Nikk

I am an INCREDIBLE actress. When it suits me.

But oh how I fall. I have been working for months now with a therapist and self evaluation to try and get past these last seemingly insurmountable hurdles. The irony being all that I have changed about who I am and my life over the last 3 years. You can change or fix just about anything with surgery these days. You can change your entire wardrobe. You can change careers. You can change your hair color, cut and style. You can change jobs and latitudes. You can change your mood with a little help from a friend. And yes you can even change your sex apparently. We are a world fast becoming a planet of designer humans.

But there are two things you cannot change. Your past and your mind. I hear the sound of squealing breaks of disagreement on that last one. I say that out of experience really. So hear me out. We can change the way we feel about a great many things. Education and enlightenment play a big role there. We can OVERCOME, contain or control a great many things in our heads. Just having an open mind and a willingness to change are pivotal in ones ability to modify your thoughts and feelings.

I am struggling. Struggling to change that last bit of me I hate so much. I am afraid to live and free myself of all those fears that hold me back year after year. Those fears that pull me back in to self destructive patterns. The fear that keeps me from living all the dreams I carry with me to protect me from the darkest places of my mind. I feel like a small child that just wants someone to hold my hand. Just long enough to take me across that bridge of fear.

But there is no hand. And all the confidence I can muster seems short lived. I am afraid of people. I meet people and never see or hear from them again or look them in the eyes and feel I am not liked for some reason. Am I too tall, too ugly, too pretty, too weird? I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere. This I have felt all my life. I still feel this way.

See all that self defeating stuff. It leads to being lonely. It leads to self doubt. It is that thing I have never been able to change about my mind. The part of my mind I cannot change despite my best efforts. And I don’t know why or how.

If only I could get past the fears in my mind that keep me from truly being the person I am in my own dreams.

I consider myself an extremely lucky person. Especially considering I am an open and out lesbian in a world that seems so hell bent on not allowing people to live an d be happy. I have a great family who has been there every step of the way since my formal self outing. I have some good frineds and many acquaintances. I have a great job with a really good company. I and I live in a nice little quiet nook in San Francisco.

What more could I want?

A lot more actually. I may be a forty-something goddess in control of her life. But I am also still a teenager at heart more often than I admit. I am fickle and want every freaking thing now. Change happens and I want it over and done with. I sen my eye or my heart on something and I want it started or done yesterday. I know this is not how life works. I cannot keep up the light speed change of pace I often expect in my life.

And this is where the battle begins.

Me fighting myself. Nichole vs. Nikki. It’s tantamount to insanity. The seemingly endless skirmishes with my own sense of self and desire class often sending me off on wildly divergent paths. The unfortunate victim in this constant flux is me. The wounds are often intense depression and even overwhelming anxiety.

Over the past month I have been stuck in a perpetual black hole of depression and questioning everything in my life. I can usually pull myself out of this funk within a few days or even a week tops. Not this time. It was so profound I upped my therapy sessions. Slept way too much and stayed up way too late thinking.

Thinking is my enemy. I have written several poems about my struggle. “My Enemy” being the most recent. I often write as a result of these “moments” of struggle. If I don’t write for more than a week it is not a good sign. It means I am losing the battle. Of all things I have struggled with in my life, depression has been the cruelest of foes. And the one battle where I have never really come out the victor.Though I keep trying.

Giving up is giving in. I have vowed too never give up. I have come to far and accomplished to much to just hand in the keys to my life and let something or someone else drive. Last week just before the Pride festivities I suddenly and inexplicably found myself emerging from the month long battle over depression. This time I really can’t put my finger on how I did it. I am just glad that I did. So here I am back to writing. Back to living. And back to enjoying the feeling of sunshine on my face.

I must admit however today was actually a pleasant day on the cattle run. I was not rushed, well rested and it has been a beautiful day on the ground and in the air. I arrived at SFO with plenty of time to spare for a yogurt and H20 breakfast. As I am NOT the cheep seats type of girl I paid a little extra to get the front of the line ticket. We boarded the roomy and rather comfy 737 and I took widow row 2. I passed on the Vodka and OJ since it was a bit early even for me.

An attractive gentleman took the isle seat leaving the center unoccupied. The staff soon escorted a young girl of about 9ish traveling alone and sat her next to me! This actually made my little maternal clock tick, tick, tick a bit faster. Sadly I do not have kids. I wish I could but the only thing coming out of my belly these days is … well… Not kids. She is a beautiful child. Seriously beautiful. Long golden blond hair, freckles and a tan to die for.

The girl came with a little red sac her mom had packed for her. It was filled with candies, popcorn and other goodies including the cutest pink DVD player I ever saw. We chatted in short sentences until the plane took off. Then we talked more about boys, the little teenie-bopper magazine she pulled out and the cool view from the plane. She had never flown by herself before. But her little brother had become dangerously ill so mom and dad had to send her off to grandmas alone while they stayed behind. I felt for the girl and her parents. I think she said her name was Allison or Alicia? Gawd I suck so bad at names.

Alli pulled out a puzzle book and asked if I would like to help her with it. Heck yeah I did. This little wannabe mother not my daughter experience was worth every precious moment. And she was truly engaging and I was really enjoying the interaction. I guess I am good with kids. And it seems I was doing a good job.

Suddenly her nose started bleeding. I got to hand it to her for quick reflexes. She got a small pool of blood in her hand and only one drop on her leg. I quickly told her to pinch her nose and tilt her head back and at the same moment hit the stewardess call button. She was there in a second.

Now I must digress just a spell. The stewardess was drop dead OMFG gorgeous. She was a dead ringer for a young Meg Ryan. I mean the way she moved, talked, everything. I could not keep my eyes off of her from the moment I got on the plane. So not only were my hormones running my hormones were going haywire. Sadly she had a rock on her finger the size of Nebraska so no amount of I love you via ESP was going to work. Not to mention inappropriate considering the current events and company.

Regress – Back to Alli.

I point out the situation… calmly. Meg hovers back with a box of tissues. I ask her for a cup of water as well so I can help clean Alli up. I wet some tissue and clean the blood off her hands and leg while she gets the bleed under control. After a couple minutes the bleeding stops and poor Alli has blood all over her chin and face. I wet another tissue and clean her up proper. Know way I’m gonna let that young girl walk around with blood all over her face.

Did I mention all this was happening as we were landing? Well it did. The funny thing and I guess the wonderful thing for me was the smile and the thank you I got from Alli for helping her. The little twinkle in her eyes about killed me dead on the spot. And as I reflect on the incident I remember how utterly calm and collected I was. It was s surreal experience in a way. I mean it was like she was my own child for those few moments and I only wanted to help her and make sure she was O.K.

We landed about 3 minutes later.

I was kind of sad to get off the plane. Alli was flying off to Missouri to see grandma and Phoenix was my stop. A really quick goodbye and the last vision of Alli was of her hopping into the window seat I had been sitting in.

It may seem odd to some who read this. But I miss Alli already. I hope she has a wonderful time at grandma’s and a beautiful life.

Portrait of Robin. Pencil on paper. A very beautiful young woman I have had the pleasure to meet. The interesting thing about this pic aside from the subject is what happened when I went in to clean up the photograph made from my phone. Notice the subtle colors and texture of the paper. Serendipitous Photoshopage to be sure.

This is my third “serious” drawing in a month. I have always been drawn to faces. Woman’s faces to be honest. There was always a reason for that. I usually end up drawing women I find amazingly beautiful and of course girl crushes. The magical essence of a women has captivated me my entire life. SO I draw what I like and love.

What better form of self expression than to draw your dreams. In art school I took a couple years of figure drawing. The body is easy. Hands and feet are always hard to capture without mangling the perception. Faces are in fact the hardest thing to draw. And yes I am going to tell you why.

Our brains are essentially very powerful facial recognition systems. When it comes to subtle, yet significant details no computer can match what the human brain can see in the human face. Our face is the most significant part of our identity between Homo Sapiens. Expressions change in very subtle to very dramatic ways. My computer (brain) is tuned to picking out the softer curves and subtle beauty in women. To this day I am never fully satisfied with what I have drawn. I can immediately see the mistakes when the subject or a picture is available to do a comparison.

Eyes too high or too low in the skull. Lips to hard edged. Nose wrong shape. The list of FAIL goes on. But what is more important is that it is not necessarily the intent to make a perfect copy of the subject. So yes her eyes may be a 32nth of an inch to far apart. Our brains will see this almost immediately if we are familiar with the subject. The work of art is flawed in the very first stroke of the pencil.

Or is it?

As an artist my intent is to capture the beauty of the person or subject. While some artists pride themselves on their amazing technical ability to capture a near photographic duplication of their subject. Realists. I am more than happy to make subtle and often accidental changes. This is interpretation. Sometimes it pays to enhance a feature. I love the eyes so I always make them bigger than reality.

When I complete a drawing to my own satisfaction I have put to paper my own vision of the world passed through my eyes, post processed by my brain and executed by my own hands. Every point of interaction is a point of failure or a point of immeasurable success in creating a work of art that is uniquely mine and mine alone.

I love this artist’s simple yet elegant watercolors.

She is painting one a day and selling them on Etsy for a very reasonable price. Basically she is using a simple production technique to generate revenue. How do I know that. Because I an going to buy a series or them for my bedroom.

Persimmony Drops ACEO by Squier on Etsy.

Laying there almost motionless she waits. Breathing gently, delicately along the depth of her lover’s neck. Just below and slightly behind her ear. Her lover quivers at the soft brushes of warm breath. She takes in slow deep breaths from her lover’s body. The scent is intoxicating. Her eyes close as she takes in the sweet, warm fragrance. A rush flows over her body as she takes breath after breath of her lover.  Together they flow within each other only aware of the other. Safe in loving embrace.

Sorry guys this is not for you. I realize men do love women as women do men. And that is all very beautiful too. But there is no comparison for what a woman can share with another woman. Our sense of smell and touch, power of emotion and depth of passion. It is beyond magical.

I sensed this from a very early age. I have never been promiscuous or even that adventurous in reality. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was circumstance, But I always noticed. I always felt it. I remember my first girlfriend well. She would leave her scent on my cloths, the notes she left me and in my mind. I could remember every detail of her and later girlfriends by remembering that fragrance. The way a woman’s skin  smells. Fresh from the shower, after a light workout, while she is making love. It is so very intoxication.

No perfumes or man-made scents can compare. There are many wonderful perfumes that enhance a woman’s unique scent. But too much and the effect is lost. I love, Adore and Desire women. I always have. I know more than ever that will never change. I am proud to be an out open lesbian.  My life has been blessed by some amazing women as frineds and lovers. Even now I cannot help but study a beautiful woman as she walks by. Not out of lust but out of sheer artistic appreciation. The female form is the most amazing thing to behold. There is beauty in all women.

The way she walks. The way she smiles, laughs, loves and cries. The way she brushes the hair from her face on a windy day. The way she turns and smiles at a passing friend. The way she lights up a room. The way she holds her infant child as she breast feeds. I admit to being an admirer of the superficial. But I love what is inside just as deep. I cannot help what I like. What I adore. None of us can. It is the way we are born. I was born to love and cherish women. And I respectfully do so with great pleasure every day.

Every once in a while that amazing scent is lifted in to the air. When you realize it on the street, in a shop or anywhere…. OMG the memories and the warmth… the desire.

I know many women are horrified at the thought of another women finding her attractive. But you should not be. I do not want to be with every woman I see or meet. Not all women are attractive in that way to me. And so it is for anyone. But there is still this undeniable beauty non-the-less. More often than not I simply enjoy the gift of admiring her beauty. I notice women. I love fashion. I can watch other women for hours on end simply enjoying how each moves or the simple silhouette in the sunlight. I capture women in my mind for inspiration. I only hope I can express my fondness for women in a meaningful and beautiful way in my art and writing.

To all women – thank you for being you. You are beautiful.

A Friend - K.T.

I started drawing again a couple weeks ago after about a 15 year hiatus from drawing. Yeah a few stupid sketches here and there but not really trying. I spent 7 years in Art School that my daddy paid for. Why 7 years? Well to be totally honest my daddy paid for me to get really high for about 4.5 of those years and I was in a 5 year design program. I switched majors to ceramics which I adore in the 5th year. I had had enough of my asshole design teachers. they did not like me and I did not like them either. One of them I did anyway.

So yes I have told dad I was a stoner. I am not proud of it. I don’t regret ever trying drugs. Everyone should get really stoned at least once in their life. I do regret how I wasted so much of my dads hard earned money on pot and an extra 2 years in school. And I do regret not sticking with my art for so long. I had been previously distracted by life’s little curve balls. Well a big one but we will leave it at that.

So back to my art. I was a graphic design and advertising geek. I think I have mentioned that before. I realized a couple years after graduating how much I hated advertising. I got out of are pretty much all together not long after that.

Now I find myself longing to re-ignite the fire that kept me going for so long. Art. I love drawing portraits. I am fascinated by faces. Especially women. I am never going to quit my art again. I love to draw, write and play my guitars. I just need to find a way to make a living at it.

In critique: This is not a stellar drawing. It’s practice. I draw my friends from pictures. The picture was at an angle to start with but still her nose is too long. Cheeks a little to big and her mouth is off. In reality Kim is a beautiful woman I adore. I have never actually met her in real life. I really hope I do some day. She has a heart of gold. I find her striking. Long shiny dark hair and beautiful eyes to match her positive attitude.

Kim if you ever read this I promise I will do better next time.

Lesbian Love ep 112 Gender Identity from lacey stone on Vimeo.

This is really a great video for a several reasons. As a femme lesbian I find it frustrating and a challenge at times that people automatically assume I a straight. I don’t fit the stereotypes. I like to be a tomboy some days. I like to be very feminine on other days. It just depends on my mood and if I have not done laundry in a week. I am an amazon, tall and strong but gentle when I want to be. I like motorcycles and fast cars. I also love to get all dressed up in heels and a slinky dress and be pampered at the spa.

Stereotypes really do more harm than good in the entire LGBT community. Gender identity is especially difficult because our society has done everything possible to enforce a gender binary. The rules are changing but in general you are either a boy or a girl and there can be no middle ground. I think this not only applies to the transgender community and the struggles they face, but it also greatly affects the gay and lesbian community just as harshly.

Gender and gender identity is very fluid. And sexuality has nothing to do with your gender identity. The stereotypical butch lesbian fitting in all the male roles. They hyper-femme gay man fitting in to more female stereotypes. Throw in the transsexual male or female and you quickly see all these gender and sexual stereotypes vaporize. Yes a more femme woman can be a lesbian. And they do “fit” into society more because you cannot look at her and say oh she is a lesbian. She is not testing the boundaries of typically conservative society and the stereotypes we have all been taught all our lives as she appears to fit a certain gender binary.

The underlying point your video makes on purpose or not is that many of the stereotypical ideas society has tried to enforce about gender, being masculine or feminine are simply not valid. they are not valid in nature so why should humankind be exempt? There is a spectrum of being masculine or feminine that goes way beyond what society has taught us in the past.  Men do like sports and fast cars and drinking beer with their buds. So do women. This dose not make them gay. And Men love fashion and art and pretty things. But this does not make them gay. A transsexual woman may be very femme and pass through society unquestioned. But this does not mean she likes men. The same is true for TransMen. Stereotypes just do not fit in the LGBT community and in the rest of society to many degrees.

We are all beautifully unique and it is OK to be different. It is OK to live outside the box. Yeah that little tiny colorless box that some people try to fit all of humanity into. You know the one where there is only man and woman and they can only love each other and act like a man or a woman and only do the things that a man or a woman “should” do. It’s all so preposterous.

I live outside that box in a life of full color. And I am very happy to do so. Exploring and evolving your gender or even sexual identity is natural. It is a good and healthy thing. As we mature we hold on to bits a pieces of what we learn and like about being male or female or any number of infinite pieces of both. It is what makes us who we are and makes us such amazing creatures.