Long time, no bloggy

Recently I’ve been thinking about what I should do with this blog… or whether I should let it go. It’s been in different forms and different places on the internet over the years, from Livejournal to WordPress to Veganza and now here. I enjoy microblogging on Instagram but I’m not sure what to do with this space… so I’ll give it some more thought.

Friends, new and old: if you have any thoughts, please get in touch. Options I’ve been considering: book reviews + matching food; diet trials: vegan and veganised; and just some meandering journalling and miscellany that strikes me about work, life, the universe, everything, always carry a towel… But still, I’m not entirely sure I want to! I’ve been working on other projects off the internet – gasp! is such a thing even possible?! – and perhaps I’ll just concentrate on expanding those… In any case, love you all, friends out there in the internet ether. ūüôā Talk soon. xo

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Women in the arts, film, writing: an incomplete blurb

There must be more out there somewhere…

Why are there still so few successful female artists?

“Women in America earn only 2/3 of what men do. Women artists earn only 1/3 of what men artists do.”

With perhaps a notable exception being JK Rowling – a British author, but given her global audience… An author who put JK on her books rather than Joanne, and called her books Harry Potter, not Hermione Granger.

Sadly stories about women by women still feel fresher and more interesting simply because we lack them. Mad Max: Fury Road was an excellent example of this, still featuring Max as a lead, but with several women alongside him and in the supporting cast, which some asshats found quite shocking apparently.

To be fair, The Hunger Games was written by a woman, Suzanne Collins, and the protagonist was female AND a POC… in the books. In the films, it’s a bit more White Katniss & The Love Triangle Game. Not that I don’t heart Jennifer Lawrence. I would watch her watching paint dry (which would probably be better than American Hustle… not a fan). Cisgenders aside, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the lack of stories about and by genderqueer and trans-woman in the mainstream. Orange Is the New Black and Transparent are gloriously – and depressingly – unique.

Personally I¬†find Jane Austen to be¬†pretty much the bitchingest* author of all time. Yes, I’m a dullard fan of 19th century Brit lit. (If you don’t like the social comedy of Austen, check out Thomas Hardy if you haven’t already. A¬†less comedic 19th century¬†ally.)¬†If only Austen¬†could’ve scripted Downton Abbey… not that I didn’t enjoy it, but it had more than its fair share of cringe-worthy moments. It could’ve been the Breaking Bad of period drama, the 1st season of True Blood of period drama, the 4th season of The Walking Dead of period drama… especially that last one, given Pride & Prejudice & Zombies is imminent (released tomorrow in Australia) and looks amazing.

Why are there still so few successful female artists? / Why are there still so many ignored great female artists? Because art reflecting life reflecting art reflecting life.

Redressing the balance: Network with women. Don’t underestimate and undervalue the work of women and overestimate men, have confidence in women. Promote women and their work. Buy their awesome shit. Buy more books, art, by women. Buy art that tells stories about women.

“In a culture that still fetishes women‚Äôs appearance, in which women are under-represented on boards, in government and are over-represented as victims of sexual crime, knowing what women think, valuing it, is, I think, one of the most important things we can do.”

*PS. Bitchingest is, too, a word: ¬†– “most bitching”¬†‚ô•

Why, thank you kindly.

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