I was invisible growing up as well, but that ended abruptly at the age of 16 when I discovered I was beautiful. Not attractive. Beeeyouteefull! Like Helen of Troy. Like a fucking movie star.
This catapulted me from the realm of invisibility into the realm of hyper-visibility.
I won't pretend I didn't like it. I won't pretend that beauty isn't a superpower every bit as useful and transformative as telekinesis.
But, of course, flesh being flesh, beauty always fades. I'm no longer beeeyouteeful; I'm "attractive for my age," which given the fact that I'm 62, gives me roughly the equivalency of a piece of lawn furniture when I venture out into the world.
I'm back to being invisible again, in other words.
I will say this: For those of us whose earliest role model was Harriet the Spy, it's a lot more useful being invisible than it is being hyper-visible. You are no longer an object. You can watch people, and they won't notice you're watching them
( ... )
Well I will need to write a whole blog post in response to this. Many things to respond to. But I want to say that one of the reasons I enjoy writing about film is because it is not about me. Out of the realm of the blogosphere it is also where I have become the most successful and recognized "writer" me. That's why I continue to publish my film writing. It's "my voice" but not about me. As far as the beautiful thing goes, I will need to address that in a blog post.
Also the subjects of my art are no longer "me." I was the subject of my art before I became a mom,so that has been liberating. My expression but not me as subject.
Also I think you missed the point that I don't care if I "become someone". Writing and art have been integral to my survival. I know I have communicated with many through my experiences but not to others. There are so many forms of expression that make the world go round.
Often I don't have words after reading you. I have emotions. Reactions. Insight into this human condition. And gratitude for your continued existence and bravery.
Thank you for still being here. For following me on my journey. For feeling with me. It means so much to me. It truly does. You are a continuous source of inspiration. You feed my heart, and it is so hungry. XO
"I want to be invisible, but I’m scared not to be visible.... I have created this legacy of words and art to attach materiality to the no one I have always been." This is beautifully written, and hits very close to home.
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I was invisible growing up as well, but that ended abruptly at the age of 16 when I discovered I was beautiful. Not attractive. Beeeyouteefull! Like Helen of Troy. Like a fucking movie star.
This catapulted me from the realm of invisibility into the realm of hyper-visibility.
I won't pretend I didn't like it. I won't pretend that beauty isn't a superpower every bit as useful and transformative as telekinesis.
But, of course, flesh being flesh, beauty always fades. I'm no longer beeeyouteeful; I'm "attractive for my age," which given the fact that I'm 62, gives me roughly the equivalency of a piece of lawn furniture when I venture out into the world.
I'm back to being invisible again, in other words.
I will say this: For those of us whose earliest role model was Harriet the Spy, it's a lot more useful being invisible than it is being hyper-visible. You are no longer an object. You can watch people, and they won't notice you're watching them ( ... )
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I have emotions. Reactions. Insight into this human condition. And gratitude for your continued existence and bravery.
Namaste
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