The inauguration day was greeted with anxiety and fears by many of my friends and acquaintances. Even those I know back in my country had expressed concern over the state of affairs. Closer to where I live now, my friends here, who had voted for Hilary, went to the protest marches. Further away, on the other coast, for Sibelius, who had campaigned hard and long for Bernie Sanders, and for many of our mutual friends, this has been difficult to accept. The most worried people seem to be my acquaintances in the GLBT world. I had been reading Huxley over Christmas vacation, and I have been listening to Dvorak’s New World off and on, and I watched the inaugural speech thinking about all of that.
I watch Ivanka Trump’s carefully curated social media channels and speeches. She is America’s New Woman; she has it all – a career, a family, and joy derived from both, while wearing beautiful clothes and shoes. She is happy to be a mommy of three, and a wife and daughter dutiful. Despite the successes she could enjoy in the political or business worlds, she prefers the traditional role of her gender. This is setting a dangerous precedent to young girls, I think. This is telling them that the New American Woman will have opportunities to succeed outside the home, but that her priority in the end is to her family, to be perfect at being a mother and a wife, a daughter and a sister. When the choice is cast from what you want to do for your own sake to what you ought to do in order to be in the right, choice is only an illusion.
I am not generally inclined to comment on politics or celebrities, but I do find myself concerned over where this could lead the next generation of women to.
2017 has been a mixed bag so far for me.
I am glad to be back. I have new art on my walls and I am very pleased by that. I have been trying to be calm and methodical about my decisions.
I read fun books: Andy Warhol’s diaries! Andy Warhol is whiny and insightful, practical and successful, insecure and broken-hearted, likes buying buildings and hawking on the streets. He is a kleptomaniac of sorts, stealing cutlery from the Concorde whenever he can. He is convinced that everyone in New York is gay. He likes his close circle of people, even if he doesn’t really understand them much. He is wrapped up in his head and it is a strange place to be. He sees Iran’s revolution, hears about Lennon’s death from a few blocks away, watches an odd, unnerving presidential election of a film star against a politician. He manages to market piss paintings, and buys many buildings.
I had to fix a tire puncture. I fell hard on a paved road and bruised my knees badly, and my laptop was damaged. I have a burn from accidentally touching the grill of my oven.
I have not made any progress on my grand diet plan. I think I will start on the first of February.
I got rid of a lot of old things that I wasn’t using. So I have more space now. This has been good for me, and has cleared up my mental cobwebs too.
I am planning to go to a gallery tomorrow. I hope the rain won’t close the highway. It has been raining here. It is good to see this state green. Spring, when it comes, will be a beautiful one.