It's just passed six as I scratch my head and measure coffee into my stainless steal stove-top espresso maker. I am a mix of emotions these days, full of secrets that spend their momentum rattling around the empty cage in my chest.
Climbing a mountain yesterday talking about rape, how to stay safe while running alone, and the importance of bystander intervention. What is inspiring to me is that I am part of the conversation. I have started taking the risk of opening up the dialog and taking measures to say yes, I think about this everyday that I leave my home. I think about this while I am in my home because I live alone. I am by no means a victim. What I am is nails and furry; what I am is sadness and human.
As an artist this is the conversation that interests me. The conversation about rape and equality, the conversation about being human in this world, the conversations about gender and sexuality. I want to be certain and clear that it is understood that I know men have their balls in a vice over this. The beautiful men I adore who are thoughtful, creative, and speak up to be out and fully expressed, we know those are not the things that go bump in the night.
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