Reading Jane Eyre...

again. It's something I used to do regularly, every couple of years. The first time I read it I was 14. The story of this lost young girl had affected me deeply, changed me, I believe. Childhood was something less than idyllic for me and while I was far from rebellious or difficult, I found it impossible to knuckle under to the concept of being oppressed. My innate sense of justice forbade it, an innate sense I found I shared with Bronte's heroine.

She was a lost young girl but lost in the world-- orphaned, rootless, subsisting on crumbs of affection-- not lost within herself. She governed herself by certain laws and principles independent of popular opinion. She was able to submit without subjugation, to assert her will without dominating.

Jane Eyre was something new for the time, and she is unique still. As we look around at women in fiction, the complexity of her character and strength of her will put her up there where the air is very rare indeed.

These are my thoughts on reading her story again, for the first time in eight years.
Tags: artistic activism, nonprofit, philanthropy, zine, artists, bakery of the poets, jane eyre, reading, literature

Solving the Mystery: A Man's Guide to Surviving PMS

I think this would make a great book.

Frankly, I get annoyed by both sexes. Men who act as if a woman "around that time" is something like a cross between a Hela Monster and Cyclops and are still ridiculously and childishly squeamish about discussing the monthly facts of life. Monsters only live in the closet, so be a man and educate yourself. Women who swear they don't get PMS (when they clearly do). I had a friend who after half threatening to impale her husband with a 10 inch kitchen knife (really, really unusual for her), swore her emotional state was completely unaffected by the fact she was nearing her period.

So maybe I'll write a book. Just for men, giving them a few tips. It could be fun. It could be educational. It could save a marriage. Or a life.

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

So, I spent the week house sitting at Maison Mom's. It was wonderful. She has this great little two-bedroom with a fireplace and an Arabian Nights Princess Bedroom Near a Beach, it was really lovely to have a change of scene; to get away from The Pit for a while, unchain myself from the computer and the endless fundraising worries, to sit by the firelight with a glass of wine and just think.

There is something I love so much about the feel of an empty house. I've lived alone for most of my adult life. And that feeling of coming home from work after a long day, that feeling you get when you first open the door and realize the entire place is empty of all energy save yours...it's brilliant. And now I rent a room in a house inhabited by two high loud talkers, with their pets and the mess and the endless steady stream of cliched, superficial dialogue on which they seem to thrive. Sometimes, I think I will quite literally lose my mind. I'm not built for communal living, clearly. I can deal with any sort of person for a little while, but then I need to go home and find peace and quiet.

debergerac
Tags: artistic activism, nonprofit, philanthropy, zine, artists, bakery of the poets, quiet, peace, solitude, fundraising