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Please Stop Making Feminism All About Men By Kate Hickey QuailBellMagazine.com How we're used to seeing Emma Watson being a badass. I admit I teared up a little while I watched the video of Emma Watson’s lovely speech at the U.N. As a life-long fan of Harry Potter, I felt an immense surge of pride for her. She is doing exactly what Hermione Granger would do. Her speech was detailed, intelligent, and passionate, and I felt the utter sincerity in her words when she said, “I care about this problem.” I felt joy and relief when she outright stated that she lives in a space of privilege. I could tell that Emma Watson knew what she was talking about and believed wholeheartedly in what she was saying. But unfortunately, this speech was not as “game-changing” as the clickbait of Internet news media led me to believe.
Much of Watson’s speech was agonizing the way it structured gendered inequalities. In particular, when Watson pointed out that freeing men from gender roles would, by consequence, free women, I was actually quite angry. Again the need to put men first—by this logic, men must be freed from patriarchy and then women can be free. No. That is not equality. That is not what feminism is working towards. Feminists are not here to free men and then be freed afterwards. It is about freeing everyone, in the same instant, from the toxic cesspool that is the gender binary. By making feminism about saving men, it inverts the entire idea. Feminism is about the equality between the genders/sexes and the reason that there is not equality is because men oppress women. They are not oppressing themselves when they reject socially coded feminine qualities like empathy, compassion, or passivity. They certainly are harming themselves, as Watson points out, but it is not the job of women to protect men from the negative consequences of patriarchy. Women already have enough crap to deal with in relation to negative consequences of patriarchy.
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Yes, Dear, They Are Playing Our Songs Editor's Note: This essay is centered around the narrator's relationship with Albany, New York, state capital and college town. Designed as a mixtape-style EP with four tracks of liner notes, the narrator provides a glimpse into her first year as upstate New York resident and the rights of passage of a woman concluding her late 20's—hitting her stride within her profession, establishing a personal space, and celebrating a life of "single blessedness." “Local Girls” Graham Parker & The Rumour
I return to Albany after a 3-year attempt at domesticity in the Green Mountains. My “lost weekend” a failed experiment. Albany is the city where I grew up. I came here at eighteen—a baby-faced, anxiety-ridden college freshman. I left at 21 with my Master’s degree and mixed feelings. Now 28, I struggle to figure out where I fit in here—I am not a local and my academic days seem far behind me. I travel two to three weeks every month for work—Chicago. New York. Kansas City. Milwaukee. I’m that person who goes “let me check my schedule” before making commitments. People stop inviting you after a while. My apartment is an attempt to define the life of a working woman. An ecru couch and sisal rugs accent restored hardwood floors—only possible within a “no pets, no kids” lifestyle. Rich coffee-colored leather chairs designed for snow days with chai lattes served in hand-thrown pottery. Books stacked on every surface with my own particular logic ascribed their organization. A kitchen island for a desk, the butcher-block top spacious enough to accommodate the latest work assignment. It is my sanctuary. My female answer to the bachelor pad or man cave. I try to invent the feminine term, but all my suggestions sound like slang for vagina. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Burlesque Booty Queen Editor's Note: The following was originally an exclusive interview with Luna Luna Mag, but our friends there have been kind enough to let us republish their words with Jan Tina. Image: Michi R. Studio Rezin Hello, Jan Tina! Thank you so much for taking the time to talk with Luna Luna magazine.
Ok, so I’m going to be totally honest from the get-go. I saw you perform at #whatdatbootydo2 and I was blown away by your performance. And since then I’ve pretty much been lurking on your Facebook and taking notes. This is for a professional interview. I am notthat creepy! But I thought a disclaimer might be in order since some of the questions I have for you come directly from things I saw on Facebook. LYNSEY: So first question: are you totally freaked out by people lurking on your Facebook? (I really hope not.) JAN TINA: Not really…I have learned to look at lurkers as admirers. I am flattered actually! Thank you. LYNSEY: All right, now that the air is totally clear! Tell me about yourself, Jan Tina! I hear that you are originally from the Detroit area. What brought you to New York, and how long ago did you arrive? The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Hemingway and Fitzgerald in Equal Measure I first met Leonard Michaels when I was an undergraduate at UC/Berkeley. He was hunched over his desk, surrounded by untamed heaps of papers and books, a pen hovering over a manuscript. The room felt airless and hot. Still new to California, I stood before the light pouring in through the windows with something like awe. He looked up, face partially obscured by his longish, black hair. “Mr. Michaels,” I said, “I would like to take your fiction writing class…” He sat up, spoke fast, in a scattershot manner…about the amount of work he still had to do, a meeting that afternoon, his damn classes, the screenplay he was supposed to write. Then he extended his hand and asked to see my work. I handed him a five-page short story I had been working and reworking for months in preparation for this moment. As he read the first paragraph, he crossed out words, circled others, furiously wrote in the margin. Then he handed it back to me. He told me to read Chekhov, Kafka, and Isaac Babel and try him again next semester. I walked out demoralized, staring at the first page of my story. “Use active verbs,” he had written, “watch adv.,” “syntax prob.,” “redundant adj.,” “abstract lang.,” “rhythm prob.” He had read only five sentences, but hardly a word was unmarked with blue ink.
Although I did end up getting into his writing class the next semester, I almost learned more from that first brief interaction with Leonard Michaels than I did from his class. The way he deconstructed that one paragraph opened my eyes to a new world. No one had ever looked at my writing so closely, with a jeweler’s eye, attentive to every minute decision, weighing the importance of every syllable. So this is how real writers view prose? I thought. In a way, Michaels set the bar for me. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Hollywood Infected David Lynch's Brain David Lynch is one of the few directors whose films you can talk endlessly about. Something I've often discovered about certain movie directors and their movies is that there comes a point where you can't keep talking about the movie. You can talk about your opinion about the movie with other people, but the analysis comes to an end. You can deconstruct every shot, every line spoken, every bit of subtext and symbolism present, and fully realize the film so you never have to think about it again. There comes a point where you've come to understand the movie, and you can turn your attention to other matters. Some directors make films so strange and out there that it almost becomes impossible to push it aside because you need time and multiple viewings to see fi you can figure out what's really going on.
Lynch isn't the only director who continues to inspire discussion long after you've seen the movie once (see also: Alejandro Jodorowsky, Luis Buñuel, Gaspar Noé, and more), but he's probably the most popular example. My first exposure to David Lynch was watching Mulholland Drive in a film theory class during my freshman year of college. After watching the movie, my teacher told the class “you have one week to figure out what the hell that movie was about.” Unfortunately, no one had a definite answer, but there was still plenty to discuss when we next met because the film left enough to discuss. Mulholland Drive has a fairly simple start, albeit one that takes on some weird qualities as the film progresses. A woman (Laura Elena Harring) is in a car accident after an assassination attempt on Mulholland Drive in Los Angeles. She stumbles out of the wreckage and makes her way to an apartment that is being looked after by an aspiring actress named Betty (Naomi Watts). Betty learns that the woman, now dubbed Rita, has lost her memory, and is determined to help Rita figure out who she is. To add further complications, Rita's purse only contains thousands of dollars in cash, a strange blue key, and no other form of identification. While Betty and Rita attempt to figure out who Rita really is, a director named Adam (Justin Theroux) deals with some intimidating gangsters who are set on having him cast a woman named Camilla Rhodes in his next film, The Sylvia North Story. Adam goes through the worst day ever because of this, discovering his wife having an affair, having his staff fired, having his credit declined, leaving him a complete mess through all of this. Adam's story continues to get worse until he has an important meeting with a cowboy, at which he finally has to compromise and hire Camilla Rhodes. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
¡A celebrar!It's National Hispanic Heritage Month, a time to recognize the achievements of Hispanic leaders and communities across the United States. We're kicking it off with this original illustration: #Real #NationalHispanicHeritageMonth #HispanicHeritage #HispanicPride #HispanicCulture #Latinos #Diversity #Fall Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Shamelessly Being Who You Are Looks Like Fun By Kate Hickey QuailBellMagazine.com You might remember Mary Lambert from Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’s hit “Same Love” in 2012. She sang the beautiful, haunting chorus that truly pulled that song together. She, along with Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, made a difference in Washington state’s Referendum 74, which legalized same-sex marriage that year. Since then, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis have rocketed into superstardom, but Mary Lambert was a bit left behind.
Not anymore. Her music video for her single “Secrets” debuted at the end of July and has since gained over two million views on YouTube. Most of Lambert’s other work is slow, serious, and quiet, but this song is an upbeat jam, something anybody would love to play at a party to get people dancing. You could definitely leave the song at that and continue on with your life, but if you look a little deeper, the song becomes so much more. In this song, Mary Lambert tells us all of her secrets. She tells us the silly, the absurd, the sensitive, and the sad parts of her that anybody would be inclined to hide from the world. She opens the song with the lyrics: “Okay. Game face. Here we go.” In this deep breath before the plunge, you can feel that this song, and Mary Lambert, are going to be one hundred percent honest with the audience. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Sestras in Crime, Love, and Science Warning: Due to the nature of this series, it is impossible to discuss certain aspects of the show without revealing spoilers. As a result, this review will contain spoilers for the first two seasons of Orphan Black. You have been warned. When I first heard about Orphan Black, I didn't really know what to make of it. It was just a show I saw people on Tumblr raving about, with GIF sets of the various characters played by Tatiana Maslany and quotes appearing on my dashboard. When I finally looked up what the BBC Sci-fi series was about, I found it a little more interesting and complex than I imagined. Because of that, I decided to view the series, watching the two seasons of the show that have aired. What I found is one of the best genre shows on TV right now, with an incredible leading performance and a complex story.
The series begins with con artist Sarah Manning (Maslany) returning to Toronto to try and reclaim her daughter from her former foster mother. While at a train station, Sarah witnesses a woman committing suicide by throwing herself in front of a train. The woman, Beth Childs (also played by Maslany), looks exactly like Sarah. Sarah steals Beth's purse and decides to briefly assume her identity in order to take all her money and start a new life with her foster brother, Felix (Jordan Gavaris), and her daughter, Kira (Skyler Wexler). Unfortunately, this plan does not go easily. In the first two episodes, Sarah learns that Beth is a police detective under indictment for shooting a civilian, leading to complications to get the money and flee. At the same time, a German woman named Katja (also Maslany) appears in Sarah's car, only to get shot in the head. At the end of the second episode and explained in the beginning of the third episode, Sarah learns exactly what kind of conspiracy she's involved in. She meets two other women who look exactly like her: the neurotic soccer mom Alison Hendrix (again, Maslany) and the snarky PH.D student Cosima Niehaus (Maslany. Noticing a trend?). It's then that Sarah learns why there are so many women who look like her: they're clones. Sarah, Beth, Alison, Cosima, Katja, and many other women around the world were all part of a cloning experiment in the 1980s, only now they're all being killed off one by one. The series follows the main trio of Sarah, Alison, and Cosima as they meet other clones, including the Ukrainian assassin Helena and the cold businesswoman Rachel, and try to figure out who really can help them and who is out to end them. While this is going on, they have to deal with the troubles in their personal lives, especially when the conspiracies involve those they are close to. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Writing Teachers I Have Known The first one I found online. She taught Intro to Chic Lit, and I signed up in ignorance and desperation. I had been writing about a mom on the Upper East Side who was losing it after having her first child.
A thinly veiled diary, but that first year, writing seemed my only defense against a well of fears I had never before suffered. In motherhood, I lost my identity and simultaneously found a new life. Nursing, singing, naming every little thing we passed. Bird, boat, tree, light. The joy of hearing her voice, as it formed, from gurgles to sounds to sentences. My experience felt singular, though universal. Writing fueled my days and helped me process the difficult parts. I would watch my child in the late morning, after playtime, for the first signs of sleep. A lengthened blink, the drooping eyelid, a mere yawn. Sometimes, I had to walk her in the stroller around the block or out to the East River and back before she’d go under, but thoughts of writing filled my mind as I paced. I’d repeat phrases like a mantra so I’d remember later when she slept. And I’d rush to my computer and pour out the words like balm for my soul. After a few weeks of virtual class, the teacher responded by email. “Chic lit is usually funny and flirtatious.” I apologized to her. To myself, I criticized my writing. It was dark and depressing, maybe even murky. But the door had opened. I didn’t turn back. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Art vs. Porn—the debate continues!
So some photographer, Wyatt Neumann, took his two-year-old daughter on a cross-country trip, took some photos of her in her birthday suit. And we might have never known about these photos except that he came under some fire. People thought he was a pervert and a child molester. An article in The Huffington Post claims just the opposite: He is an artist and purveyor of beautiful and chivalrous things other than pornography, if that's even possible.
So what did the photographer father do about the controversy? If you guessed open up a gallery show of his photographs and share the story with several media outlets, then you are correct! Many of Wyatt Neumann's defenders would like to turn the accusations on his critics, suggesting that they themselves are the ones validating the images as pornography. Some people have pulled the "whoever smelt it, dealt it" card on this debate, as if that carries some relevance in the adult world. In my opinion, this is a typical clash of the "Of course! But maybe…" scenarios worth dissecting. As in: "Of course his critics are themselves child perverts! Why else would they find these images of a two-year-old girl pornographic? But maybe…they are more interested in keeping the child safe from actual perverts." Conversely, there is also: "Of course the father is just interested in preserving memories of his daughter's youthful innocence, and he just so happened to be a professional photographer! But maybe…he could have kept these photos private and never posted them online…" Chances are that many of his critics are not child pornography enthusiasts themselves, and they may not even be concerned parents. Some may just believe that any nude image of a child is a good nude image for an adult who likes child pornography. So, even if the photos are not risque, and I certainly don't think they are, they're still accessible to those who would see them like that. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Thinking About Others, Zombies, and Painful Truths By Kate Hickey QuailBellMagazine.com In the media these days, bigger is generally better. We want explosions. We want big budgets. We want the CGI to look like real life. And sometimes, because of that, we let narrative quality slide in favor of those technological features. There’s nothing wrong with that from time to time—I love a good, loud, CGI explosion as much as the next girl—but I frequently find myself craving shows that are smaller scale, quieter, and choose the story over the graphics. One such television program has recently caught my attention, and it’s called In The Flesh. Created and written by Dominic Mitchell for England’s BBC3, In The Flesh has become pretty popular in recent months, but it still has a long way to go before anyone would consider it a big part of the mainstream media.
In The Flesh takes place in the fictional village of Roarton, a small, rural community in England, and the tensions in the town are running high as the show opens. This is because the rehabilitated, medicated, Partially Deceased Syndrome Sufferers are being reintroduced into society for the first time since the Rising ended. In a nutshell – zombies are back in town. Humanity faced the zombie apocalypse and it survived. In The Flesh begins post-post-apocalypse. In The Flesh tackles some tough topics both beautifully and subtly. The people of this world have accepted the fantastic into their mundane lives, and what’s amazing is that the fantastic does not eliminate the ordinariness of these people, for better and for worse. The Partially-Deceased Syndrome serves as a metaphor for any kind of Other, anything that makes someone “weird” or “abnormal” or “wrong” according to what the society at large has deemed the standard. The PDS Sufferers in Roarton deal with slurs, segregation, and violence from the rest of the community. They wear make-up and contacts in order to hide their true faces, not only to keep themselves safe from attacks, but also because of the self-loathing that comes from being the Other in a community. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Becoming a Ghost For most people who start getting into film and trying to study it extensively, one of the first directors they tend get attached to is Alfred Hitchcock. I really got into Hitchcock my junior year of high school, and even did my extended essay on Hitchcock for my school's International Baccalaureate program. Hitchcock is a fascinating director, and has created some of the most memorable films of all time, such as Psycho, Vertigo, North by Northwest, Rear Window, and more. His personal life left touches on his films, while his off-screen habits made him one of the first director-celebrities.
Despite his personality and impact on film history, Hitchcock never won a Best Director Oscar. In fact, only one film ever won Best Picture, and it's one of the few films that hardly fits into his autuer style. Rebecca is a 1940 David O. Selznick produced film based on the novel of the same name by Daphne du Maurier (whose novel Jamaica Inn and whose short story The Birds would also be adapted by Hitchcock.) The film is mostly Selznick's, but it is interesting to find the Hitchcock touches within. Rebecca follows a young woman played by Joan Fontaine. She meets a wealthy widower named Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) and they soon get married. He takes her back to his ancestral home, Manderley, in Cornwall. There, she learns about Maxim's first wife, Rebecca, and how the staff, particularly the ghoulish Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson), adored Rebecca and continually compare the new wife to the former. As the film progresses, Fontaine's character begins to learn more about Maxim and Rebecca, particularly how Rebecca's death is not all that it seems. One of Hitchcock's directorial trademarks is the idea of women being trapped. Hitchcock did have some odd relationships with the women in his film (particularly Tippi Hedren), and many of his films feature blonde, female characters being in predicaments they can't escape from, such as Tippi Hedren's character in The Birds being trapped in a phone booth during a bird attack or Janet Leigh's character being trapped in a shower as she's stabbed to death in Psycho. While Rebecca was made to be as faithful to the source material as possible, there are some divergences that do show Hitchcock's touch. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Jazz Manouche at L’Atelier Charonne …But now, I am where I dreamed I would be: L’atelier Charonne. Tonight is Jazz Manouche Piano and I have a glass of red wine that I am too stupid to spell…The band reminds me that I know nothing—it sounds like they’re unraveling melodies like biologists unravel DNA.
Writing may not always be stable or always pay the bills, but if you’re doing it right, it can bring you to beautiful places for “research.” I realized early on that I ought to write about what I care about, and consequently my novel is about a half-Romani (Gypsy) dancer and fortune teller working at a Parisian circus and her strange journey to Nazi hunting. It’s mostly set in the 1940’s and 1920’s, and while I can’t go back in time, I can absolutely go to Paris. I had just finished a very gratifying Writing and Yoga Retreat, as both a participant and a visiting professor, with the Cambridge Writers’ Workshop at the Château de Verderonne in Picardy, France. My brain was ticking over with ideas for the novel, and Geoffrey, the cab driver with the long blond ponytail and a penchant for dance music, was bringing me to Paris for five days of research. I had only one plan: going to the same bar single every night, L’atelier Charonne, where there’s Jazz Manouche at 9 p.m. every evening. Manouche is the name of a Gypsy clan prominent in France, and the French Jazz movement was spearheaded by revolutionary Manouche musician Django Reinhardt, whose black and white portrait hangs on L’atelier Charonne’s wall. And this is where I would write, every night, lit by candles, music, and the ridiculously beautiful bar staff. Writing about my Romani heritage is both an act of pleasure and an act of necessity. Honoring and rediscovering my culture’s beliefs, history, music, food, dance, art, and fashion (and fashion politics) feels like self-love. But there is also the nervous need to explain—not just to explain myself or this part of my family’s culture, but to explain the current human rights crisis. Expressing this pain feels like life or death. The Romani people are an ethnic group originating in India around the 11th century C.E., and since the early Roma left home, they have endured persecution so severe that it gave rise to Roma’s traditional nomadism. All over the world (including the U.S.A.), Roma are illegally deported, forced into camps with poor sanitation and shoddy shelters, segregated in schools, forcibly sterilized, banned from shops and places of work, targeted by hate crimes, human trafficking, and slavery. And this violent prejudice and persecution has been raging for centuries, many people only know of Roma through stereotypes or misrepresentations (like reality TV). The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Typewriter Envy As a kid, perhaps inspired by Nancy Drew, I loved wiping away thick layers of dust from the obscure objects I found beneath the floorboards in our attic: grandpa’s baby shoes, a jewelry box filled with my mom’s lost infant teeth, an engraved hand mirror. I believed that there were stories hidden in these things from the past, stories that begged to be written.
One day, I went searching for a story in our front hall closet. The closet, more Alice in Wonderland than Nancy Drew, is like a rabbit hole because it is under the staircase. The deeper you go in, the farther you must scrunch down. The ceiling runs a sharp diagonal to the floorboard. It was there, in the back of that messy closet, that I found a very important thing of the past: A typewriter! (An electric typewriter, circa 1979, but a typewriter no less.) And I started hammering away. My thoughts appeared in black and white, immediately, as I thought them. I started stamping out my own memories and stories. Click click click click click. I liked to roll my stories back down and re-type over what I had already written. Each letter had its own stamp, its own fresh ink. Language became visible and tangible. Click click click. I was in love. Yet, just like every game one plays as a child, I eventually lost interest in the typewriter. It was my Velveteen Rabbit. I ignored it for American Girl dolls, a new bicycle, my Easy-Bake Oven. It might have run out of ink or just stopped working altogether. I can’t even remember now. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Love the Bohemian Way By Ghia Vitale QuailBellMagazine.com In case you’ve missed it, it’s time to get hip to a new literary gem dazzling the public eye. Slash Coleman is the author of The Bohemian Love Diaries. There’s a good chance that already know him; Slash Coleman is a writer for Psychology Today and an advice columnist on HowDoIDate.com. You might have seen him grace your television screen when you were watching his PBS special, The Neon Man and Me. Be on the lookout for his other PBS show, The New American Storyteller. Currently residing in New York City, Coleman is native to Richmond, Virginia.
I already know what you're thinking: "This is column is called Retro Sex. Why are you giving us an interview instead of exposing the world's awkward sexual history?" Well, The Bohemian Love Diaries is a memoir and frankly, Coleman’s history is peppered with so many interesting details that his biography alone were enough to compel me to know more about him. Plus, the book is all about love and sex. By the end of this interview, there will be no doubt in your mind that this book is every bit as interesting as its title and its author. Ladies, gentleman, and people of all genders: it's time to get retro sexual. Strap up your eye balls and get ready for one hell of a ride. 1.) I see that you've been writing for quite some time. What was the first piece of creative writing that you ever wrote? I didn’t read a book in its entirety until I was a junior in college. I thought books were for people who were smarter than I was and between Chaucer, Shakespeare and diagramming sentences my relationship to reading failed to launch. To me, the line between literature and math was a blurry one at best. I managed to graduate high school thanks to a decent tutor and Cliffnotes. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
One Last WhistleEditor's Note: Cinematic legend Lauren Bacall died on August 12, 2014. This is Quail Bell Magazine's admittedly belated but nonetheless heartfelt tribute to her. When I first was exposed to Lauren Bacall, I was watching a program on TV counting down the best movie quotes of all time. One of the quotes I saw came from a movie called To Have and Have Not. I recognized the scene as something I saw a parody of in The Far Side, but now I understood the context. In the clip, a gorgeous woman in a pinstripe robe is about to leave a room, and tells the man in the room to whistle for her. She pauses in the doorway and says the immortal line: “You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and...blow.” That line and that role was what helped push Lauren Bacall into the public conscious. She gained the role in that film when she was only nineteen after director Howard Hawks' wife saw Bacall on the cover of Harper's Bazaar. Her chemistry with actor Humphrey Bogart was what helped give her a larger role in the film, and the two would marry sometime after production wrapped. The two would remain together until Bogart's death in 1957. Bacall's career spanned decades, including roles in films like The Big Sleep, Key Largo, Murder on the Orient Express, and more. Most of these roles played up Bacall's unique appearance, with her crooked eyebrows, piercing eyes, and low voice. Her voice is part of the name of a voice disorder known as Bogart-Bacall syndrome, in which horseness develops when people speak or sing outside their normal vocal range. Bacall will be remembered for her work on film, television, and stage. She had a unique look and carried herself in a way that will be remembered when one looks back on classic Hollywood cinema. With a career of over seventy years, it will be hard to forget how to whistle. All one has to do is think of the fabulous Lauren Bacall, and it will come back to them. #Real #LaurenBacall #HollywoodStars #CinematicLegends #Movies #GoldenEra #FilmTelevisionStage #TheBigSleep Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Here's something to do tonight... By The Quail Bell Crew QuailBellMagazine.com Mellow Gold, a collection of art by Tim Skirven will be released by Richmond, Virginia publisher Sink/Swim Press TONIGHT at Quirk Gallery. Skirven is a Richmond, Virginia based artist and graphic designer. He obtained a BFA in graphic design from James Madison University in 2008 and spent the following few years bouncing between touring with bands and pursuing art. After brief spells in Harrisonburg and Virginia Beach, Skirven landed in Richmond summer of 2011. He's shown work locally at Chop Suey Books, 821 Cafe, Studio 23, and Quirk Gallery. Skirven has also shown Virginia-wide at Larkin Arts in Harrisonburg and the Peninsula Fine Arts Center in Newport News. When not making art, Skirven is hanging out with his wife, petting his cats, being outside and riding boards and bikes whenever possible. “While Mellow Gold is also a fantastic album by Beck, this title was bestowed upon me by my late, great best friend J. Taylor Potter. His death left a hole in my heart that I can only fill by letting his energy influence my art and writing. He used to tell me that “it’s all around us” but now I believe he is all around me. Taylor’s mother, Mary Beth, recently gifted me a collection of his writings and I’ve chosen, with her permission, to publish three of my favorite pieces in this book.” -Tim Skirven Learn more about the event on Facebook here. Sink/Swim Press is an independent publisher based in Richmond, Virginia. Over the last five years, Sink/Swim has released ten books, and multiple records. Their work can be seen here. #Real #Art #Book #Release #MellowGold #SinkSwimPress #RVA Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Where's Walden? By Sarah Schwister QuailBellMagazine.com Walden is an American book written by noted transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau, a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings published in 1849. It was an experiment where he lived a couple miles from the town and his parents (so not literally in the middle of nowhere) and the experiment would go on for two years and two months (and two days):
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." The book goes on to describe obstacles that he faced, responses to the townsfolk who could not understand why he went out or what he did all day, and a social and philosophical mediation of his time “off the grid.” He lived the pioneer life, being supported by no one and working with only his hands and the land—growing his own food, producing his own heat, and building his own house(or at least that was his intention). He took trips to town, but more for the trip itself than necessity. But, as the townsfolk were constantly inquiring, is why? Why would you choice to live off the grid, and how can you live out of society like that? Thoreau quickly states that his living in nature was purely an experiment and in no way permanent, he does continue to tell that the reasoning for his move is that people lead superficial lives. We all used to lead simpler lives, with gardens in the backyard and walking to school, and his argument is there is still a virtue in that life. Excess possessions not only require more work to purchase them, but oppress us with worry and material constraint. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
From the Mouth of a MetalsmithSerendipitous happenings. My love for transforming metals and stones into my own personal adornments expanded into creating for friends, which eventually led to small collections and shows and finally into my very own brand. I now have a full working studio in our two bedroom apartment to meet my growing customer base—a feat I am ever grateful for. Dabbling in several different facets of jewelry design allowed me to explore and find the areas in which I thrived. Each day is a learning process where I continue to surprise myself with small serendipitous happenings that make for new designs and techniques. Alchemy. Minimalism is a concept that inspires my work in both metals and precious/semi-precious stones. I aim to create pieces highlighting my strong metalsmithing abilities. These pieces can either stand out alone or be layered, stacked, and mixed to create a unique look dependent on the wearer. Ideally, I aim to create pieces that everyone will enjoy, but in the end, I usually ask myself, would I wear this? If the answer is no, I will keep tinkering until the piece becomes what I envision and sometimes beyond my imagination. There is certainly a different kind of satisfaction that comes from visualizing, creating, and wearing the thing that once lived in my own imagination: it’s alchemical.
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#TheStruggleIsRealWork. We all gotta do it (except, of course, for the independently wealthy, but there are more productive things to do than seethe over their lifestyle.) For many professionals, the trajectory is clear: If your lifelong ambition is to become a lawyer, you go to college, take the LSAT, go to law school, and start practicing law. If you dream of becoming a doctor, you go to college, take the MCAT, go to medical school, complete your residency, and off you go doctoring. Should you wish to become a teacher, you go to college, and, depending on the state, take the Praxis, go to grad school, student teach, and earn your certification. Are you noticing a pattern here? No such pattern exists for the artist. You can become a "successful" artist with or without high school, with or without college, with or without post-graduate exams, even with or without actually making money from your art. You may be surprised to learn how even many popular novelists and independent filmmakers have to do something other than write novels and make films in order to survive. In fact, most artists do not make a living off of their art. They may make a living using their creative skills—such as a talented writer who writes riveting press releases or a talented painter who makes beautiful illustrations for ads—but most do not pay the bills from their purely artistic projects. It's really hard to sell enough poems or oil paintings to make rent month after month, year after year. For that reason, many artists go into journalism, advertising, public relations, academia, and similar fields. Others go into something else altogether.
We asked a few members of The Quail Bell Crew what kind of art they make and what they do to get by. Here's how they responded: The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A "Bass" Step to Beauty Acceptance By Sarah Schwister QuailBellMagazine.com Meghan Trainor’s hit song “All About That Bass,” has been booming and blasting through radio speakers all summer, drawing listeners and critics in alike. With over eleven million hits on her music video on YouTube (and climbing) and number eight on the Billboard’s Top 100, it makes you wonder, what is all the commotion about?
It’s a positive, mainstream, easy to understand body acceptance piece. And the best part: It’s taking off like wildfire. “Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t a size two,” is one of the first lines in the song. Why is the acceptance of bigger ladies such a positive thing? Because all people should be treated as people, no matter what they look like. The power of this mainstream hit is that ideally people will hear more about being accepting of people who are bigger built, especially the ladies. Bloggers who do “not understanding the fat acceptance movement” will hopefully “understand” a bit better that some things are beyond our control. We don’t chose what family we are born into, what our skin color is (no, tanning doesn’t count), what sex we are born with, or where we'll grow up. Songs like this—ones with a positive message—not only call attention to the fact that it's not bad to look different but that all people are people. So, she ain’t a size two, and tell all those skinny bitches—hey, it sounds like Trainor is skinny shaming. Could she be? There is a thin woman dancing in the candy pop pink music video in a blue dress and plastic wrap generally getting out “booty shake’d” by the heavier woman. Although skinny shaming is a factor, it's not a major point of the song (and she does say she is just kidding). The song is validation for women who are curvier, who in our current culture don’t tend to receive many props. That validation is a daily thing for the more culturally accepted, skinnier, commonly attractive women so much so that they don’t often realize it. Why not pass the baton around to all women rather than keeping it in the secluded section of “beautiful” women? The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Control is NOT love.Girl meets boy and boy meets girl. She’s a 21-year-old senior at WSU Vancouver who is getting ready to graduate and is still a virgin. He’s a young, ambitious billionaire who owns his own company in Seattle. They meet in an unexpected fashion, fall in love and live happily ever after. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m referencing the relationship of Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey from New York Times Bestellers’ list, Fifty Shades of Grey, written by E.L. James.
Before I get too far into this, let me address that I am not a prude in any way, shape, or form. I am aware of what the bondage/discipline and sadomasochism or sadism and masochism lifestyles entails. I don’t find it offensive and I’ve read erotic romance novels before on my own accord. My qualms with Fifty Shades of Grey do not lie with the BDSM itself. It’s the characters. My irritation lies with them and how their relationship works on a day-to-day basis. Anastasia “Ana” Steele is shy yet intelligent girl. At the beginning of the trilogy, she says that she is a “pale, brown-haired young woman with blue eyes too big for her face.” She also says on multiple occasions that she is slim, pale and scruffy. In short, she’s insecure. I think that some point in our lives, we are all insecure. But the constant degradation of the female protagonist is unnerving. Can we just end the pity party and move on? Christian Grey is a 27-year-old billionaire who owns his own company; there is no board involved. He is fluent in French; he loves to fly helicopters and gliders; he has been playing the piano since he was six years old; and he is accustomed to a lavish lifestyle. Author E.L. James created a man who doesn’t exist; but is fantasized by women—and men—across the globe. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Bunny Pistol: Burlesque Performer Extraordanaire Rosa Sifuentez—aka Bunny Pistol—isn't your average anything. Born and raised "East of East L.A." she wended her way to San Francisco at 19 and never looked back.
Toggling between two careers—by day she works as an event + hair color specialist/make-up artist at Tease Salon and by night shakes it in her skivvies as the founder of Barbary Coast Burlesque—Bunny is anything but bored. A curvaceous woman with shocks of lagoon-green hair amid dark tresses and a bevy of tattoos, she feels like a neo-Bettie Page. We met up at Good Bellies Cafe in Temescal Oakland to talk about this month's show, her upcoming festival in New York and how burlesque saved her life. So how did this whole burlesque career get off of the ground? Why San Francisco? San Francisco was a city I dreamed about moving to—it's very different than L.A. To me, it represented a lot of history. I loved the architecture, the weather—it felt careful, cool and artistic. [laughs.] I went to my first burlesque show in 2002—Teaserama at Bimbo's and I said to myself, "I wanna do that! That's exactly what I need to be doing." But it took me five years to take my first class. It's such a celebration of the female body—I feel in love with it and came out of "retirement" in 2007. When I was an actor I didn't feel like I hitting my stride—but with burlesque I immediately felt like, this is where my family of freaks are! The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Modernizing and Racebending Annie is a Great Idea By Kate Hickey QuailBellMagazine.com We all know the "Tomorrow" song. There’s a dog. The themes of family and positivity. That’s what everyone loves so much about Annie: the ceaseless optimism of children, people who haven’t been beaten down by the world into borderline-religious cynicism. Annie is the little girl that reminds everyone that even with all the hurt in the world, there is always a reason to smile and have hope.
This adaptation looks like it’s going to be perfect. With stars Jamie Foxx, Cameron Diaz, Rose Byrne, and Quvenzhané Wallis as the titular Annie, the casting of this movie looks exciting, dynamic, and diverse. Actually, hold on, let’s talk about Quvenzhané Wallis for a moment. Did you know she’s the youngest actress ever to be nominated for an Academy Award? She was nominated in 2013 for Beasts of the Southern Wild at age nine. That means that this girl is probably the best little girl in the business to play Annie! Wouldn’t you agree? So, if that’s true, then why is there so much backlash and negativity surrounding this production of Annie? Hm. I’m betting it’s because they’ve turned sweet, freckly, ginger, white Annie black. As a matter of fact, I’m not even betting. I know it’s true. Here are some of the comments on the YouTube video of the trailer for this movie: The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Highway to the Soul By John C. Kojak QuailBellMagazine.com My father didn’t leave much behind when he left this world, at least not anything of monetary value, but he did give me one thing that has been invaluably important in my life: a deep love and appreciation for blues music.
Some of my earliest memories are of him sitting in the den at night and listening to his records. We children were not allowed to disturb him while he was in there, but I always had a sense that something very profound was happening. I was young, and like any son I wanted to bond with my farther, so I began to ask him who these musicians were and why their music was so important to him. He seemed to approve of me taking an interest, and I loved it when he would sit me on his lap while he flipped through the albums and told me stories about the people on the covers and the meanings behind their songs. Bands like The Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin, were his favorites, but he said that they all got their sounds, and a lot of their songs, from listening to an earlier form of music called the blues. His words would become hushed as he spoke about these old black musicians who had come out of the Mississippi Delta region in the 1920s and '30s. He called them bluesmen, and whispered their names with a reverence I had never heard him use before…Robert Johnson…Son House…Muddy Waters…It was if he was speaking of kings. |
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