I recently watched a stand-up piece where a comedienne talked about art history and how, throughout history, famous art has been predominantly expressed through the lens of a man.
This made me sad, as I think the world is vast enough to be viewed from all kinds of different lenses. But I’m also hopeful. Hopeful to be living in a world where we now each have an opportunity to create our own platforms. To share our stories and unique perspectives.
I know that I’ll never know enough. But the hope I have is to never stop learning. Never stop cracking things open and looking inside of them. Because I know that no one thing is just one thing. I want to scratch the surface. To dig deeper. To ask questions. To challenge beliefs that keep me in captivity. To examine the stories that I tell myself. The stories that replay themselves so many times, they form slippery pathways in my mind. That become harder and harder to quit. Because they reinforce all the reasons why ‘’it’s not me who needs to change.’’
I yearn to see these stories for what they are… Stories.
When people all around me are getting swept up in one mass hysteria or another, I want to find the strength to take some deep breaths and continue to live my life so freely that my mere existence is an act of rebellion.
I talked about this on a podcast I was interviewed on called, Shameless Sex.
Click here to listen to the interview.