Starry Night

It was Don McLean’s song “Vincent (Starry Starry Night)” that first drew me to the original painting, Starry Night, by Vincent van Gogh.

The song is beautiful and heartbreaking and it still brings tears to my eyes when I listen to it, a decade later.  The lyrics are haunting, reflecting van Gogh’s life and the themes surrounding it.  Don McLean’s emotive voice never ceases to affect me.

The painting has an even darker feeling than the song.  It draws me in not only because of the sapphire colors I love, but also because of the background story of van Gogh and my own identification with it.

For me, the painting can be both beautiful and sinister, disarming and disturbing.  It greatly depends on what mood I’m in when I look at it, especially if I am depressed.

Starry Night represents depression to me.  Sometimes life can be beautiful and there is warmth and hope in sight.  Other times, the darkness rears up in front of you and overwhelms nearly everything else, drawing all of your focus away from the good things until they’re all but blotted out.  The swirling clouds reflect my own circular thought process when I am caught up in depression, and the remoteness of the town below is a visual marker for how distant and alone I can sometimes feel.

Needless to say, the painting expresses the ebb and flow of my feelings very well.  I feel connected to it, and I was thrilled to find a gorgeous framed 3-D version of it a few years ago that truly brings it to life.  No matter what I’m feeling, Starry Night always has something to say back to me.

Utopia and Body Image

In The Time Machine (1960), the Utopian race, the Eloi, all look alike…  Young, pretty, and blonde.

Yvette Mimieux

But I realized something the other day.

Utopia wouldn’t be everyone looking the same, and perfect.


Utopia would be everyone seeing everyone else as beautiful, even if they weren’t the same, or perfect.

Perfection wouldn’t be us all matching the same social standard.  It would be when we stop caring about looks, stop talking about it, stop having social standards altogether.

If we keep judging and setting cookie cutter standards, there will ALWAYS be the majority of people who don’t fit.

I used to wish I lived back in the times when a fuller figure was in style.  But then what?  I could feel sexy at the expense of the skinny girls with fast metabolisms who just couldn’t gain any weight and get that hourglass figure?  Someone will always be hurt until we just eradicate the need for a standard or a scale of perfection.

Unfortunately, I don’t see social standards going away.  However, it is very encouraging to be on a site like FetLife and truly see that people have fetishes and are turned on by EVERYTHING under the sun.  Not just every sexual act, but every body style, as well.

The masses may not accept each other now, or in the coming millennia, but there are individuals who do.  I will strive to be among those individuals.

(Inspired by Morgan Freeman’s comments on racism.)

Socially Acceptable

I’ve often wondered why sex with multiple people seems so taboo and “wrong”… Why are some forms of physical expression fine, and others aren’t? No one judges for a public hug with a fairly new acquaintance, or a peck on the cheek from a foreigner, or a kiss between boyfriend/girlfriend. I understand there’s a time and place for everything, and I wouldn’t want to see someone having sex in public (okay, maybe I would), but I really want to know how these social norms got started because when you begin to examine them, a lot of them just don’t make sense. Why can’t affection just be affection, and pleasure, pleasure? It’s okay for girls to touch each others’ hair but not their breasts… It’s okay to shake a stranger’s hand but not touch their ass… I just find it all very interesting, and frustrating. And this is coming from someone who insists on a wide radius of personal space. ;)