Preparing to go out is a practice of expecting judgement--explicit or implicit--about my person. Once past the initial introduction, I am powerfully charming, capably playful, and intellectually stimulating. But the judgement phase comes first, and withstanding that onslaught while maintaining my natural effervescence is emotionally draining.
I watched awards season this year with mixed feelings. I'm thrilled that "BlackkKlansman" got the attention and awards it so deserved (though I was bummed it didn't get Oscar Best Picture), and happy, also, that a movie about a capable, powerful woman in the shadows of her husband's success (The Wife) got so many eyeballs... Continue Reading →
Twenty years ago yesterday, Tim and I went on a date. We'd gone on dates before, awkward, blushing dates where holding hands is terrifying and you're sure all your friends are watching. In high school, we dated for six months, and went beyond those innocent hand-holding dates, but in the beginning, it was Norman Rockwell,... Continue Reading →
My acrylic socks make my feet snug and happy inside my Keen sandals. When it rains later today, I'll change into waterproof shoes, but right now I'm enjoying the delicious embrace of webbed shoes. There's a bunch of stuff I have done in Oregon that I would never even have considered while living in the... Continue Reading →
I've spent a lot of time lately with creative people; hundreds of writers at a conference, and in my writers group, and in the seminar I'm attending for teaching artists. And, of course, everyone I work with at Multnomah Arts Center is an artist in their own right; clay and steel and paint and dance... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 