on anger and the absolutely bonkers world we live in!
A weird thirst trap just appeared on Instagram with a guy tagging himself as being in “Israel. Someone in the comments brought up Palestine and stolen land. And someone else—a reply guy—said this was “no place for that type of comment.” If vapid thirst traps aren’t the place to discuss apartheid, where can free speech live?
A rich person with a lot of clout who is connected to me somehow blah blah blah recently suggested that people in Brooklyn don’t have money and that I should find ways to connect with more queer hedge-funders. “Financial advisors say now is not the time to give your money away.” My blood pressure? Oh it’s up, babes.
I am thinking a lot about power—the reality of it, its illusion, who clings to it, who forgets they have it, who thinks they have it until they get too close to those who really do. And I am thinking about class, again; money, who has it, who thinks they don’t, who knows they do and tries to seem like they don’t, who has it and thinks they are somehow a “not-like-other-rich-people” rich person, who has it and still fails to see that they have it simply because they are not billionaires and because they do not truly know anyone who doesn’t have it.
I am angry. I like to thinks it's because it's Aries Season. Because it's cool to imagine some configuration of planets and stars being responsible for the physiological responses I am having to existing in a society that is—excuse my language—absolutely wackadoodle. It is bonkers. It is zany at best, truly nutso at worst. And I sometimes worry that my head is going to rip off thinking too hard about it.
I am tired. I sometimes don’t know how to gauge what is working too much, thinking too much, planning, arranging, making too much. I think a lot about value and I write a lot about taking time with things. But lately I feel a pressure to get “it” done, and in that pressure I find myself immobile, and in that immobility I exhaust myself on my imaginary thought tirades against the powers that be.
I cried on the train home because of the anger. And a part of me felt really beautiful, because being sensitive it beautiful. But also, crying can be dumb! The politics around class and money are dumb! Money is such a delicate and uncomfortable thing. I recently did another poll on Instagram asking people if they were artists with a day job. Many said yes. Many said yes to being artists without a day job. Many of those without a day job claimed to grow up in a household that made over $100k. I am not a sociologist, but it makes you think!
And I think: wow, what if I could just… make things all the time and not have to worry about making money? Like what if??? What would it look like to be valued in the Art World the way the Art World values things? And I am immediately quite relieved that I am not deep in those Art World trenches. Some truly vile things I have heard lately, seen lately, and read lately have been from people deep in those trenches. And yet, I still cried on the train thinking about it.
I think what frustrates me is the parallels between the optics of the Art World and the optics of “I grew up comfortable, not rich”/“I am not the 1% so I can’t be rich”/“I am uncomfortable talking about class because I am in a position of power within a class structure that is truly bonkers,” Art is something that is touted as transformative, impactful, for the benefit of society, but the business of how it thrives in the world is pretty transparently just a way to maintain power, to make money for a select few, and to keep out those deemed unworthy by those maintaining power. And wealth—the access to things and people and places, the comforts, the time, the leisure, the facial modifications and second homes and parents you are not worried about dying early because they never had the nice healthcare—is an act, a facade of politeness to stave off the discomfort those with resources feel about wha the nice things they own and do are costing the rest of the world. There is something about niceties and decorum and gatekeeping that is so fucking bananas.
And, of course, the Art World—who it values, who it lets in, shows, shares; who can afford to be the gatekeeper; who has inherited what, has clout where—is what so many people strive to be a part of, much like they strive for wealth.
Anyway, let’s look at this picture of a cat in a cardboard airplane for a second to remember what is good and true and just.
I am not a shining example of the world I would like to live in. And that’s okay. I still try my best and cry on the train thinking about what is possible. And that is one of the most hopeful things I have thought in a while. And it makes me want to try for something else, in sometimes small but always consistent ways.
This is not how it has to be. And I wish we could all have more conversations about it, while buying more of our friends lunch because we have a little more right now, while we maintain our networks and communities and take stock of how much we’re giving and taking, while we commit to monthly gifts to people and things that we care about and trust, that we support artists and thinkers and makers who aren’t within the white walls of nepotism and inheritance with just as much enthusiasm, that we question what we value, that we tell Shawn they are pretty, all the time (jk! Unless!!!!!).
As alway, thanks for reading. This has been a place for me to not be perfect while trying to articulate pretty complex things! I appreciate your feedback and time. Truly xx
Upcoming stuff and other things:
Dusty Shoulder’s Campfire Queer Storytime:
I’m sooooo honored and excited to be sharing a little story for this lovely human on April 4, 7:30 at Branded Saloon in povo no money Brooklyn. The line-up is really rad. It’s free!
Brooklyn Botanic Garden Performance Artist In Residence
The theme for the 2023 residency is Power of Trees, drawing inspiration from trees in our collections, tree care and caretakers, and the symbolism of trees as a place of gathering, shelter, and culture.
One artist will be selected for a residency in 2023. During the residency, the artist will spend time creating work in and inspired by the Garden. They will host one or two public classes, seminars, or activities, then showcase their final work in September 2023. Due 4/15