Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Grow the Love Summer

Summer Solstice through my 40s was a party in my backyard. It was a pool party with the Gigantic Pool and No Yard. At my home in my 50s, it was in the Gigantic Yard with No Pool: one year there were 150 who celebrated the longest day. Next year 8. That's life. I switched to a Winter Solstice dinner and those 8 were the women who stayed with me. Summer Solstice this year in my mid-60s found us in a new house, my youngest sister undergoing back surgery, my beloved neighbor falling and now confused in a rehab center, my father wondering if this is actually the end of the repairs in the new house. Here's what's great: Directed by Women, my sister's speedy recovery and my father's adjustment to his new teeth and home, my brother's smile in his new room. It's Grow the Love Summer. I've claimed it as what life is about for decades, and it is this summer. I love movies, talking about, whinging, blogging, watching. Don't let my sister know, but part of being at the hospital at dawn was to sit with her husband and talk about movies. He's a geek. Bigger geek than me, which is going deep into film love. Mention a movie, he can name the composer, the cinematographer, the production designer and location trivia. This summer I'm about directors. Women directors. This piece of art was created to accompany whinges about the lack of women in film in all areas. This summer we'll talk about bounty. DirectedbyWomen has links to 6,815 women directors...and counting. And in September we'll be watching their movies in a global viewing party that begins September 1-15 and will never end. Never. So it's not only the Summer of Love. It's The Endless Summer.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Space Babe

Space Babe roams the galaxy obliterating outdated gender portrayals in speculative fiction. Proceeds from the sale of the temporary tattoos I got in the art room at WisCon39 go to the James Tiptree, Jr. Award. I donated my earnings from the essay published in the WisCon39 program back to Tiptree, too. A squishy goal (gelatin-like because I don't know how to commit well to it) is to have some more scifi finished and in the world by WisCon40. We're in the new condo, and I left for Madison with boxes unpacked and a cluttered mind. Feel upended, like Space Babe here. Without the ray gun or helmet.