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| Girls Will Be Girls, Gouache and Digital Print on Paper |
Are you ladies ready to talk some art and some life skills?
Do you have your practical, yet cool black dress on? Do you have a glass of not
quite the cheapest wine in your right hand?
It took me a long time to accept that I am a girl. Sure, I
was once a girl, but I left that behind to become a woman, a lady, a mom, a
wife, female, gynecological. a bitch and an artist. I forgot about my dolls and
my rainbows. I set aside my hearts and my lips. I grew up. My dolls went to
live with other girls whose time had not yet come, Some dolls went on to sell
themselves at garage sales and thrift stores. A used doll comes cheap. Played
with already, what use do they have? A virgin doll in a box, now that has
value. One day while cleaning the
basement, I was talking to one of my old dolls found lost and forgotten under a
bunch of musty blankets. I asked her why she looked so sad and tired. She said
that I had forgotten what it had been like to be a girl. She told me that I was
not proud to be a girl. Sure, she said. You went on to go to college. You went
on to get married. You went on to have children. You went on to have a career.
But, you forgot to stay a girl. I smoothed her frizzled hair and said. I can't
be a girl. If I'm a girl no one will take me seriously. Girl stuff is just baby
stuff. It's like a diaper, disposable and full of shit. The doll blinked her pretty
blue eyes and frowned. See what I mean, you don't respect the girl. You
consider the life of a girl disposable. She isn't worth anything until she
throws away all the things that make being a girl important. That why I started
this blog. How did you start a blog, your just a doll and have been stuck down
here in this cardboard box for years. Anyone can start a blog.
