Anais Nin, Part 1
This will be longish.
I want to preface and explain why I am driven to do this, which is only strange because as I am writing this I am already deep within this little exercise. Perhaps the need to explain has grown as I have done it. When Daniel suggested that I begin reading Henry & June, it seemed to me that he believed that the reading would inspire me to live my life the way that Anais Nin liver hers. This has both proven to be a valid point and a complete fallacy all at once. I have no desire to be the kind of woman that she was, I wish to be who I am. What I will say is, though I disagree at points with some of her decisions, much of what she says resonates very deeply within me. There is something at my core that insists that I give her words the full weight of my intellect. From the first chapter of Henry & June I found myself caught up in a whirlwind of self-analysis, questioning everything. What is heartbreaking for me about this is that I took the experience too quickly, and most of what I thought and felt proved to be fleeting purely because I did not take the time to truly think about why the words effected me as they did. So now, halfway through Incest, I wish to be sure to not make the same mistake twice. I choose to make these thoughts, some of them as personal as thought can get, open to the public because I want to be sure that I cement these ideas as fully as possible. To that end, I invite all commentary, questions, and debate. I ask you to question me, as human weakness shows that we can not be trusted to question ourselves when it truly matters.
"I always believed it was the artist in me who ensorcelled. I believed it was my esoteric house, the colors, the lights, my costumes, my work. I always stood within the great active-artist shell, timorous and unconscious of my power."
~Anais Nin~
Incest
This is a true feeling for many woman, I believe, though it is not always art that figures in. Sometimes it is a job, or money, talent, ones friends and connections. There is an almost infinite list of possibilities. The point is, however, the women rarely believe that it is us, in essence, who are being coveted. We believe that we make a man want us, or a woman for that matter, by the clothes we wear, our make-up, our poise, and the over-all image that we create. Yes, we create the image, in most cases, because we enjoy the image; but never do we believe that we ARE the image. In this way, we shoot ourselves in the foot. If we are complimented while we are wearing our image, you reinforce that we need the image in order to be complimented. Where as it may seem to be a positive thing to make a woman feel good about herself, in the end it is actually tearing down our self-esteem and self confidence. Makes one feel as if the facade is necessary. No longer our armor, it has become our Achilles heel. What we truly want is to be made to feel beautiful and desirable when we are not trying, To feel wanted when we've been doing spring cleaning or working out or have pulled an all-nighter and we're in grubby sweats without a spot of make-up on our face to be seen. Of course, by now we have ruined our self esteem by wearing our image too much so we can now never believe that it is us that is desirable, not just the carefully designed facade.
I want to preface and explain why I am driven to do this, which is only strange because as I am writing this I am already deep within this little exercise. Perhaps the need to explain has grown as I have done it. When Daniel suggested that I begin reading Henry & June, it seemed to me that he believed that the reading would inspire me to live my life the way that Anais Nin liver hers. This has both proven to be a valid point and a complete fallacy all at once. I have no desire to be the kind of woman that she was, I wish to be who I am. What I will say is, though I disagree at points with some of her decisions, much of what she says resonates very deeply within me. There is something at my core that insists that I give her words the full weight of my intellect. From the first chapter of Henry & June I found myself caught up in a whirlwind of self-analysis, questioning everything. What is heartbreaking for me about this is that I took the experience too quickly, and most of what I thought and felt proved to be fleeting purely because I did not take the time to truly think about why the words effected me as they did. So now, halfway through Incest, I wish to be sure to not make the same mistake twice. I choose to make these thoughts, some of them as personal as thought can get, open to the public because I want to be sure that I cement these ideas as fully as possible. To that end, I invite all commentary, questions, and debate. I ask you to question me, as human weakness shows that we can not be trusted to question ourselves when it truly matters.
"I always believed it was the artist in me who ensorcelled. I believed it was my esoteric house, the colors, the lights, my costumes, my work. I always stood within the great active-artist shell, timorous and unconscious of my power."
~Anais Nin~
Incest
This is a true feeling for many woman, I believe, though it is not always art that figures in. Sometimes it is a job, or money, talent, ones friends and connections. There is an almost infinite list of possibilities. The point is, however, the women rarely believe that it is us, in essence, who are being coveted. We believe that we make a man want us, or a woman for that matter, by the clothes we wear, our make-up, our poise, and the over-all image that we create. Yes, we create the image, in most cases, because we enjoy the image; but never do we believe that we ARE the image. In this way, we shoot ourselves in the foot. If we are complimented while we are wearing our image, you reinforce that we need the image in order to be complimented. Where as it may seem to be a positive thing to make a woman feel good about herself, in the end it is actually tearing down our self-esteem and self confidence. Makes one feel as if the facade is necessary. No longer our armor, it has become our Achilles heel. What we truly want is to be made to feel beautiful and desirable when we are not trying, To feel wanted when we've been doing spring cleaning or working out or have pulled an all-nighter and we're in grubby sweats without a spot of make-up on our face to be seen. Of course, by now we have ruined our self esteem by wearing our image too much so we can now never believe that it is us that is desirable, not just the carefully designed facade.