Wonder Woman: Separating the Artist From the Art

Gratitudes:

1. Thunderstorms, which would be infinitely more enjoyable if Velcro Dog wasn't freaked out by them.
2. Writing "The End" at, well, the end.
3. Friends who believe in you enough to carry that belief for you when you don't believe in yourself.

Edited on 6/15/2017:
A reader passed on two more articles that may counterbalance the Salon article linked to at the bottom of my blog post. 

• Natalie Portman's Zionist Manifesto
• Censorship in Lebanon

I also encourage you to read her reply to this blog post as it offers some excellent points regarding why there is a rise of banning films containing Jewish content, the impacts of censorship, and the rise of antisemitism . While my post isn't about Wonder Woman, censorship, or Zionism, they were my jumping off point, perhaps the wrong jumping off point. Yes, we need to make space for people to experience something differently than we do, but we do not make space for hate. And we, I, need to educate ourselves on the issues we use as jumping off points or main thesis in our opinion pieces. This was absent from my original post, for which I apologize. 

This weekend I saw Wonder Woman. The movie was wonderful. The action was spot on. The sacrifices made sense. The women were bad ass. And Diana Prince is front and center. As she should be since this movie is her origin story. 

I know there has been at least one other superhero movie which featured a female superhero (Elektra for those who are wondering), but Wonder Woman is a female superhero icon and watching this movie made much younger me so very happy. I grew up watching Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman fighting crime on a weekly basis. I wanted to be Diana Prince. Even made myself bracelets and a diadem out of tin foil. This movie was important. It was long past due. 

I know people who did not love the movie. Some because of the pacing. Others because it changed Diana's origin story. Still others for a myriad of other stylistic reasons. There are those people who, however, disliked the movie because of the lead actress. Gal Gadot is an Israeli actress. This is why the movie to be boycotted and banned in Lebanon and other countries. Gal Gadot is also seen as a Zionist, in part because she openly supported the Israeli attacks on Gaza in 2010. Some people look at Ms. Gadot and see these things and can't see past them to Diana Prince and Wonder Woman.

This post is not to debate Gal Gadot, Israel, or Zionism. It's not to debate intersectional feminism. It's not even to debate the movie itself. No, this post is my attempt to answer this question: Can we separate the artist from the art? 

The answer is both yes and no. Yes, art can stand alone and speak to us as itself.  No, because sometimes the artist has imbued so much of themself into their art that a person may not be able to view the art without overlaying the artists upon it. In other words, it's personal. 

Why do we forgive certain celebrities for the pain and suffering they cause, but hold others in contempt forever? Maybe it's because some actions don't hit us where we live, while others eviscerate us, even if we weren't the target. Beliefs matter. Actions matter. And when we feel we are being ignored, attacked, gutted by the actions of someone we don't know, maybe that's because those actions trigger something deep within us. 

Example time. These are from my real life, and while none of these examples are the political and ethical tripwires that are being discussed thanks to the lead actress in Wonder Woman, they both have left long term scars upon me. 

I once knew a romance author who wrote some amazing stories. She was a bit of a pioneer with sex positivity back in the 90s. I got to know her online and we had some wonderful discussions. She started a web board, as was what authors often did in those days before Facebook and Twitter, and asked me to help moderate it. I was happy to. I loved her books. My interactions with her had been positive and informative. I wanted her social media presence to succeed. Until the day she threw a friend of mine under the bus in a very public and humiliating manner. 

I cut ties with said author and her board. I couldn't support this brand of bullying (which is what it was). I haven't read a single book of hers since. Not because she's a horrible storyteller. Her books were beautifully written. But when I tried to read her beautiful stories, my stomach would clench and I would be thrown back to that day when she humiliated my friend. I couldn't separate the writer from her books. I still can't. 

On the flip side, I am a fan of another author who also writes beautifully and I love her books. I had the chance to meet her at a conference. I happened to be in one of the public bathrooms when I overheard her complain about some of her fellow authors. It wasn't her best moment, and I left the bathroom feeling less sanguine about her as a person. I still enjoy her books, though I don't care if I ever meet her in person again and I'm less likely to recommend her books to others. 

I've thought about why I feel so differently about these two authors. They both said hurtful things in a public forum (public bathrooms are public after all). They both write wonderful books. Why am I still able to appreciate the books of one and not the other? My opinion, it's because the Author A did something that hurt me personally. You mess with my friend, you mess with me. You don't apologize for hurting my friend, that hurts me as well. Author B was cutting in her words, but while she presented herself poorly, she didn't hurt me or mine.

Can we separate the artist from the art enough to enjoy the art as something that stands on it's own? Yes and no. It all depends on what triggers you deeply and personally. If the artist, actor, author, celebrity does something that affects you so deeply you can't help but think of that every time you come across said artist/actor/author/celebrity, then it's not very likely that you'll be able to set aside your distaste long enough to enjoy the art that individual produced. 

And because it is so very personal, I think we need to create room for people to both love and hate the art while they love or hate the artist. And we need to listen when someone shares a view that is not our own. If someone feels strongly that Wonder Woman is not the feminist win for all women, we should listen to understand why. If someone boycotts the movie because of their perception of said actress' political leanings, then we need to create space for that. Even if we don't agree with the boycott or the reasons behind it. 

I leave you with this final article regarding Wonder Woman, a thoughtful opinion piece about the potential implications of the movie: The confused, confusing nationalism behind “Wonder Woman”

Birthday Postmortem

 Gratitudes:

1. The intrepid Mercy Thompson and her fictional world. She along with all her fictional compatriots have saved my sanity more times than I care to count. 
2. Instacart. Thanks for saving my bacon over and over again!
3. CPAs who know far more about the tax codes than I. 

While my birthday was a wonderful day, during the evening it was clear Hubs was not feeling well. And when he doesn't feel well, which is never, it means he's going to be down for some serious get well time. The remainder of the week was very low key. Hubs was sleeping and being generally sick grumpy. And I was doing fine. Until I got sick.

It was two and a half weeks of sick adults in our house. I'm sure at one point Velcro Dog packed his bags and wished for opposable thumbs so he could open the door and hitch a ride to somewhere not here.

Then there was tax crap. We sold some investments last year but the broker didn't include purchase dates or prices on the 1099-INV so I had to dig through 13 years or statements to try to find the info and put it in a format the accountant could use. Good. Lord.

Still, I had a good birthday. We saw the movie of my choice once both of us were feeling better (13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi). We went out for the dinner of my choosing the following weekend (Pizza Lucé for salmon instead of pizza). I spent birthday money on some books so I could have the series in epub format, even though I already own most of it in paper. Yes, I'm that girl. And proud of it.

One of my birthday gifts was the gift of a clean house. My friend came over and assisted me as I got down and dirty with the home office. While there is still work to be done, surfaces are clean and a metric ton of paper was escorted off the premises. Then she paid for the crew who cleans her home to come and clean mine. I had to do some heavy lifting with removing the clutter, and getting over the fact that someone who didn't know me would be in my home cleaning. Something I SHOULD be able to do, but don't have the energy or sometimes the pain tolerance to do.



So this week I cleared surfaces of paper and books and stuff. And this morning Hector and his crew of wonder workers came and cleaned the loft and main floor of my house. I wanted to kiss them all and cry tears of relieved joy. My house. She is clean! Sure, I need to clean a few things they missed because, honestly, who cleans the underside of chairs, or pulls off books to dust shelves, or pulls out someone else's drawers to eliminate the dog fur resting beneath? No one. But these small things are doable.

Excuse me while I go roll around on the floor for a little while. It's clean right now, so I'm going to enjoy it while I can. 

Let it Snow!

 Gratitudes:

1. Hubs took the week off and I'm very glad he did. We've had some great quality time together and he was home to shovel the snow this morning so I didn't have to.
2. My friend's children. They are made of awesome and make me smile.
3. Flowers. They brighten up a room even on the darkest winter's day.

I'm not going to look at when I last posted. I know it's been a while. I haven't had the best of winters so far but thanks to some new herbal therapies, the quality of my sleep may be getting better. Whoop!

It's definitely winter. Snow came last night in large fluffy flakes, which looked beautiful in the headlights as we came home from watching Spectre at a local theater. But didn't look so beautiful as they piled up in the driveway, requiring both the snowblower AND the shovel. Hubs did not ask me to assist in the snow removal, for which I am eternally grateful. The fibro is bad enough right now. Shoveling would push me into a catatonic state.

This afternoon as I ran errands so we would have kid friendly food for tomorrow (my friend's daughters are having a sleepover at our house), the streets were mostly cleared and traffic was light. The picture below was taken on a side street as I was making my way to Starbucks for a much needed green tea latte. 

Christmas day may have been a snowless yet frigid sea of green, but 2016 looks like it will be fluffy and white. As long as it continues to snow when it's convenient for Hubs to take care of the driveway, I'm good. 

Windows, ABBA , And Me

 Gratitudes:

1. The rain held off long enough yesterday that we were able to stain two of the four windows that have needed staining for a few years. 
2. Gluten free gourmet pizza.
3. ABBA, which is music to stain by and the foundational music for one of the kitschiest and heart-warming movies I own. Pierce Brosnan's singing notwithstanding. 

We have these wonderful windows we purchased as part of the renovation project. They have real wood inside and look fabulous. The downside. We didn't have the wood factory finished because we didn't know what the final product should look like. Would we paint the wood? Stain it? It was completely undecided. 

A few years ago, about two after the windows were purchased and installed, we decided stain it would be. But the years passed and staining was not completed. One year it was because we were forced by the city inspector to replace the deck and that took up the nice summer/early autumn days. Last year it was because my father-in-law died and all spare time was spent getting his house market ready. 

This year, we got two windows completed and if the rest remain unstained until spring, so be it. Hubs let me pick the soundtrack. He was hesitant because I've been listening to Katy Perry, ZZ Ward or P!ink a lot lately (don't ask...I have no idea why these three get stuck on play either), but for staining I went with trusty and true: ABBA. 

I grew up in a conservative home where I was allowed to listen to Christian music, classical, The Carpenters, Anne Murray, and ABBA. Oh, the days of Dancing Queen and Take a Chance on Me.  I remember when Super Trouper came out. I begged and pleaded my parents to take me to the record store where I purchased the album on vinyl and copied it to tape right away. I spent many, many hours listening to Voulez Vous, Waterloo and Super Trouper via headphones. Ah, ABBA. You saved a conservative small town girl from a fate worse than death. Okay, I exaggerate, but I am forever thankful my parents either didn't get the innuendo or didn't think I would. :) 

While putting on the final coats of poly, I dug out my copy of Mamma Mia! and watched it on the computer. The musical was amazing. Hubs even got into it when we went as an anniversary gift when the Broadway traveling cast made their way to town. He wouldn't see the movie with me, but that was okay. I wanted to enjoy it by myself. Just me and half a theater full of other fans during a weekday matinee. Pierce, I love you, but you can't sing worth spit. Everyone else was amazing. And the songs, oh the songs! Flashbacks to childhood days singing along to ABBA records filtered through my brain. 

ABBA, you make everything more enjoyable! 

Why Nathan Fillion Rocks

It's no secret, I have a huge crush on fellow Canadian and amazing actor, Nathan Fillion. I first saw him on One Life To Live and followed his career from the get go. I adored Firefly. I loved his guest spot on Buffy. I even thought Two Guys and A Girl was cute. I cheered him on in the short lived Drive. And I was thrilled to death when ABC announced he would be staring in their new dramady. Seriously, the world is a better place because of Nathan Fillion.

One of the many reasons Nathan Fillion rocks is because of his rapport with his fans. He Tweets some of the most amusing things and even though I'm sure he would rather never be asked about Firefly ever again, he tosses in some nods to his fans. Like this week's episode of Castle. In about the 6th minute of the program, people are entering an apartment and donning those blue latex gloves to keep the crime scene safe from additional finger prints. After his gloves are donned he flashes two peace signs. But wait, those aren't really peace signs. No, he's miming a line from Firefly that any fan should know - two by two, hands of blue. Don't believe me, check out his Twitter.

Brilliant! And yet another reason why I love Nathan Fillion. If I weren't happily married I might try to hunt him down and beg to have his babies. Thankfully, I am happily married so I can save myself that embarrassing stalkerish conversation. Phew!

Nathan, as long as you keep doing that wonderful thing you do the world is a much, much better place. Of course, as a Canadian, you already know that, don't you? Yeah, Canadians are cool like that.

Pixar Vs. Dreamworks

I have a bias. I love Pixar! I think they are highly creative and do amazing things with that creativity. Dreamworks, not so much. My opinion, people. But it's shared by others as I found here.

For your Tuesday entertainment, whether you agree with this opinion or not, I brign you Pixar Vs. Dreamworks. Click on the picture to enjoy. I couldn't figure out how to make it big enough to read in my little blog. *grin*

Thank You For the Music, The Songs I'm Singing

I love ABBA. I mean, I really love ABBA. I saw ABBA - The Movie. I owned several of their records. Okay, I was really young when all this occurred, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I loved, and love, ABBA.

I've seen Mamma Mia! every time it's come to my city on tour. I saw it once in NYC. Naturally, I had to see the movie. I waited for the chaos of opening weekend to pass and on my half day off from the day job, I went to a matinée. And I'm glad I did because I have got to see this movie again! And paying matinee prices means I can afford to actually go again. And go I will! I see a girls night in my not so distant future - a night of music, eye-candy, belly laughs, and maybe a tear or two. Ah, the fun!

If you haven't seen this delight of a movie, well, why the heck havne't you? Embrace your inner dancing queen and go for it! You know you want to.

Things To Do When You Turn 37

My birthday was on the 14th. I turned 37. Most of my friends stay 35 forever. Not me. I embrace getting older.

Of course, I don't feel older. As evidenced by my choice of birthday movie. Every year the Man takes me out to dinner and a movie. This year we're trying to cut back on spending so we skipped dinner out and saw a movie instead. There are a lot of good movies out this time of year. And I could have picked any number of moving or comedic movies to see. What did I pick?

Horton Hears a Who.

This was my favorite Dr. Seuss book growing up. I loved Horton and his heroic journey to save the Whos of Whoville who happen to live on a speck that's landed on a clover. I loved the Sour Kangaroo, the Whos in Whoville. I even loved the Wishersham Brothers. So, when I found out that Fox was making a movie and that it was opening on my birthday, well I had to be there.

And I'm so glad I was. It was wonderful fun. Great animation. Wonderful music. Great nostalgic fun. And after the movie, I went to www.hortonmovie.com and adopted a Who. It was the best birthday ever.

I hope, when you turn 37, or whatever age your turning on your next birthday, you grab yourself some whimsy and see a movie full of childish enthusiasm and wonder. It's totally worth it.