More updates, per request

After reading my last post, the update on my four children, Mark asked about C, the young gay man who lived with us for a while. "A while" turned out to be 12 years, off and on.

Here's some background, for those who may be new or have forgotten the story. I'll try to be brief. In the spring of 2005 C told his mom he was gay. He had previously come out to my daughter Light. They were good friends in high school. C told his mom not to mention it to the stepdad, who's a douche canoe, but she did and stepdad said "not in my house!" So things prevailed and he ended up here.

Up until then Superman and I had been active members of the PCA, a conservative Presbyterian denomination. You know, conservative Christian: anti-gay, anti-abortion, etc. I hadn't personally considered my thoughts on homosexuality in a long time, just went with the flow of what the church taught. But then I met C, and quickly began to question that ideology. I pretty much immediately fell in love with C as a human being. (Not romantic love, none of that foolishness. Good grief, he was 17 years old! And gay!) No, my Mama Bear instincts kicked in. In short, he moved in with us. It was spring of his senior year in high school, he was a few months away from graduating and turning 18 when he was kicked out of his home. What kind of hateful crazy is that?

He had begun a relationship, his first gay love, about that time. So then his boyfriend moved in too. All four of our kids were still here. Light is a year younger than C. It was kinda crazy, especially with Sproing and Diva being batshit emotionally disturbed. I was heavily medicated.

After a couple of years maybe (I didn't keep close track of the timing of these things) C and his boyfriend moved to their own place. Shortly thereafter they broke up. C lived in a couple of other places for another few months, but was not doing well. He was being evicted from an apartment and was hungry. He finally, the prideful fool, called me. Good grief. And I told him to stay in contact, but ... I dunno. He was young and proud and foolish. So yeah, he moved back in.

Moved back in, started another relationship, long distance, with a minor (17 yr old) in North Carolina. Can't remember what nickname I called him. C and I drove my truck up to his home near Charlotte, NC and moved him out of his mom's house on his 18th birthday. Mom was upset, called the cops, but there wasn't anything they could do because he was an adult, legally.

I consulted with one of my blogger buddies with a law background about all of this. He cautioned me to NOT bring the boy home until after he was an adult. Especially crossing state lines, man, I could have gotten in a heap o' trouble.

That relationship was doomed from the start, really. The education/intelligence/maturity difference between the two boys was insurmountable. But C was 18, maybe 19 by then, and knew everything so I let him learn on his own. The two of them lived here for a little while, then moved into another apartment as roommates with another gay couple their age. In true daytime drama fashion, that exploded. C developed a loathing for the NC boyfriend and a huge crush on the younger man of the other couple. By "younger man" I mean he wasn't even 18 yet. And it was an unrequited crush.

C broke up with the NC boyfriend a few days before NC's birthday in October. The kid was crushed. As contentious as the relationship had become I don't understand why he was so surprised. So C moved back here and so did the other young fellow. They were "just friends" according to Young Guy, but C carried a torch, you know? They were here for a lot of months, maybe as long as a year, when Young Guy moved out. I can't remember how things situated with C at that point, but I know he moved out a little while later. Each time he moved out he'd not stay in contact. Pissed me off. And he didn't keep a consistent phone number, not being able to afford to keep the phone on. Typical of independent young people in my experience.

He showed back up on our doorstep, hungry and homeless once again. This was right after Diva moved out for good. I had C physically clean and spiritually cleanse her room. We repainted it for him to move into that room. Such better energy with him there than when she was living in it, OMG! Diva moved out toward the end of the year in 2015, about a month before her 18th birthday. He moved in before Christmas, if I recall. He was here until last spring, I think, so about a year and a half.

Then his mother called. Remember his mom? The one who together with her husband the douche canoe kicked C out a decade ago? Well, her husband decided to divorce her. Why she ever married the fool in the first place I will never know, nor why she stayed with him for so long. OK, I know why she stayed. Because Jesus said so. Which is of course why she kicked C out of the house, too. So now she's getting divorced and moving into her own apartment. She's a registered nurse working in one of the hospitals in the Charleston, SC area. She has never lived alone. She lived with her mom until she married C's dad. They divorced when C was 5 or 6? Maybe 7, I dunno. She then married Douche Canoe almost immediately (that's how the young C remembers it). Now she's middle aged and alone, so she decides that C should come "home" to live with her in Charleston.

He has been working at Captain D's seafood establishment (I hesitate to call it a restaurant, though technically it is, I suppose) since he was in high school, again, off and on. By now of course he's an assistant manager. Or a manager but not the big boss manager. I don't know how these things work. Anyway, he was able to transfer to a store in the Charleston area. He's been living with his mother (OMG how did that happen? What were you thinking?) for going on a year here in the spring. I talk to him occasionally, once every couple of months. He says he and mom are getting along well. They disagree about many things, but respect each other's differences.

They always had a good relationship as C was growing up, right there until the end. They're mother and son, but also good friends. I'm happy for him, He seems to be doing well. He concentrates all his energy on work, hasn't made any friends of his own as far as I can tell. Last time we talked I encouraged him to get out and meet people. Now that he lives in the greater Charleston area there's a better chance of meeting like-minded (gay) people. He'll be 30 years old this June. IMHO he needs to get a life.

I love him dearly, like a son even. I miss him. I'm glad he has a good relationship with his mother and I wish he'd spend more effort maintaining the relationship we have. I should call or text him more often, myself.

And that's the story of C up to this point.

Funny, or in poor taste?

We need advice

As you know if you've been following along, Light and I are apartment hunting here in Indiana PA (Indianapa) for a home for her while she's in grad school. We saw one this morning that she really likes and has tentatively chosen. It's the second floor of an older house close to the center of town. The landlord lives within a couple of blocks in what I guess is a much nicer place. This place isn't bad at all, but it's an old house with lots of character. A few tens of thousands of dollars could make it nice. Quite a few of those ten thousands, I suspect. But it's relatively clean, seems pretty safe, and has amenities she likes. And did I mention it has character? We both like that about the place.

Here's the thing. She asked me if she should tell the landlord that she's gay. The point of this question concerns her minivan and its messages. This is the front bumper, nothing too controversial here:

The back of the car, however, is more opinionated. The apartment comes with off-street parking in the driveway beside the house. It's just a short driveway and the end of the car would line up adjacent to the front of the house. The front of the house is used for business purposes by the landlord. So clients/customers would possibly see this
and this
as they came into the office. Or she could back into the driveway, I suppose.

I told her she probably should not tell the landlord she's gay, but that's my opinion based on gut feelings and ideas I can't articulate clearly today. But I thought you, my readers, may have a better perspective on this issue. I told her I'd ask you.

If you have any other questions, anything I should clarify, put them in the comments. I'll answer via updates here. And I'll let you know what she decides.

Update

Light just talked to her future landlord to express her intent to rent the apartment. She told him that she's gay and asked if that would be a problem. He said no, as long as she's the only one living in the apartment. Since her girlfriend lives in South Carolina, I doubt that will be an issue. At least not anytime soon.

She didn't tell him what her bumper stickers say, but he is aware of her sexual orientation anyway.

In the comments Tobey asked about the safety of an apartment above a business. This business is not one that sees a large volume of people on a regular basis. The nature of the business excludes the lower end of society's riff-raff, not that that's a guarantee of anything. But it makes me feel a little bit better for what that's worth. And there's a deadbolt on the door (separate entrance) leading up to the apartment.

Pictures of my ceramic art

Good evening. I am ready to show you some of my ceramic art from this semester. First I present my raku glazed vessel. It's approximately 12 inches in diameter and 11 inches high. It was glazed and fired with the raku method. It looks shiny. And a bit ugly, but in a pretty way

It looks better in person. And the time stamp on these two pictures is correct. The following pictures were taken a week after these, but the time stamp says New Years Day 1007.
Yeah, so ignore the time stamp. This is 3/4th of a set of tableware. The assignment was to make a large plate, a small plate, a tumbler, and a small cup of some kind. I made the 4th piece, but I didn't get it finished in time to get it into the kiln for the bisque fire. The 4th piece is a goblet that I'm particularly pleased with. It won't get cooked until January. Until then, enjoy the other pieces.
I've been meaning to try out that tumbler to see how well it works as a drinking vessel. The thing is sitting on my desk now, stacked up with all the other ceramic work I brought home.

Next is the narrative piece that goes with the personal story I posted a month ago. I worked on this sucker for a good three weeks, maybe more.

top view

"The Church" on the left, my house on the right, a gay couple walking together toward my house. A crumbling archway between the church and my house.

church side view

And a bit of the crumbling archway.

detail of my house side view, with me as the crazy lady in the window

angled view with church on the right, archway behind, and "man of the cloth" being all judgmental and shit

That's supposed to be an altar there on the front right corner along the wall of the church. Behind the preacher-guy you can see a wonky pew, and if you look carefully you can see the gay couple heading down the road.

angled view showing gay couple walking toward my house, with mini-me in an apron welcoming them to my home

The bit on the left is supposed to portray a homey scene of the hearth. Maybe you can see it better if you embiggen it.

Detail of the front of my house with me welcoming the gay couple

That shadow in front is the back of the pew. I made the pew with distorted angles and such, symbolizing the distortions of the church and the altered perspective of the scene.

And that's about all I'm going to say now. I should be posting more often for the next three weeks until school starts again. I have some other pictures of artwork to share, too. Stay tuned.

The story of my transformation from homophobe to homophile

I had this assignment for my ceramic sculpture class:

Students will write a 2-4 page (typed, double spaced) true narrative and then design a ceramic environment to illustrate the narrative. The narrative should be about an event or experience you witnessed.

So yeah, I have to depict the story in clay. Artistically. The most significant experience I've had in recent years is learning to embrace The Gay. Here is the story I submitted to my art professor this morning.

Until about five years ago I had my life mostly figured out. I was in my early 40s with four children, the youngest having recently started elementary school. After being a stay-at-home mom most of my adult life, I decided to pursue my dream of driving a truck and became a school bus driver. I finally had a job, was making a little bit of money, and my work schedule coincided with the children’s days off from school.

The other important element of my life aside from my family was the church. We were members of a conservative protestant denomination, and my husband and I were actively involved in various ministries within the church. Our church taught a strong Bible based theology, and there were very few points with which I disagreed. Being curious and intelligent, I had given a lot of thought to many social issues from the perspective of what I learned in church.

In the winter of 2006 I met a young man whose existence challenged my beliefs. C was a 17 year old high school senior who had lived with an inner conflict since early adolescence. He also was a faithful Christian but he was romantically attracted to guys, which the church says is wrong. He kept his same sex attraction a secret until age 17 when he realized that the conflict was not going to solve itself. As he began to accept his homosexuality he slowly shared his secret with close friends. My daughter Light was one of those friends.

Light introduced me to C in December. Although I had strong suspicions, I did not know for sure that he was gay until later in January. By then most everybody at school knew of his homosexuality, and many of those classmates also attended the church where he and his mother worshiped. He had not come out to his mother and was afraid she would find out through the grapevine. The child was full of angst typical of a high-strung teenager under stress. He needed to talk and I was willing to listen. I found him to be a charming, intelligent, sensitive young man who in no way fit the image of a homosexual that I’d learned from the church. I had a conundrum.

Not long after I started talking to C he found an opportunity to tell his mother that he is gay. She did not take it well. She and C’s step-father gave him 30 days to move out of their house. I was livid! I understand her attitude about homosexuality since I held a similar view, but I do not understand how she could banish her son from her home. Because it is in my nature and typical of what I do, I invited him to move in with us. I had grown to love C.

As I got to know and love him, I began to seriously question the church’s teaching about homosexuality. The church taught me that gays were cursed and homosexuality was a lifestyle choice. C’s story didn’t reflect that, and I did not believe that God could curse someone as wonderful as C. I had a lot of questions. It was time to research the issues.

I visited a lot of websites and read some dense books. Initially my curiosity focused on the cause of homosexuality and how and why the church condemned it. What does the Bible really say about homosexuality? Who interpreted it into what my church taught? How has the church’s position changed through history? My attitudes and beliefs changed fast. Within two weeks of beginning my research I realized that homosexuality is a normal, natural variation of sexual orientation, not a choice and not inherently wrong.

My research led to more questions about the nature of gay people. The only gay people I knew were C and his boyfriend, and I was well aware that these two crazy gay boys from Greenwood, South Carolina were not typical of gays everywhere. I went online to meet other gay men who were older and more mature than these two kids. There are a lot of gay men who have their own blogs and that’s where I met some wonderful, interesting people. Many of them have since become my good friends.

This is a good place to end this narrative, but there is more of the story that I want to tell, at least in this essay if not with a clay sculpture.

I questioned the teaching of my church. After careful consideration I determined that the church was wrong. If the church was wrong about that, what else is it wrong about? It’s a domino effect. One of the pillars on the foundation of my belief crumbled, causing the walls to crack. Other clichés happened, which are easy to sculpt but not particularly creative. I radically changed my beliefs over a period of approximately six months. Not only did the walls of my faith crack, but my nerves cracked. I ended up having a nervous breakdown in late April or early May, about two and a half months after Cory moved in with us. The search for meaningful expression of my spirituality continues to this day. I know a lot more than I did five years ago, but I am less sure of where I’m going or what I should do with my life.

So there you have it. And I have no idea how to put any of that into a sculpture.

I would post a new entry but there's a cat on my arms

It's been a while, and I've missed you. I say that often, and I mean it every time.

I'm getting tired of school. It's tedious. Perhaps I'm bored with it. This is probably normal. I'm not going to fret about it just now.

The leaves are finally turning. It's the middle of November, for cryin' out loud! Don't we usually see fall colors earlier than this around here? I don't remember. Sad, I've lived at this latitude for close to two decades and I can't remember what fall looks like. We've had some cool days and a couple of light frosts. Today and yesterday were overcast with some rain, which I enjoy in moderation. Sometimes the clear bright days of fall are too bright for my tired old eyes. The rain is restful.

I'm currently procrastinating. I've got two important assignments that need attention, one that's due tomorrow morning. That's what I've come to tell you about. I'm having a hard time putting this mess into words, much less figuring out what to do with it once it's written. Let me explain.

Art. The assignment is to sculpt a narrative, to tell a story of something from my life. First of all I need to write the story. That's the part that's due tomorrow. I've decided (and the professor strongly encouraged me) to tell the story of my transformation from homophobic right wing religious goody-two-shoes to the more open, affirming GLBT advocate I am today. Those of you who have followed this blog for a while know the story. It's a story of abstract concepts without many concrete nouns that are easy to depict with clay. I've been struggling since last Friday to figure out what parts of the story to tell and how to tell it. Right now I'm rambling here on the blog, tossing around ideas in hopes that things will coalesce.

the church - religion - belief and conviction - cognitive dissonance - evidence to the contrary - change, radical change - reexamination - love - acceptance - curiosity - emotional upheaval - nervous breakdown - [have you identified any concrete nouns yet?] - rejection/acceptance - questioning fundamental assumptions - personal growth -

That's about it, as far as I can think now. I'm now going to take my ramblings to the document and make the mess there, then hopefully sort it into a coherent narrative. If it works I'll post it here later.