Of bears and men

 I am in shape, goes the old joke: round is a shape, right?

Let's start with the good stuff: over the last three months I've lost 6.8 kg or 15 pounds so I'm getting back to where I feel I need to be. My clothes are fitting better. 

The bronchitis I had last month is over and, apart from a slight cough, I am OK.

As mentioned in my last post, the weather has become more normal and more manageable. It was a perfect 29C this afternoon with a gentle breeze and there was a beautiful fluffy pink sunset.

There's one thing amiss, though: I'm frightened. Not today specifically but in general these days. Mad, violent men are getting to me. 

I think it finally hit home with this story that's gone round the world about a bear shot dead in a national park in central Italy. 

There are just 60 or so Marsican bears, a unique subspecies of brown bear who have lived happily alongside people for centuries and never attacked anyone. One bear, nicknamed Juan Carrito, broke into a bakery last year and ate all the biscuits, as though he was the Cookie Monster! His mother, nicknamed Amarena ("Black Cherry"), was the most fertile of the few breeding females and something of a symbol of the park. She was snuffling behind someone's back yard with her two latest cubs when the homeowner shot her dead. What bugs me so much about this story, apart from the senseless, excessive cruelty of killing a harmless and much-loved creature and nursing mother, is that years of hard work by local authorities, park rangers and locals to make a protected environment thrive is terminated in an instant by one selfish jerk. 

Now that Covid is no longer deemed a major problem and things have returned to normal, I am trying to put feelers out to the local trans community. However, a trans girl was beaten in the street by a man who claimed her existence was offensive to his religion. That one incident is putting me off going out here.

Given the violent father I have, the violent school I went to, the violent workplaces I have been in and the violence I see in the world, almost all of it caused by men and their narcissistic rage, their unpredictable and often inexplicable and excessive brutality over even minor frustrations, like the guy with the bear, and I am fearful. I have never got on with men, largely for this reason, but the problem has exploded in places we didn't expect, like Trump's incitements in the USA, or Putin's war. Whilst it's not going well for Trump or Putin just now, I do wonder what may replace the rule of law if they succeed. The LGBTQ community is always an easy and favourite target for such people and their nasty followers. Whilst I've said before that I don't think the general public are buying the transphobia yet, the violence of a tiny number of men is of serious concern.

So I'm frightened about things right now. I've had to acknowledge that to myself and it's making me very cautious. How different from a decade ago when I had little fear of living as a woman. 

 

Art pushes back

I do try to be positive in this blog and I am happy to say that the trans-positive theatrical and art shows I wrote of last month are thriving and this presents the public with the image of a vibrant community, supportive allies and the realities of our existence. Here are three more:

(1) Former member of parliament and trans activist Vladimir Luxuria sang in another stage show locally at Alassio, alongside impersonator Vincenzo de Lucia, who specialises in female TV presenters. Not my sort of show but certainly very popular.

(2) In Arles, France, the largest ever exhibition of US photographer Diane Arbus's work, titled Constellation, is on. Many of her photos of New York are of trans people, female impersonators, and the queer community. 

(3) Also in Arles, the touring exhibition of photos from Casa Susanna can be viewed this month. This exhibition has proved very popular.

I was also gratified to read actress Annette Bening, who has a trans son, fiercely defending the trans community against the sort of attacks we are currently subject to: Annette Bening shares heartfelt tribute to her trans son. 

I'm a bit worn down with the troubles, stresses and fears of the last few years and I know I need to take things gently right now. So I'm grateful, whilst I find my mojo again, for these various public advocates.

Some of the pretty things in the lane behind home

Being trans is not all about clothes and makeup. Pretty and delicate things make me happy.

Here is a stunning flower:

Here is the shrub with the pale blue flowers:

 

Here is passionfruit ripening:

 

And here is a snoozing cat flopped out in the shade:

Nature quietly doing its thing around us is soothing.

Sue x