University of She

  “Stay Happy and Be Positive” that is the the mantra of Houston Artist Carol Simon. Though my exploration of women artists, I've encountered a wide variety of styles. From the sublime to the dark art that looks deliberately like roadkill. But all the art, it seems, presents its own message. If there is a message that Carol Simon that resonates with me it's gratitude. This is most perfectly embodied in her Gratitude Collection which I won't display here for copyright issues, but to describe the art, I would say it is a kaleidoscope of nebulae -- spurts of joy -- calling us to have gratitude in the simple joys of life. Take me, for instance. Right now I am sitting in a bar, sipping wine, with access to the internet. Normally, I would just sit here and stare into the abyss. Maybe mourn the meaningless of life, but gratitude commands me to take advantage of it. There was a time when I had no laptop, no internet, no place to write. And I still wrote. But now, the paralyzing f

Prima Donna by Karen Swan starts with the protagonist speaking to a little brother. The two of them are trying out for the ballet as children. He doesn't think he did too well, because he couldn't "turn [his] feet the right way". Sophie knows he means turn his feet out. Because Sophie is an expert in all this. Still, she relieves his worries, assuring him that their lives will be filled with music and beauty from now on. She goes through the door to begin her try out... and never sees her brother again. Hope is a wondrous and necessary thing that can also be bitter and cold. We offer it to the mourning widow, saying it will be alright, not knowing this for certain but we say it because we must. Because it is what makes us human. It is the animating force in a dying world. But A paradox who we are in no position to question. For sometimes, in the tiny parts of life, we tell a weary stranger it will be okay. And the stranger believes and and that simple act makes it s

Your jacket, yours shoes, your dress -- they all TALK.   No, this is not me having a schizophrenic episode. This is me introducing the concept of the communicative element of fashion.  As a writer, I find I'm good when it comes to dialogue. Not so good when it comes to the descriptive elements. Therefore, that's why I'm so impressed with a book like The Luxe.  First, let me review it's weaknesses: yes, it's a Gossip Girl ripoff except set in the late 1800s. Yes, the anachronisms will make perfectionists want to shiv out their retina with a knife. And yes, most of the characters will have normal people wanting to construct a real-life facsimile of their character just so you can strangle them in effigy.   But what Anna Godberson does better than any writer I've encountered is use a person's dress to communicate something about their character. In almost every scene in The Luxe,  a character is wearing something to express something whether it's dominance,

The plan today was to workout, do a little writing, and pay the bills. But then I commit the cardinal sin of opening my eyes and see the vacant floor of my studio apartment. One folding table coupled with a WWE-style folding chair. Beyond that, I suppose the scattering of dirty socks on the floor could double as furniture. I feast my eyes on this mishmash of items and suddenly inspiration is drained from me. My mind goes into a fog and I go back to sleep. Art is everywhere. It's not only the pretty little paintings hanging on the walls, but the arrangement of those paintings in relation to tables, throw pillows, and chairs. This underappreciated form of art I'm talking about is interior design. A whopping 79% of all interior designers are women . So, it's a profession teaming with womanhood and fitting fodder for University of She. I'm in awe of women like Layne Torsch who are able to take disparate items and bring them together to create a space where, in her words, &

Huffington Park: Courtesy of Google Street View This post is oddly inspired by a real estate ad. I stumbled upon the bio of real estate agent Mary Frances Dumay . If you peruse Mary's list of philanthropic ventures, you will end up feeling substantially inadequate as a person. You may even question the meaning of life. It's easy to think of philanthropy as something you cynically slap on a resume to get a job, but Dumay apparently sees volunteering as a way of life. All of this is embodied in Mary's smile. So genuine it could be made of solid gold, I wanted to know where this happiness came from. This made me dig into one of her pet passions: Parks. The next time your life feels like it's in a free fall, I beg of you, do not go for the Jack Daniels. I have a better option which is healthy, convenient, and unless you live a post-apocalyptic hellhole, free. The option I speak of is Forrest Bathing. Please don't take this option literally or you may end up behind bars

As a male growing up in a small town in the 80s and 90s, I spent the bulk of my adolescence trying not to get my ass kicked by pretending not to like things that were remotely considered feminine. Fashion, romance novels, daily bathing routines. Even show an inkling of interest for these things, and an APB goes out to all the kids who parents didn't hug them enough. Admire the silhouette of a skirt and you were public enemy number one. Fast forward thirty years, and receiving death threats for liking Barbra Streisand too much have become way less frequent. And now all of my secret joys can be shared more openly. This brings me to the purpose of this blog. A sister to my learning blog, University of Me, University of She is a chronicle of my thoughts as I learn and read about interest categories currently dominated by women -- from interior design to Taylor Swift to the subtle nuances of third wave feminism. I doubt I will be able to teach anyone any lessons, but hopefully I can en