve always been a fan of abstract expressionism. I applaud you for exploring your artistic abilities.
I can't remember the source, but someone famous said that men and women both prefer the company of men. That's generally true of me too, because I tend to think more like a man. Most women mystify me with their thinking and emotions. I just can't identify. I think maybe that's why you and I hit it off so easily; we think alike.
Somehow I've managed to have never seen When Harry Met Sally, so I just added it to my NetFlix queue.
I've always heard that women cannot be friends with other women, and it's been my experience in the workplace that it is entirely without a doubt true. I'm thankful I'm a man because I can be friends with other men, and I'm thankful I'm a gay man because I like the sexual tension!
Have fun in your sculpture class. Be sure to show us your creations.
Funnily enough, as a kid I always found girls easier to relate to, more emotionally open. Guys only seemed able to connect through ridicule. Had I been straight, or maybe just better at the things guys were supposed to do well (that is sports, sports and sports) I might have been able to connect more easily. It wasn't until high school, but really college, that I began having what I considered true friendships with men. Now I'd say my friendships are fairly evenly divided.
On a different topic, have you given any thought to arts therapy? It might be a crossroads for two of your many gifts.
i get a sense that you are like a marathon runner. you seem to have so much distance to cover, but somehow pace yourself beautifully and gracefully- most of the time.
hell- that's more than most people accomplish in a lifetime...
I'm embarrassed to be a women sometimes, too. Women are petty and moody. And they change their minds too much.
Embarrassing.
I miss you too, Java. But I'm glad for the classes and your continuing introspection. I hope to hear from you again soon!
When I was in college back in the 1830s, I took a class called "Adulthood, Aging and Dying." We took a field trip to a local funeral home and our assignment was to choose a casket for ourselves. Included in our choices were a cardboard box and the plain pine coffin that the nearby prison used for its potter's field. We would have had a tour of the "basement," but there was a "client" down there getting a makeover.
You know the old Billy Joel song "She's Always A Woman to Me?" Well, I always think of that song as my song.
My god, Java, I think we need to do that thing I asked you about...I'm so curious to the inner workings of your mind on this!
Happy Birthday, Chickie! I hope it's a great day for you!
The art class sounds like the carrot. Good for you! I'm always looking for the carrots in life. For example, the carrot of seeing Diva develop into a mature respectable woman. Wouldn't that be awesome?
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