when grown women act like they're in junior high

you know that moment when someone calls you out of the blue and is angry with you? you get a whole litany of complaints from them, some which are perfectly valid, but they were so off your radar that you’re taken aback by the whole thing? it’s an instant of insight into another perspective; one which you definitely would never have arrived at on your own.

during that phone conversation (which feels strange in and of itself, because honestly, who makes phone calls anymore these days?), you realise that the person actually just wants to be mad and doesn’t want to resolve anything with you. she just wants to communicate her anger. repeatedly and insistently. and she definitely does not want to listen to you, nor does she actually want the information that she claims you have been withholding from her. she mostly seems to want to give you lessons about a culture that you clearly don’t understand, what with your being a foreigner and all. and while it’s all very unpleasant, people are entitled to their emotions. and sometimes situations make us angry. but you’re actually quite zen about it because you have no vested emotions in this person. you’d met her a few times, but actually felt quite ambivalent about her, not disliking, but not liking either. and you chalk the whole thing up to what you have to endure if you’re going to head up a little artsy organisation involving a bunch of women. because women are always worst to one another (why is that?).

however, it doesn’t stop there. the angry person takes to facebook and airs her complaints publicly on the group’s facebook page. you’re traveling for work at the time and don’t have time to address the complaints in the public forum, but thankfully one of the other members does so. a few weeks later, when you try to do so and actually to thank her for motivating the board to start an electronic newsletter to keep members informed, you discover that you are blocked from commenting on the post. and also on another post, which is complaining that the angry woman can’t see the information you posted about an upcoming event. and you realise that the reason she can’t see it, or any of your other posts, is that she has blocked you. and you investigate how one goes about that on facebook and you realise that it’s not something that could have been done by accident – it had to have been intentional. she wanted to spew her complaints and she didn’t want you to be able to answer them. and while that’s normal behaviour on the internet, it’s actually not that often that you encounter it in real life. and you move away from ambivalence towards dislike.

but you try to actually curb your knee-jerk response to such a person and handle it from another, more zen place. so you send an email with the comment that you wanted to post, praising her for sharing her experience with the group and for prompting us to start a tiny letter newsletter. and you say that it’s perfectly ok that she has blocked you on facebook (and you actually mean it), but that she should know that it’s why she can’t see the information you post in the group and could she kindly refrain from publicly complaining about that when she has chosen it herself.

she responds with pleas of a lack of tech savvy and asks you to explain how she can fix it. so you play tech support and give her a detailed description of where/how you block and unblock people (after googling your way to how it's done). and when she stops by the exhibition, you also show her the same on your own computer, which you happen to have along. but you maintain a wary distance and are not warm and friendly, because hello, she did block you and now she’s standing right in front of you, lying to your face about it.

some hours later, you hear that she proceeded to go down to the square and talk shit about you to several of your friends. and with that, you’ve had enough and you write to her once again, kindly asking her to please take the conversation directly with you and not go around talking about you on the streets. and, while lying to you directly that she hadn’t done so, like a child, picking up their toys and going home – she petulantly picks up her paintings from the exhibition and says she is leaving the group. and you wonder how grown women (seriously, she's in her 60s) can behave like that.

maybe we really do learn how to behave when we’re in junior high.

and then your ambivalence returns. and you realise it’s all just fodder for an eventual novel. if people didn’t want you to write about them unfavourably, they should have been nicer.

in the company of women

i have, over the past year, found a really awesome group of women friends to hang out with. one of them was able to borrow her sister's summer house near the west coast this past weekend and we spent a truly blissful 24 hours there together.

earlier in the week, we had been to a salon evening, where we got these red yarn bracelets, which we were to wear for three days with the purpose of looking at it and meditating on all of the happiness and good luck we would have in the new year. we decided already then to take them with us to the beach and release them into the north sea, in a kind of ceremony.

so we each took off our bracelet and released it into the sea in our own fashion. but it felt powerful as we stood there together, giving the little bit of yarn a last moment of silent, individual good intentions for 2014, before sending it out into the waves to be free.

then we wandered down the rock-strewn beach. so funny that just a few weeks ago, there were a few shells on the beach, but no stones at all and now it's covered with stones. (tho' i will grant that this is a different beach, a bit farther north).

we found a small beach ball in the waves and kicked it around a bit. this despite being five grown women. our little groups formed and reformed as we all walked and talked and enjoyed being together in a setting apart from our everyday.

after our trip to the beach, we retired back to the warm summer house, where a fire was soon burning merrily in the wood-burning stove. we got out our art supplies and began both the drink and the draw phase of the weekend. i made a gin cocktail (of course), using homemade pear-ginger cordial as a base. we each brought something to share (both wine and food).

we ate a tuna mousse with some very good bread, followed by a gorgeous fish soup and then my chocolate pots with salted caramel in the bottom for dessert. all along, there was wine. late in the evening, after the crochet lessons (i really learned how to make a granny square this time!), we turned to pomegranate gajol and a smoky laphroaig whiskey that i brought along. happily, lots of laughter and water in between kept it from going totally wrong the next day.

we don't really have any rules for drink and draw, but we did decide that we all had to draw the little silvery fish we saw on the beach in some form or another. other than that, we all indulged in whatever we wanted to. several of us are using an old book as the base, humument style. we had quite some fun reading from one of the books, which had a lot of illustrations as well. old books provide a surprising base for creativity. my own is called talismanen (the talismen) and tho' it's about knights and such, there are meaningful words on every page if you select carefully.

there was much laughter and sharing and deep, serious conversations as well. it all felt very, very good for the soul. i don't know what it is, but as i grow older, i find that more and more i crave hanging out with women friends. our spouses and families weren't far from our thoughts or our conversation, but it was good to just be together, eating, drinking and drawing and even singing. and crocheting. just the girls.

scenes from a weekend on the west coast of denmark

i went away for a weekend drink & draw with my posse of amazing women who make me laugh. we borrowed a wonderful summer house and stayed up very late learning to crochet, talking, laughing and drinking a bit too much wine, gajol (a licorice-flavored tipple), laphroaig and gin cocktails. we also ate some amazing food. but i'm pretty exhausted, so i'll have to tell you all about it soon. these photos of our walk down to the beach, where the north sea was crashing to shore with strangely yellowish-brown rather angry-looking waves, will have to suffice for now. and i totally want that little steep-roofed magical fairytale house in the last photo, don't you? it was quite amazing, coming up over the dunes to see it. kind of like stumbling onto how i imagined denmark would look in reality, after all these years.

here's hoping your weekend was amazing too.

are you awake?

i went with a friend to an amazing event called salon allison park at the mungo park theatre in kolding. the fabulous young women who work at the theatre got together and decided that in their busy lives, they were missing conversations that weren't of a professional or practical nature. they were missing comparing notes with other women on things of everyday concern, so they decided to stage an event, largely for women (tho' men were welcome too), to talk about the everyday.  

but let me back up a second. the theatre where the event took place (tho' it wasn't a play) is named for mungo park, who was a scottish explorer of the african continent. allison was his wife, so the girls found it appropriate to name the salon after her. 

i'll admit i had visions of a salon in the french sense - a setting for highly intellectual and philosophical discussions. when we first started, i was feeling a little resentful that because we were a large group of women (and just a handful of brave men), we were reduced to speaking of everyday topics rather than philosophy. my misgivings fell quickly away as we began.

the evening was well-planned. when you came in, you were given a sticker on which to write your name and the answer to a question that was on the back. you weren't allowed to tell anyone what your question was at that point. my question was "what are you good at today?" and i answered "laughing." the question proved to be the method by which we found the first table we should join. we had to go around, reading everyone else's name tags and trying to find those who likely had the same question as ourselves. we were pretty spot on at our table.

then, once we settled in and a bit of bubbly was poured, one of the young women who arranged the evening told a poignant little story of her everyday. she's a freelance theatre director and a graduate student. she lives a chaotic life, without much of a regular schedule. she works long hours and has trouble, like many of us, knowing the difference between work time and time off. with all of our devices and connectivity, we are on all the time. she was expecting her first child and was longing for a life like the one of her childhood, where they lived the same place, picked apples from the same trees and had a regular schedule. she had baked several hundred lovely little homemade tarts with apple and seasonal berries for the evening, as well as tiny delicious meringue kisses and little surprise "lunch packages." it was a beautiful way to share her dream of an everyday.

then it was our turn. there was a little stack of cards on the table, with question prompts about our everyday lives to get us talking. at our table, we were a little hesitant at first, but were soon talking about ex-husbands and lives turned upside down and meaningful jobs and time with children and grandchildren and sick husbands and choices made along the way. we were disappointed when the signal came for the next phase to begin.

the next phase was a quick round, where we were in pairs and each of us had a stack of questions, where we had to answer whether we engaged in an activity out of desire or duty. they were questions like do you say i love you? do you pay taxes? do you celebrate birthdays? do you make dinner? do you laugh at jokes? do you work?

then came the third round, where we came together in a new group, based on a little symbol up in the corner of our name tags. the broad theme of this final round was dreams. there was a stack of ten questions. the first one was are you awake? the second: do you dream? and we started talking about our dreams and our nightmares. and around the time we got to the fifth or sixth question, do you live someone else's dream?, we realized we were discussing the wrong kind of dreams. it was dreams of the hopes and variety. but honestly, i loved the first part of the conversation best, where we talked about the dreams we dream when we're asleep.

there was a great energy in the room. a happy, lively hum of voices. people laughed and were open and seemed delighted to share with strangers. it was decidedly undanish. but it proved that even danes crave interaction with new people and want to share their stories and hear other people's stories. it was very danish that it was all very formalized and it required a whole lot of question prompts to get people started. but once they started, whoa! it really was like a floodgate of bottled up sharing was opened. 

if we could get everyone talking about everyday things in line at the grocery store or on the train as well, denmark would be transformed and we might even start to be able to see on people's faces why they come out on top of those happy lists year after year. 

* * *

the most beautiful thing you'll see all day. and maybe even all week. possibly even all year.

it's that beautiful.

spoken word

spoken word by tanya davis.

i need to find a way to get more spoken word into my life.
there's going to be a salon evening, focused on women at mungo park in kolding.
i'm hoping it's a place to start.
interestingly, it's not on their website, only in an email newsletter i get.
somehow i like that. it makes it feel like it's especially for me.

* * *

happy weekend, one and all.

bare breasts and bare souls

on thursday, we held an opening reception for our torso project. around 70 people stopped by to see the results. a friend came by, just as we were leaving, with an australian rotary exchange person in tow and i ended up staying another hour, talking to them and sharing a bottle of australian shiraz. it was, in all estimations, a success.

i still think the plain white torsos give the starkest, most artistic impression. but it's true that they are not autobiography in the same way as the others. the expression we individually chose was as unique as we ourselves are and somehow, seeing them all there, hanging together (they're suspended with wire and hanging on hangers), dismissed some of my earlier concerns about whether or not they are art. hanging there all together, representing some sense of community and fellowship and womanhood, it didn't matter anymore whether they are art or not.

i am one of the few who included a look towards the future in the way i chose to express myself at this moment. the sewn paper garland hanging on the inside is my bucket list. it contains goals both lofty (publish a book) and not-so-lofty (befriend a fox).

many of the others covered theirs in photos of their friends and family. despite the central importance of photography to me, i did not want to use photos on mine. i chose instead drawings of places and things that are important to me (chicago, moscow, copenhagen, macedonia) and cameras. there are a few helleristning, because i love those and find deep meaning in their simple lines.

probably most important are the newspaper words that are underneath - both visible and not visible. mostly in danish, mostly because those are the newspapers i had at hand, but expressing fragments of sentiments like "seeking authenticity" and "can the danes be changed in 5 minutes?" and "abnormal is the new normal" and "men are from mars, women from venus, children from heaven and bush is from a very ugly place filled with fear and punishment." that one i'd been saving for awhile.

as agreed, my birth certificate is there, on the inside and you'd have to know what it looks like in order to find it. mine is painted that same blue - a sort of julie blue - inside and out and it somehow represents a kind of peacefulness to me. i also spritzed it with my favorite perfume of the moment (sisley no. 2), so my torso is even scented. each torso is as unique as can be, expressing something meaningful to each of us, but also transmitting meaning to those who come to look. it is an intimate, personal exhibition, letting all of the imperfections quite literally hang out for all to see, but also presenting a coherent whole somehow. a little window into our individual souls, as expressed on our very bodies. pretty powerful stuff, actually.

exposed!

what a weekend! i stepped over my own boundaries, overcame my own fears, bonded with new people and became closer to some who were already friends, learned that nobody has a perfect body and began work on what is, for me, a major piece of autobiographical art. it was the weekend of the torso project.

probably the best part was selecting the headlines i wanted to swathe myself in.

i've come to feel rather not particularly american after nigh on 15 years of living outside the country of my birth.  but there are still moments when i am deeply, culturally bound by my heritage - like at the thought of standing topless and (gasp!) braless and allowing someone who i just met to cover me in plaster. i actually had nightmares about it two nights before it happened. a streak of deep conservatism surfaces within me and i'll admit feeling some measure of resentment for it, even while i am utterly helpless against it. but i took a deep breath and swallowed my fears (after expressing them and laughing quite a lot about them (for which i am grateful to those who helped me do that)).

between the future and the past - could it be more appropriate?

but when it came down to it and women around the room (24 of them), working in pairs, shed their tops and stood there in all of their real glory, it was actually quite ok. and despite having someone else drape strips of plaster on my entire upper body (the kind casts are made of when you have a broken arm), it was both intimate and not. because it was also a chemical process (plaster gets warm as it hardens), and a logistical puzzle - placing the strips so they clung to one another and built the next layer. it began to harden quickly and felt more like a suit of armor than something particularly intimate (which perhaps also bears reflection).

travel-related on the inside - political on the outside.

in the end, standing there exposed and as real as it gets was quite ok. and it was an amazing experience - intimate and fun and full of laughter and expressions of fears and creativity and excitement. and my goodness, what an experience it was. to be lived and felt and shared.

i covered the inside with travel-related headlines and bits of news stories - as i am formed by travel, perhaps most of all. the outside is quite political, but also contains inside jokes - like a cartoon about facebook drawn by my friend political cartoonist jens hage - who loves breasts and who i stuck right there on my own breast, in a kind of gesture of love and abiding friendship. a joke of the kind he will appreciate.

i've only just begun decorating it. it will be interesting to see where it takes me. it has only begun to whisper to me of where it wants to go. stay tuned.

and if you'd like to gather a group of women (you by no means need to have 24 of them) and do something similar, perhaps with an eye on a global exhibition - shoot me an email (jknachti (at) gmail (dot) com).

on drinking and drawing and laughing and talking and nurturing one's soul

i didn't know what i was going to actually draw at drink & draw - i put way more thought into the food i'd make than to the actual drawing part. but when one of the guests, who is a librarian, took out a book of poetry, a library book, no less (tho' it's one the library was getting rid of), to draw in, i knew i had to draw in a book as well. it's one i bought ages ago in some or other flea market - purchased because it had a gorgeous art deco cover (it's in the background of this photo). i hadn't even noticed the name of it, which is talsimanen (the talismen), which seemed extra fitting. i got out the inks (still in love with payne's grey) and got stuck in. it was odd, because initially i felt very restless and unable to settle in and draw, but something about the others drawing diligently away, using pastels and pens and pencils, settled me down and i got into a groove.

there was something magical about the evening. eating good food, drinking some wine and then taking out art supplies opened us all up in a way that the food and wine alone wouldn't have done. we don't know one another that well, but we were soon telling stories of past loves and past husbands and feeling we were in a setting where it was completely safe to share.

it's funny how kim's casual mention on facebook of a drink & draw evening she had attended, morphed into something very meaningful right here in my own home. an evening of laughter and sharing with women who inspire and comfort and challenge (in a good way). it definitely won't be the last time we do this. it's interesting, as i grow older, my need for spending time with women friends seems to on the rise. the evening gave me both that and fulfilled my need to throw ideas out there into the world and see what becomes of them.  it became so much more than i had imagined. and it was precisely what my soul needed.

be kind to yourself

reading a friend's facebook feed as she reported on the golden globes made me sad. she marveled at the glamour of the dresses and makeup, but actually said outright that it made her feel horrible about herself and her appearance. she's a gorgeous woman with no reason to allow some couture-clad hollywood starlet with stylist and make-up person to make her feel anything, let alone ugly or unworthy. of course those people look awesome as they walk up the red carpet. it's their job to do so.

women. why do we do this to ourselves? we are so hard on ourselves (and on each other for that matter). envy rears its ugly head and leaves us feeling shattered and insecure. what is it that keeps us from resting in ourselves, content with who we are and where we are? and why can't we see another beautiful woman without being consumed with envy and self-loathing? honestly, people, men don't do this to themselves or one another. and it's time we stopped too.

i say we practice being a little kinder to ourselves and the women around us this week. it's about time.

happy monday!

what is an ideal family anyway?

this was the front page of our newspaper on friday. the headline says "career society's new ideal family" - and i "read" the photo as one of a filipino nanny seeing to the children and family dog, with absent parents.  but the article itself turned out to be far more cynical than that.

it seems that of the 5,149 fertility treatments in denmark in 2010, 3,249 were women who were not in a relationship with a man. that means 2/3 of the fertility treatments in this country are performed on single or lesbian women. 13% of these treatments result in a child, so some 400 children were born to single or lesbian mothers. the article didn't dig down into how many of these were in a lesbian relationship and how many were just women whose biological clock was ticking with no partner in sight. it also didn't include those who might have been inseminated abroad or without the help of a clinic. but the numbers are interesting.

leaving aside the question of lesbian couples who are having children (which i am totally cool with and which wasn't the focus of the article), it seems that there are increasing numbers of women in denmark who are choosing to have a child on their own. the article indicated that they are often well-established career women who simply feel they don't have time for career, relationship and children, so they are choosing children and career and making a conscious decision to forego a relationship with the child's father, or to even bother to find a father for their child other than in a test tube.

in fact, there are actually people selling coaching services and so-called decision workshops and donor sperm workshops and networking groups for this type of woman. it seems that for many of these women, their biggest worry isn't that the child will grow up without two parents, but that having a child will devalue them in the workplace. really? this is seriously the most cynical view on the world i've read in a long time. it frightens me to think of what the individualistic, me-me-me, egotistical way of living today is doing to our world. i realize this sounds rather anti-feminist of me, but i cannot believe that not a word of an article that stretched over two full pages of my newspaper, questioned whether or not it's the best thing for the child to grow up with a single parent? especially one that the article cites as particularly career-minded.

the good news is that today's workplace and way of working allows for a single parent model - no one in denmark (except foreigners) will look askance at you for leaving at 3 to pick up your child. it's assumed that you'll get back online in the evening and tend your mails after you've put the child to bed, so single mothers can make it work to have both career and child. both the technology and the view on work support this model.  and that undoubtedly helps two-parent families just as much, so i'm good with that.

however, the article actually says outright that many women are choosing to divorce because they feel they only have time for their child and their job, but not the husband. that way, they also can work very hard every other week, when the partner has the kids. according to one mercuri urval recruitment consultant interviewed for the article, employers look upon this type of dedicated-every-other-week employee very favorably.

i'm not sure whether the article was meant as a provocation, but i feel provoked by it. i'm not against anyone who has the means - economically and mentally - having children, whether they're in a relationship or not, but that the impact on the child itself is not even covered in the article provokes me. there wasn't a single reason to do so outlined in the article that wasn't incredibly self-absorbed on the part of the single woman.

i think having children is really hard. at times i'm overwhelmed by the sense of responsibility i feel and the energy it takes and the state of world we've brought our child into. i would definitely not want to be doing it on my own. but it's also extremely rewarding and some of my happiest moments are spent with the amazing child that we're raising. but again, i wouldn't want not to share that with her father. i just don't think it's meant to be something we do alone, for our own selfish reasons.

maybe i'm just not a feminist.