Conversation at Playgroup

I was almost outed at playgroup. A couple weeks back one of the members hosted a Friday night deck party so the moms could get together sans kids and have some fun. Having missed the previous two, I was really excited  to attend this time. It was a small but chatty group. Most of the time I'm so swept up trying to keep eyes on my "Dennis the Menace" during playgroup that I barely make conversation with other moms. I worry about how that comes across--my lack of conversation making--so this deck party was a good opportunity.

The conversation took the usual  bends and twists---kids, husbands, jobs, etc., until, I guess inevitably, the subject of Facebook came up. Now, I have to admit Bunny in everyday life has developed a bit of a Facebook addiction particularly since she got an Iphone. One mom mentioned something I posted regarding pole dancing....my sphincter clenched a little...I'm not gonna lie. I took a deep breath and told them all about my pole dancing, the class I took, that I have a pole at home, muscle groups, competitions and so on. I managed to keep the conversation lighthearted and flowing solely along the lines of me and my pole dancing hobby. That is, until, the same mom mentioned that I also had friends who did burlesque....................gulp.

Now for the sake of clarity--I think it's pretty obvious that I look up to and admire burlesque artists and anyone who supports it and in no way want to give the impression that I would be embarrassed to be personally associated with any artist in any medium----however, I really, really did not want to have THAT conversation at that moment. Not knowing what direction the inquiry would take us all in, I blurted out "I have  friends that do all kinds of things. I have a degree in theater and my friends have done lots of things" and then spilled my wine cooler all over the glass picnic table like a total fucking moron. No one seemed to notice or care so much about that. I quickly changed the subject to my favorite subject---potty training. The night moved on.

I felt really bad about it, though. I still do. A little bit of a Judas almost--dramatic as that sounds (not a Lady Gaga reference--I'm sorry but I don't understand what the fuss is about with that one. I liked her better when she was Madonna). It's not that I want to be one person with one group of people and another person in another group of people. That's not an admirable quality. I'm just not ready. And let's be serious--this is the infancy of this journey. I don't have any street cred. I'm certainly not going to go around lecturing people on my career as an artist.

The unfortunate thing is that I would have liked to have had THAT conversation with that particular mom. She has a career in art and would probably be very receptive. But I just couldn't do it. Not with the other moms. I'm afraid if they judge me negatively than they would also judge my son negatively. That would be a crushing blow. But there are half naked pictures of me on the internet now. So I think at some point it may come up in discussion. I like my half naked pictures on the internet, by the way.

I want to tell my parents. I need to tell my parents. My mom will be fine, she'll just be hurt that I didn't tell her sooner, I think. My dad, that's going to be a hard one. But he lives close so I have to tell him if I plan on doing more locally, which is a goal of mine. I guess since we all live on the internet we're all local in a sense, though.

All I know is that I cannot go backwards, only forward. I'm too happy and have too much invested to let worry stop me. So I'm looking towards the next opportunity--whatever it may be. I wonder how many moms googled "pole dancing" that night when they went home?

Pictures

So I want to talk more about pictures and being in them and making them. I've always appreciated photography but never had a desire to learn to use a camera or be a model. I never remember to bring a camera anywhere. If it wasn't for my husband I don't think we'd have any pictures of our son. In my house Christmas and Easter were on the same role of film.

Growing up I had two real "model" references. When I was four or five my parents acquired a large stack of back issues of National Geographic. I would sit for hours looking at pictures of far away places--travel and archeology interested me a lot. I also looked at a lot of half-clothed aboriginal type women. That made a huge impression on me. They adorned their bodies with feathers and beads, they had tattoos and body piercings. Some had long dusty dreadlocks and others had deep black angular haircuts sculpted with sharp blades of grass. Sinewy, powerful and yet with soft bellies and voluptuous breasts. I saw a hardness in their expressions. I don't know if they where just tired from hard physical labor or perhaps they didn't feel the pressure of "posing" for their picture like in western culture. At any rate, I know I studied them very intently and openly but I don't remember either of my parents saying anything at all to me about them.

Then in my teen years  I had a subscription to Sassy--not Seventeen. Sassy was Seventeen for geeky early 90's grunge chicks--right up my alley. I also every now and then got my hands on a back issue of Harper's Bizarre which was totally awesome because it was so high fashion and artsy and adult and none of the other girls ever even heard of it.

Somewhere between the two references "model" became a static image about selling clothing or make up and less about conveying an idea or an emotion or a human experience. And of course, once my brain decided that that was what is was about, the idea of posing for a picture became intimidating. Something to measure myself against. And as such, it wasn't art to me. It was advertisement. So I never developed a desire, until recently, to explore it as narrative or whatever.

Alllll that being said, I was really excited to have my pictures taken with Tom (check my previous post about him). I was curious to see what I looked like and where I felt I fit, if I did, on some spectrum in my head. Of course there are tons of candid pictures of me and obviously I know what I think I look like in my daily life but this was going to be an opportunity to see myself through a different lens--yeah obvious remark, get over it. As mentioned earlier, I was pleased by the experience and the results.

One of the most satisfying outcomes was that Tom was open to doing some nudes---which wasn't really discussed as part of our plan. Yeah. In retrospect, springing nudity on even the most professional person is probably a bit of a no-no on my part. However when I brought it up pretty late in the day, he was totally cool and obliging. So why? Because I am feeling this kind of intense need to forge my own way through the last bit of post baby body image stuff, because I just wanted to see what it would look like, because I thought it may be a nice thing to do for my husband, because it felt right. Maybe that sounds completely over the top vain or whatever but it comes from a  place of total honesty in myself. I wanted to see if what's reflected in the bathroom mirror is the whole story or if there is a possibility of more.

 I am seated in the photo. The light/shadow make these beautiful shapes and indentations around my collar bones and my shoulders. My skin looks flawless. Editing? Perhaps. I have mom boobs. They don't land on my chest in the same place they did five years ago. Proof positive. Yes, indeed those are my boobs. If you look closely, the way I am sitting causes the bottom of my belly to slightly touch the top of my thighs. Another confirmation. I've got a little pot belly. It's right there in the picture. Interestingly, though, it kinda reminds me of the aboriginal women. And I like that. I feel a kinship with them now.

So I guess I am a "full frontal mom" now. Like, officially. Not something I had expected to happen at the start of this project but something I am none the less proud of. Picture making is a new goal. I want to do stuff with pictures. Like tell stories with them and stuff. Naked or not. I'm not sure that I'm any good at it and I have a lot to learn but that's what this is all about anyway, right? Right.

I am a little blue, though. A little lonesome. Other people have a local scene or are part of a troupe or network of performers. I'm just kind of here. I have to find where and with whom I fit--if I do at all. It would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of or make stuff with or something. I don't have a tennis partner. If I am going to move forward at all I need a new goal--like getting into another show or something. Because now I'm antsy. Again, not a popular topic at playgroup.

So I could go on and tell all four of you about my husband's reaction to the whole thing but I'll give your eyes a rest for now. Until next time.

I hope I did this right....

Here is the link to my flickr thing or whatever in case you haven't seen the pictures by Tom Storm. Thanks!

Bunny's Flickr

Oh, and a very Happy Mother's Day to you! Mr. Bunny made a lovely breakfast and then the boys and I took a long walk along a recently restored trail developed from an old railroad line overlooking the river. Then we went out to hibachi with the rest of the family--three generations of mothers represented! It was a good day.

I can only hope to look back at this time in my career as a mom and feel like I didn't screw up him too bad! Not yet anyway. Although we are having a little squabble over him wanting to wear lipstick now. As soon as I mention the whole "lady hands" thing now he wants "lady lips". Nail polish--bad, lipstick--good. I need to buy him some chapstick I suppose.

Until next time....

I forgot!!

I was so busy recounting my day in the last post that I forgot to share this with you!

Whisper De Corvo is a total effing ham sandwich!! I use ham sandwich as a moniker for the type of people I was talking about in my early post--those that come into a room and totally light it up with their energy. I call them ham sandwich because  you could sit and watch them eat a ham sandwich and be totally fascinated. Anyway, Whisper is from Seattle and performed at Jim Thorpe Burlesque Festival. She is an artist, burlesque dancer, gorgeous model and........a mom who blogs!!! yes!

I've only had a chance to read a couple of her posts but plan on sitting down and reading over her story. Please check it out with me!

Being a Burlesque Momma

Lady Hands

Coming off the high of the festival I thought it would be interesting and appropriate to have some pin up photos taken. Apparently the majority of burlesque dancers also do a lot of modeling--pin up, fetish, artistic nudes, etc. Since I wasn't sure what to do next I figured I'd give it a go.

Luckily, local photographer/musician/artist Tom Storm was available and interested in doing a shoot. He and I went to the same high school.  Our greatest joint endeavor previous to picture making was our school production of Grease---he played Danny and I played Rizzo. He was good. Since those days Tom has been creating some really awesome art and has traveled all over the world!  Somewhere along the way I've misplaced my Pink Ladies jacket....

 That was so awkward to write "doing a shoot". How silly. Other than a simple black and white head shot back in college I've never posed for any kind of professional pictures. I feel awkward in most social situations let alone having my photo taken and trying to exude a certain femininity or sexiness--ugh, it makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little just thinking about having to project sexy--like, on purpose, on cue. I'm really bad at that. What was I thinking?!

I had a plan for that morning. Wardrobe was already packed and ready to go. I had worked out my hair and make up several times and had an approximate idea of how long it was going to take me to complete. Hence, getting up an hour earlier to ready in peace. This way I could drop my son off at daycare and go straight to my session with no complications. The only complication I managed to overlook was what would happen if my three year old decided to wake up an hour early. Which he did. And also what would happen if he woke up an hour early and decided to spend his hour directly under my feet trying to eat hair mousse, put my bobby pins in the toilet and take everything out of my makeup case. Which he did. I had a bit of a meltdown and sent him to his room to play. Which resulted in him having a meltdown.

I also have a phobia about being late for things--allegrophobia, apparently. Ten minutes early is on time for me and anything less than that stresses me out. The unexpected morning chaos was about to make me late--by my own definition--and there would be no way I would ever be able to take a decent picture.  I literally tossed my little boy into daycare, pointed at my head and made a circular motion, "I have a thing today", is what I blurted out to his teacher who was no doubt confused since most of the time I show up in sweat pants and a pony tail. Luckily I made it on time. Five minutes early. Acceptable.

Fortunately, Tom is a sweetheart and one of the nicest people in the world. I came in like a whirlwind and muttered something about having a three year old assistant and being flustered and my hair was bumpy or something like that. Considering the way the day started, I'm very happy with how the pictures turned out. And I found out that I like being in pictures, making pictures, as an experiment or art project or what have you but I'll get more into that in a later post.

I managed to get home in time to take the dog for a quick walk and throw on my T and sweatpants before picking my son up from daycare. I figured I owed an apology or explanation at least for the morning but decided that "I have a thing today" was all that needed to be said. While buckling the car seat, he grabbed my hand and with big blue eyes said "Mommy, you have lady hands. You have hands like the other ladies" referring to my bright red fingernails. I never wear nail polish--ever. How or when my son became aware of "lady hands" I'm not sure; however, after the initial discovery his eyes welled up with tears "Mommy, I don't like those lady hands. Take them off they frustrate me.. I just like plain". I couldn't get him to articulate why he was so put off by it and maybe he didn't know why either. It's what I will remember most about the entire day.

The photos in this post are two of the pictures Tom created and are two of my favorites. I have a few of them on my Facebook page but I think I'm going to try my hand at creating a Flickr account. I have yet to delve much into the world of Flickr other than to snoop at pictures people post of their tattoos--a late night hobby of mine.

Anyhow, I have a lot in my mind that I would like to write here if I can just do a better job of organizing my head and my time. Thank you for reading, as always I appreciate the support.