High Water

- I still don't have an operation date and am kind of stressed about this. I mean. I just want to know already. There's a good chance it'll get in the way of going to BLYG because they only have one day after that weekend when they do operations. (I have asked them to fit me in there if they possibly can. They'll get back to me.) I would love to have this sorted out so that I can plan accordingly. And maybe some time when I'm not going round and round in circles about this I might manage to post something substantial again.


- We're going away for the weekend with family. There will be five of us in the car. And we're taking my wheelchair. And bedding. And food. I have no idea how this is going to work; maybe we should just strap J to the roof. (...or not.)


- Valborg's mum gave me a book! It's from these people (site in Swedish), with tips for murdering old unwanted clothes and turning them into new things. She just found it somewhere I think. It's pretty fabulous. No idea how much I'll actually use it but I'm pretty sure there are some good ideas and inpiration in there. And some really cool pictures! (I've been over there doing bits of sewing - my jeans and a t-shirt for Valborg and tiny pride flags because there is always a need for tiny pride flags - almost entirely from scrap fabric and old clothes that I'm re-using, so I am now designated as Interested In This Sort Of Thing. This is the kind of thing Valborg's parents latch onto, I think.


- Not unrelatedly, favourite queer/genderqueer symbols? I mean obviously I know a bunch but there are a million variations on all of them. (Yeah, I am sewing myself something ridiculous and then wearing it for pride week. And just whenever I want, basically.)


- Did I mention that I'm really obsessive when I get started with things? I'm still taking too many photos, but keep running out of space to store them and having to find new storage places.

I mean, he's eleven. For one thing, he's a good if eccentric artist, and for another, what the hell, eleven year olds are alowed to draw however the hell they want. So is everyone else, for that matter.

Here's the thing: for years I've only drawn anything very occasionally because I've never thought I was very good at it. And I'm probably not. I tend to stall a lot at writing for the same reason, though I can write pretty well - but I am, you know, not a genius, so do I really have the right? Liv Strömqvist has done a comic about this phenomenon, and I'll scan and translate it some time soon, I think.

Her point is basically: fuck that. Do you like doing it? OK! Do it! Unapologetically!

And maybe that's how you get good at it, and maybe you will never be good at it, but if you do it with confidence because you enjoy it then who cares.

This really should be obvious but it's something I've had a lot of trouble with. It's something most of us have trouble with.

Excuse me. I have a malformed crocodile or something to draw.