out of the closet
moving away from a destructive left wing politic, and into something different
A new Instagram notification.
“I’m coming to your city soon,” it reads (I’m paraphrasing). “I’d love to collaborate!”
I pause.
“I would absolutely love to,” I write back. “But I don’t want to hurt your brand.”
I am so glad that this lovely human, a blast from my past as a leftie queer activisty type, understands. In reality, my heart sinks that I even have to send this kind of message, have to say no to something I actually do want to do, something that would enrich my spirit and soul and inner fire, because of the current divisive climate where I live. I’m saying no, out of respect for this lovely human’s own good. Thankfully, they are super kewl about it, and we rendezvous anyway, away from public collaboration. It feels good, fun, fresh to talk.
I remember when it wasn’t this way. When I could collaborate with whoever, without much thought of anything other than if I liked them, if I thought they were a good person, and if I liked their art or creative output or whatever it was that they did. I remember when it was easier to focus just on fun, on connections, on blooming together, cultivating fruit. To be in it for the art, the fire, the community building. I remember a time when we judged people on the quality of their work, yes, but also who they were as a person. Were they kind? Were they authentic?
Nowadays, it seems – rather unfortunately – that we are in an era where none of that really matters.