On the marquee, in lights…US
For some reason, I have always felt that the observable trials and tribulations of the homosexual male relationship convey the core of human interaction. I have considered that maybe this is due to the fact that the complexity and publicity of emotional process is very much tied to our concepts of gender, all of which is disrupted, and in many ways, turned inside out by our integration of our sexual orientation. The guts are exposed. In observation, heterosexual interaction is so culturally normalized, that is doesn’t usually jar me, doesn’t usually bring me to the same analysis or reflection. The “Other” is inherently the assumed subject of study.
In my experience, gay lady relationships just don’t materialize in the same way. I think that [again, in my own expereince] there is a lot more which goes unsaid between women, and is therefore difficult to notice, let alone interpret by an outside party. Sorry if I am being offensive. I really have given this a lot of thought.
Many of you, if not all of you probably know how much I adore the gay male couple in the film, Best in Show. The tenderness of the relationship, coupled with something that I can only clumsily express as some sort of discomfort with physicality, something that is understandable for those of us who have kissed someone of the same sex in public, a passionate kiss that spilled our sexuality all over the sidewalk, complete exposure. It is a sensation that, as much as one fights it, mutates into a personal questioning. Such feelings have been so formative to my sexual persona, that I feel my entrails are on display no matter which gender is on the other end of my lips.
Now, I know that there are countless dramas in which gay male relationships are artfully and brilliantly depicted. And yes, I realize that Best in Show is a comedy [one of the best ever created]. But for me, that only accentuates its credibility as an excellent artifact.
I stopped for espresso today and walked into a huge fight between the very handsome, gay coffee-shop owners. I felt like I’d just pressed an IV needle into the heart of humanity.
In my experience, gay lady relationships just don’t materialize in the same way. I think that [again, in my own expereince] there is a lot more which goes unsaid between women, and is therefore difficult to notice, let alone interpret by an outside party. Sorry if I am being offensive. I really have given this a lot of thought.
Many of you, if not all of you probably know how much I adore the gay male couple in the film, Best in Show. The tenderness of the relationship, coupled with something that I can only clumsily express as some sort of discomfort with physicality, something that is understandable for those of us who have kissed someone of the same sex in public, a passionate kiss that spilled our sexuality all over the sidewalk, complete exposure. It is a sensation that, as much as one fights it, mutates into a personal questioning. Such feelings have been so formative to my sexual persona, that I feel my entrails are on display no matter which gender is on the other end of my lips.
Now, I know that there are countless dramas in which gay male relationships are artfully and brilliantly depicted. And yes, I realize that Best in Show is a comedy [one of the best ever created]. But for me, that only accentuates its credibility as an excellent artifact.
I stopped for espresso today and walked into a huge fight between the very handsome, gay coffee-shop owners. I felt like I’d just pressed an IV needle into the heart of humanity.