The yearly exodus of creative talent is a psychological drain on those of us who remain. It’s a bitter pill I’m happy to swallow if it means the creative, financial, and mental success of my fellow artists. But it doesn’t make me like being Left Behind in Beaumont any more.
An exercise in micro-blogging.
Washington D.C. — The White House expects President Trump to sign a new executive order this week to combat poverty. The order, titled “The Best Modest Proposal,” was leaked to the media and has raised quite a few eyebrows around Washington.
I spent most of this week asking myself, “Am I OK?”
You’d think I’d be the utmost authority on this, the subject of What I Feel.
The fact is, I’m not, and I haven’t been for longer than I can say.
I want to share things that you don’t say in polite company.
The Milky Way, Universe — Intergalactic ranking website, PurseSad.com, listed “Earth” as one of the worst places to raise a family, citing lack of global access to clean drinking water, the refusal of wealthy countries to accept refugees escaping war-torn regions, and the comments on Southeast Texas news’ Facebook pages.
Why am I afraid? Maybe I’m not. My fear is not the fear of those with less privilege than me.
I will be ok.
Of course I will – I am white. Yes, I’m female, but I believe both genders suffer in a world that says, “Men: be this way. Women: be that way” and then punishes those who say, “No.”
If I’m not afraid, what am I?
If a cockroach is in your apartment, and you aren’t looking at it, is it touching everything you love? Read On…
Not even halfway through the week, but I feel like I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant people articulate what I could never express, so I thought I’d share some of their insights below.
Always seek yourself. I’ve internalized that mantra since high school. When life felt full of questions, I wrote them down. Sometimes I found answers, sometimes I found more questions. More importantly, over time, I found myself.
Millennials are constantly derided for our “me” focus, but looking inward makes us grow. We’re a generation that asks, “Why?”
Older generations hate that question – we see it lampooned frequently in family sitcoms. A beleaguered adult wit-wrestles with a child who repeatedly asks, “Why?”
And what is the reaction?