Wrong email address or username
Wrong email address or username
Incorrect verification code
back to top
Search tags: the-world-we-all-inhabit
Load new posts () and activity
Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2018-02-12 18:47
No safe spaces
The Mountain Artisans Quilting Book - Alfred Allan Lewis

Commentary, but not a review.  Maybe later.


I purchased my copy of this book at a Friends of the Library sale years and years ago. The price was $1.00.


Yesterday my artists' group held a show at a local restaurant.  Outdoors, in a lovely but very dusty setting where the set-up and take-down is incredibly awkward and difficult and frustrating. 




The weather was perfect, and we had a lively, steady crowd.  Overall, the event was financially rewarding enough for me not to complain too much, other than to say I was completely exhausted by the time it was over and very glad I have no more similar shows until next fall.  Yippee! 


I'll spend most of today unloading the car, washing table covers, and getting ready for our Spring Fling Studio Tour in April.  At least will take place here at my own house.  I can set up over a period of several days and do the same when it's over, rather than having to do everything in a single day.


Most of the customers at these events are wonderful.  They come into our little booths genuinely appreciative of what we do, whether we are "artists" or mere "crafters."  (That distinction is a subject for another post!)  Sometimes they try to bargain on prices, but it's up to the individual vendor whether to go along with it or not.  I personally don't, and most of the time the customers understand.


The few annoying customers come in a variety of techniques.  Some want you to tell them exactly how you do your creative thing, as though they will be able to absorb years of study and practice and failure in a few minutes, then go home and replicate your work.  They can completely monopolize your time, while other customers go unaddressed.  Others want to tell you all about their own art, or their grandmother's.  We even have a few who try to sell their work to us, or who want to know how to get into our shows, or . . . a dozen different ways.


Fortunately, these nuisances are few and far between.  Most of them are easily dispatched, too, with a few pointed words or even a laughing brush off.


Yesterday, however, I had one who was less easily brushed off.  And he was actually more frightening than almost any I've ever encountered before in over 40 years of doing art and craft shows.


He started by complimenting me on my work, saying it was really beautiful.  I thanked him, and said, as I always do, "I have fun with it."


He asked if I did everything myself.  I explained that most of my pieces are made from stones I have gone out into the desert and collected myself, but that I do occasionally buy rough material or slabs at rock shows and estate sales.


He asked if I did all the wire wrapping.  I answered that I did every single bit of it.  I have no helpers.


He was eating a large, crumbly cookie and holding a plastic glass with what looked like iced coffee.  Cookie crumbs were landing on my table covers, and the iced coffee was sloshing enough that I feared he was going to spill it on my jewelry.


At some point in the conversation, some ladies came into the booth.  I greeted them, not just because it's what I do with all potential customers but because I was also trying to subtly hint to the guy with the cookie that this was my place of business and that if he wasn't going to buy something, I had to attend to other people who might.


The ladies didn't buy and soon left.  Did they leave because the guy kept hanging around and blocking their access to part of my merchandise?  I don't know, but since he did keep hanging around and he did block their access, I had to think that might have been at least part of the reason.


After they left, he said again that my jewelry was very beautiful.  Again I thanked him.


And then he said, "And so are you."


I laughed and thanked him again, even though I knew that was the wrong thing to do.  I knew it meant he would stay longer, that he would be encouraged to continue the conversation, that he would think . . . whatever.


But what else was I supposed to do?


Ten or fifteen more minutes passed.  He maintained this kind of conversation no matter how I tried to steer it away.  More customers came in, more customers left.  I began to think they saw me as having a personal conversation with this guy and they were deliberately leaving me alone with him.  More cookie crumbs landed on my table.


He hadn't done anything physical, there were plenty of other artists and customers around that I think they would have come to my aid if he did.  He didn't, and eventually some ladies came in who showed serious interest in a couple of pieces so that I excused myself and turned all my attention to them.  I just literally turned my back on the guy with the cookie. 


Finally, he left.  How long he had been in my booth I'm not sure.  How many potential sales he cost me, maybe none, maybe a lot.  I brushed all the crumbs from my tables and tried to brush off the whole experience.


I thought about saying something to the other artists around me -- all women, by the way -- to see if they had had similar experiences.  I ended up not saying anything, however, because I feared they would laugh and tell me he was just an old guy trying to be nice to me, paying me compliments.  That they would tell me I should be flattered.  That he was harmless.


But this is my place of business, I kept thinking.  I didn't bust my ass to set up this morning because I'm looking for a date.  I'm here to sell stuff, to make a living, to pay my bills and buy my groceries.  I don't have time to humor some old guy with a messy cookie.  And what gives him the right to harass me but I have no right to complain?


An art show obviously isn't the venue to make a scene over some guy trying to hit on me.  But the experience brought home once again how pervasive the harassment is, and how easy it is to brush it off as harmless and inoffensive.


No, sorry, I was highly offended.  Not by the compliments, but by the guy's assumption that he could invade my place of business and take up my time with his compliments and flattery as though he had a right to.  As though I should be so flattered that I would give up the opportunity to make a living in my chosen field in order to make him feel . . . flattered.


No, sorry, guy with the crumbly cookie and sloshing coffee, I was not flattered.


Our art group meets on Wednesday afternoon.  I'm going to bring this up and see what the reaction is.  Anybody wanna bet a nickel I get the "Oh, he was just an old guy trying to be nice!" response.

Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
review 2017-10-11 20:38
What's real . . . and what isn't . . . and I'm not just talking about rape
Real Rape - Susan Estrich

Disclosure:  I make no apologies for being a radical feminist.  Deal with it.  I hold a BA degree from Arizona State University West in women's studies.  Deal with it.  I earned my master's degree in sociology and interdisciplinary studies from ASU-West in 2003.  Deal with it.


Too often, the word "rape" is taken to mean forcible sexual assault by a stranger.  Far more often the act is something very different, and is therefore just assumed to be not rape at all.


One of the undergrad classes I took was titled "Women, Crime, and Justice."  Our instructor was Dr. Marie Griffin, an attractive, petite blonde in her mid 30s.  About half the students in the class were male police and/or parole officers working toward either Administration of Justice degrees or planning to go on to law school.  Only about one-fourth the students were female.


The course covered various aspects of women and the American justice system - women as police officers and judges, women as lawyers,  women as criminals and victims of crime.


At the end of the semester, we had to give the usual presentations, and I chose to do mine on rape:  No means no, and what part of No don't you get?  Because rape is more than just physical force -- as we've seen far too graphically in the latest revelations regarding Harvey Weinstein. 


Women are threatened into "consenting" to sexual activity, and many people think that this means it's not rape.  Threats can involve the threat of physical harm, threats of financial harm such as loss of job or income, threats to children or pets or other loved ones, threats of self-harm.  These threats do not have to be explicitly articulated; they can be implied, especially by circumstances.


After I had given my presentation, one of the police officer students took issue with some of the things I had said.  His argument went something like this:


"So, okay.  If I take a woman out, like to dinner and a show, and I spend a couple hundred bucks on her, don't I have the right to expect something in return?"


The gasp from the rest of the class was clearly audible.


This was in the year 2000.  The guy was a police officer.

Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2016-06-26 20:52



I try to stay away from political comments but I saw this on FB and, yeah, 'nuff said.

Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2016-06-26 20:01


First off, the buffalo have nothing whatever to do with this post, I just like them.


New Booklikers I'm following are invited to rummage through my follow/following pages and find BL-ers of interest to them.


I also started a discussion on cooking/recipes here.

Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2016-01-06 22:26
A Little More Christine Catlin and Someone Else

Today, I can't bring this from my .38 blog so you'll have to go there.

More posts
Your Dashboard view:
Need help?