What a difference the right church makes, eh? For queer and trans people, the right church can be a matter of life and death.
I grew up believing that you look for churches within the denomination you were raised in, and pretty much, if you stayed within those safe theological walls, you’d have a good experience, one that you were used to. Familiar. Like Church Branding. Stick with the Brand Name and you’d have the quality and taste you were looking for. If you grow up in “the church,” that concept is so ingrained in you. More than the brand of jeans you buy, your favorite burger place, the make of your car, even the teams you root for. None of those choices would affect the next ten thousand years of your happy eternal life. You will stick to your brand pretty strongly.
An “off-brand” church is an unknown path. I was raised to believe that Baptists (somehow) hold the Truth about Everything Spiritual and that Presbyterians were slightly off–like 10 degrees off to port. I know this is ludicrous, but follow the bouncing logic here…
“Open my mouth, and let me bear gladly the warm truth ev’rywhere; Open my heart, and let me prepare love with Thy children thus to share. Silently now I wait for Thee, ready, my God, Thy will to see; open my mouth, illumine me, Spirit divine!”
— Clara Scott (1895) “Open My Eyes that I May See”
What is it that we need to say today?
The loudest Christians, the ones interviewed, the ones that are commentators on roundtables and talk shows and discussions are conservative evangelicals. They are considered the “other side” of the argument when it comes to the value and worth of the lives of trans and queer people. I don’t like the premise. We should not be up for debate on whether we should have marriages, teach your kids, serve in the military, go to a public bathroom, or in some conversations, whether we deserve to live.
On the bright side, there are thousands of churches and many denominations of religion and faith that accept and affirm LGBTQ people as worthy of love and equal status and the right to choose their expression. I have been privileged to attend several churches like that in my life, but I know of many many more. The problem is that we just don’t hear those churches very often on the screens we are watching. Reverend Budde of the Episcopal Church made such a strong statement for the worth and care of every individual on the Inauguration of DT. She had a platform and she used it.
We don’t always get those platforms. Perhaps we are not naturally loud people. But we are going to have to speak up louder because a) people seem to think that Christianity and being LGBTQ are incompatible (they are not–and there are great books and websites which will explain the details to you if you are fuzzy on them or unsure), b) Queer people have been so hurt by evangelical churches that they can’t see the churches that will celebrate their true selves. There are whole denominations of Episcopalian Churches, Presbyterian Churches, United Church of Canada churches, United Methodist Churches, American Baptist Churches, just to name a few, that have fought for queer and trans inclusion so hard as to have endured a split in their denomination to do it.
I heard a sermon Sunday about one such divisive vote in the United Methodist Church.
In my new job, as a tarot reader (spiritual life coach), I meet a lot of people who have barely survived evangelical churches. A lot. Many of them are queer like me. Others may not be queer, but they too got judged, hurt, ostracized, and/or punished for years by a church.
Our shop, The Sacred Owl and Salt Room is a sanctuary and a destination for people in East Tennessee who want to still connect to their spirituality and their faith but they don’t know if a church and steeple should come with that faith. And that’s completely understandable. Who goes back to the places that hurt you? Or even the ones that look like those places? However, something is still calling to them, and they don’t know what it is, but they want to hold on to part of the faith they were brought up in, but leave behind the exclusion, the judgement.
They want a God who is strong enough to hold them, but loving enough not to hurt them.
They want this for themselves and they want this for their kids.
Queer and Trans folks have always been a part of churches, supporting them and bearing them up. You just might not have known who they were. Many chose to stay quiet and serve the church–a job they love–rather than risk that good work by coming out.
I remember once, in 2004 or 2005, when I had returned to the US after discovering I was gay, I was dating the pianist for an MCC church in Lubbock (a church that was created by and for and served the LGBTQ community and anyone else who wanted to participate and enjoy). He took me to a secret Saturday Board Game Day for queer men. These were friends of Jay, and met in someone’s home. They were all in their 50s and 60s, playing Snakes and Ladders on folding tables, laughing and calling each other “old queens.” I felt accepted and loved and pulled in to this “secret” meeting. Why was it secret?
They were the music ministers, pianists or organists at local churches in the Lubbock area. They were all closeted, except for the man who brought me there, and they told me stories of “little old women” who loved them because they reminded them of Liberace. And they would laugh, but you could tell that they loved being loved— who doesn’t?
But they couldn’t come out. They were beloved by their churches—but they were certain it would all disappear if they came out.
Every straight teen boy could stand up in a congregation and announce that he was engaged to the girl sitting beside him and the church would cheer for them, but for these men, they couldn’t talk about who they loved, and if they did, they had to mask. It was necessary to keep their jobs, homes, livelihoods, friends, all of it. Coming out in a church in Lubbock, you could just as easily trip on a snake and be sent to the bottom of the board.
Even in these conditions, in George W Bush’s America of 2004, 2005, a re-election won by scaring conservatives about gay marriage, these men, these “old queens” were happy to be here in this house, free to be themselves, playing games and reassuring each other that they were not alone. Their energy and joy was their survival and rebellion. They continued to serve their congregations that same energy and joy–and they were responsible for the feelings people had coming to church. Their joy translated into joy for everyone who came; their love for the music or the arts or the theatre had a ripple effect on everyone. They bear up the souls of every member of the congregation. I celebrate them today and hope that in the future they can all be fully loved and celebrated and affirmed for who they are in every aspect.
The song on the rainbow music here is “Be Still My Soul, the Lord is on your side. Bear patiently, the cross of grief or pain.” Let’s celebrate and send love and support to all those who love to give us joy through music and the arts in our churches (and in other areas) even when they have to erase part of themselves to survive in their churches. I hope there is a secret Board Game Saturday in all the cities for all of them.
_________________
“Bearing Up the Church,” Jerome Stueart, (11 x 15) watercolor, mixed media on paper. Part of my Meditations on the Bears in the Baptist Hymnal series. Prints available at Redbubble.
My Birthmother, Laurie, as a spiritualist on stage, listening to the dead who are trying to give her messages to relay to those in the audience. Part of the illustrations for the essay.
My essay, “The Dead Viking My Birthmother Gave Me,” is up over at GEIST Magazine online. It’s an essay about adoption, being queer, being lonely in the Yukon during Winter, and spiritual differences between a birthmother and son that include what one might do with a hunky centuries-old Viking spirit guide, and it’s all true from what I can remember.
Some of the illustrations that were published in the article that I did weren’t able to be put in the online version because of technical difficulties, so here they are:
You’ve seen the 1964 Rankin/Bass stop motion Christmas special, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, written by Romeo Muller. It’s been aired on TV every year since it was first shown. You may have wondered, though, why Santa seems to be so MEAN-spirited in this movie (probably the only anti-Santa movie we show at Christmas time). There is a better Santa in this movie, though, hiding in plain sight.
CEO Santa Rules the North with a Manufacturer’s Mindset
Santa is the boss of toy-making and toy distribution, of all the elves and reindeer. When Rudolph is born, Santa blames Donner for having a “weird” son, and makes fun of Rudolph’s nose — — and of course, all of his “employees” do too. They’re just following Santa’s lead. His meanness and prejudice gets passed down to the reindeer. How can Santa himself be so narrow-minded!? This doesn’t feel like the Santa we know.
In a tale about manufacturing and production, this glowing reindeer and fabulous, dentist-oriented elf are merely flawed products. They are a version of an elf and reindeer who don’t do what those products should do. They are misfits like the toys they will meet later. The other elves, the other reindeer, do not want to accept them, as they have been taught to reject flawed toys.
Who do you think created the misfit toys? Those toys are typical manufacturing mistakes, tossed away. Losses. Victims of Quality Control. There is no love for a flawed product in a warehouse toy factory at the north pole. The elves must be VERY AWARE of their “mistakes”, even if they aren’t aware of the Island the misfit toys all eventually run to for safety.
I believe Santa is written this way on purpose — revealing the commercialized CEO Santa that’s kinda already there. Muller just reveals more of him because he has a doppleganger to compare Santa to. If Santa is the villain, and Rudolph is the hero of the story who has to grow and learn, then he needed a role-model for Rudolph to learn from, to really accept himself and others, since Santa won’t be modeling that.
This is the role given to the OTHER sleigh-driving big bearded man in the movie, Yukon Cornelius. I think this is done on purpose.
Yukon’s a character made up by writer, Romeo Muller, to expand the story beyond the original Robert May song. Muller doesn’t let this just be a song of Rudolph waiting till he’s useful to be discovered. That’s not fair to Rudolph. He creates someone better, a guide, a guru, a model to show Rudolph how to treat others, and himself, with radical acceptance and love.
Radical acceptance and love
Members of a group, a society, a culture, may“naturally” accept people who reflect back to them the kind of group they want to be seen as. So they might accept those who are like “us”, those who stay within expectations of social and moral cultural systems. Those who stay within the lines our group has drawn.
Hermey, though, is an elf who wants to become a dentist instead of a toymaker; Rudolph can’t really hide his bright, blinking nose and that makes him targeted by bullies. They are considered “unacceptable” by the groups they find themselves in — — not what they expect in an elf or reindeer. They don’t fit in, or won’t fit in. They won’t cooperate with what is expected. Rudolph tries to over his nose with mud. That’s not a permanent or acceptable fix for anyone.
When Rudolph and Hermey meet each other, they become besties! They have a lot of common experiences, in a way, commiserating over their differences. They reject societal norms! They are Rebels! They accept each other right away because they also want to be accepted! They go off into the world to do their own things.
They are all Abominable
Rudolph and Hermey aren’t safe in the world when they don’t play by the world’s rules. The Abominable Snowmonster is there to make them fear following their dreams. Noisy! Gnashing Teeth! Roaring! Chasing! GIANT! In a sense, as personified fear, he shows they will be unacceptable everywhere they go. He will relentlessly chase them down.
Who saves them from the Snowmonster? It isn’t Santa. Santa doesn’t even seem to know it exists, though I would say he is controlled by the fear himself.
Who HAS experienced that fear before — that fear of not being acceptable — and conquered it?
Yukon Cornelius.
Oh, he knows “Bumble”! He even reduces the scary words “abominable” and “monster” to rename him with a word for awkwardness. When we “bumble” through something, we bounce from one thing to another, without direction, we screw up, mess up, blunder, stumble. Bumble is a misfit too — and his name announces that he can’t “fit” either. Cornelius calls Bumble what he is — a socially awkward creature who is badly trying to fit in. He looks scary, and Yukon acknowledges that, but Yukon knows things about Bumble. He knows that Bumbles don’t like water and he knows they can bounce. He knows the strengths and weaknesses of Bumble. He sees through the scary part and sees the real Bumble, trying to survive alone. He will eventually save Bumble by giving him what he wants most: to be accepted with all his quirks.
Yukon Cornelius sees Hermey and Rudolph too. He sees them as who they are and who they want to be and immediately accepts them. He practices “radical acceptance” of everyone. Radical acceptance is acceptance BEYOND what you are comfortable with, what you’ve known, what is advantageous to you, or what might benefit you. You accept people for where and who they are. And you loudly support those you radically accept. Yukon is very loud. He is not afraid of anyone seeing who he’s with and who he supports.
The First Misfit
Long before they go to the island of Misfit Toys, we see that Yukon is already a MISFIT himself. He is a prospector obsessed with finding, not “silver and gold” as the snowman sings, as we are all led to believe, but a peppermint mine.
He doesn’t WANT what the rest of the prospectors — — or people want. He isn’t after money. He wants peppermint. Well that isn’t valuable, you might say. Why would a prospector be searching for peppermint? Prospecting is a hard life — — and would you go through the dangers of living in the wild, being outside of cities and companions, facing harsh weather, difficult, mountainous regions and digging through the earth — — just to find peppermint? The desire that makes Yukon different from ALL other prospectors is what makes Yukon a misfit. It seems to be a flaw. But I think it’s tied to his goals.
Santa has previously been characterized as judgmental: he knows if you’ve been bad or good. He has a list of naughty and nice people. He is a moral judge! If you are GOOD, you get blessings. If you are bad, you get JUNK. He is associated with worth and value, even commercial value, but also moral value.
Yukon, on the other hand, knows your strengths, allows those strengths to surface and guides you to use those strengths, even the ones others might dismiss. He is associated with seeking bliss, helping others, and he sees their innate value without judgment.
Yukon is set up to be a direct comparison to Santa.
Look at Yukon’s dog mushing team. This is radical acceptance in action! Whereas Santa’s sleigh has to be guided by “perfect” reindeer, Yukon’s sleigh is led by a mismatched group of sled dogs, that no one would believe would be good sled dogs: a St. Bernard, a dachshund, a sheltie, a beagle and a black poodle. We could think up a lot of reasons why this team of dogs wouldn’t work — -and yet, they work! Yukon believes in them, and they believe in themselves. They are all misfits but they love running and they run well together. They don’t know the proper commands (It takes them a while to understand “Mush” and “whoa” — “Stop” is what they have to hear to stop! Good luck teaching them Gee and Haw!) But in allowing them to be themselves, he demonstrates radical acceptance and love. He accepts the dogs for what they WANT to be, for who they know they ARE. And he lets them be that. And they show that they ARE good at what they love to do.
Yukon as the Better Santa
This is why I think Yukon contrasts so powerfully with Santa. They are similarly presented men — large, bearded, loud men with sleighs pulled by animals — but who act completely differently towards others. There are rules with Santa. There are not with Yukon.
Santa has to be convinced later into being accepting and giving . His acceptance of Rudolph comes when the reindeer can prove he can be of use NOT as a reindeer but as a beacon. Bumble, similarly, must be marketed as tall enough to put the Star on the Christmas tree. Thankfully, the presents from the island of Misfit Toys don’t have to prove themselves in order to be gifted at the end of the story to kids who will love them — but Santa must still be convinced to deliver them too. In fact, in 1964, with the original broadcast, Santa makes a promise to deliver them, but is never shown doing that, to which viewers complained that they wanted to see Santa keep his promise! In 1965, a new sequence was added to show Santa delivering the Misfit Toys to their new homes.
Even if you don’t understand the parallel set up of these two men as a kid, you GET the idea that Yukon accepts people and that Santa doesn’t. Yukon is the role model of this show, not Santa.
Yukon rescues, salvages, rehabilitates, transports, and teaches. He teaches Rudolph to value himself and to value others regardless of what kinds of expectations he may have, regardless of what they can do FOR him. Rudolph teaches Santa the same thing. I believe Yukon’s save of Bumble seals the lesson that no one is above acceptance.
When WE meet Yukon Cornelius
Growing up, seeing this show for the first time, and subsequent times, I think I saw myself as Rudolph, as many kids did — — someone who was not perfect, not wanted by other kids, not what adults thought I should be as a boy, but who had an important role to play in this “plot,” I hoped. I did not have a lot of positive male role models in my life who accepted me for who I was. I always felt like most boys and men were disappointed in me for one reason or another — I did not want to play hard, play sports; did not want to be mechanical; did not love the idea of the military as a proving ground for my manhood or patriotism. I did not know I was gay, and didn’t know I had ADHD. I was artsy and geeky. I was a misfit.
My parents did a great job to meet me where I was. Dad introduced me to Star Trek, comic books, science fiction. My mother read the Chronicles of Narnia to us in the hallway. These are enormous things! They also found and gave me for Christmas some very heady and scientific books on butterflies when I was interested in butterflies. I always got great gifts for Christmas — weird ones, but ones I cherished. My parents brought me things that transformed me for the rest of my life in good ways. They also were my first introduction to spirituality, and even though we eventually disagreed about some small things (that are kinda more important now) my faith began here. They gave me enough to grow my own faith and keep it strong, even as a gay man.
But my parents, like many people in the 70s and 80s, were still subject to the “rules” of society for gender. It was very hard for anyone not to be soaked in those rules. Guidelines for girls and boys and how they were supposed to act, what and who they should love, what they should do. We still have them. They are the basis for much pain and rejection even today.
Anti-Trans laws are directly influenced by previous theories about gender; anti-lgbtq legislation is also built on the backs of outdated gender theory. Gender is a cultural construct, and while many people are more aware of this, there are still many people who are afraid of people who don’t obey those gender rules — whether that is through gender expression or sexual orientation, or any other expression of gender and sexuality.
We should know better now.
But back in the 70s, these expectations were so much a part of our culture that I can’t honestly blame my parents for believing them. All the doctors, the newscasters, the psychologists, the media, not to mention all those in office. When your access to the truth is limited, you don’t get the truth, usually.
My parents did what they could to guide. In many ways, they protected me from much of the consequences others might have wanted to give me, and in their own way, they were practicing radical acceptance — as radically as they could within our family.
We end up on the Island of Misfit Toys
These misfit toys in the movie were rejected only because they didn’t DO what was expected of them. They were still of value and still interesting (as we come to see in the movie). Moonracer, the winged lion, comes across as God protecting the misfits from others — -but unable to, himself, fix their situation. It takes Yukon with Rudolph and Hermey to help bridge the distance between these undervalued people and those who could help them find their home.
I think we unconsciously gravitate to those who accept us. Perhaps, while the kids were enjoying the animation, the adults were learning a lesson about which sled-musher to follow, about how to accept others.
Me, I was looking for a Yukon Cornelius to see my value and worth, as many of us do.
I eventually found a way to bring Yukon to me.
In 2019, I created a set of 10 paintings of Yukon Cornelius in the style of NC Wyeth — a style of boy’s adventure books popular in the early 20th Century, to explore what a gay hero might look like to me — the kind of gay hero I wish I could have had growing up. In 2022, I completed a show of about 50 paintings, acrylic and watercolor, with stories to go with them, titled, “The Further (Queer) Adventures of Yukon Cornelius,” where he went out to help other cryptids sometimes with his partner, Bumble. It gave me a gay hero that I would have loved to have read more about. We only got 10 min of Yukon Cornelius in “Rudolph” but it made me want to see what might happen if we had more time with him. Who else could he radically accept?
The Queer Connections
Yukon is the Santa we want to believe Santa is. Inclusive, accepting, encouraging, helpful, transformational. I think Romeo must have put this in here intentionally. As a writer, I can’t see this parallel as anything but intentional. Especially regarding the themes, and knowing Romeo made up the whole plot himself outside of Rudolph’s original rejection. I know you’ve probably come across a couple of articles that look at the gay themes in this show — -but wow, they certainly hit LGBTQ people strongly, whether or not they were intended to.
ALL people can identify with being rejected at one point in their lives for not being what other people thought they should be, which is why this movie has lasted for 59 years, being shown every year (I think it’s considered the longest running annual show on TV). It tapped into something universal. Rejection is HUGE for kids, and the fear of rejection is paralyzing. We are all, in some ways, a misfit.
But I do believe there is a specificity of rejection present here. Something queer kids know too well. When Donner is blamed for his son’s behavior, that Rudolph is not what his father wants him to be, and that this gets Rudolph banned from a place in society, that really hits so hard for queer people I think. To me there is a strong queer undertone for the KIND of rejection Rudolph goes through and the KIND of rejection that Hermey faces. They face shame for their different desires, their different aspirations, and their families are shamed too.
In this film, I believe Yukon Cornelius is a model for a better version of Santa. I think Romeo Muller wrote that on purpose, writing parallels to Santa into the DNA of Yukon Cornelius, in order to highlight their similarities and differences. I think he wanted us to rethink the way we “gift” others with our friendship and our acceptance. Are we here to judge them, to find out if they are naughty or nice, and then decide whether they are acceptable, or misfits?
No, I think we’re here to be more Yukon Cornelius. We are here to befriend, belove, rescue, support, transport, help, and accept people where they are, and for who they are. We all need a little more openness in our sleigh, to carry people, and not just our things, our job. We need to be able to detour away from our agendas at times and help out others with their agendas.
Perhaps today, Santa could learn some tips and could shed the “nice” and “naughty” criteria, allowing universal access to benefits and beneficence by practicing a little radical acceptance of his own.
Jerome Stueart (2007 Clarion Workshop) is an American and Canadian queer illustrator, writer, and professional tarot reader. His writing has appeared in F&SF, Tor.com, On Spec, Lightspeed, Strange Horizons, Geist, and elsewhere. He was a finalist for a 2020 World Fantasy Award in Short Fiction for “Postlude to the Afternoon of a Faun” (F&SF). His PhD in English (Texas Tech U) with specialties in Creative Writing put him forever in debt, but has allowed him to live and work as a teacher part-time for more than 25 years, running writing workshops in academia and through city programming, in schools, in churches and online. He also has a background in theatre, history, tourism, and marketing. He was the former Marketing Director of the Yukon Arts Centre in Whitehorse, Yukon. An emerging artist and illustrator in watercolor and acrylic, he lives now in Dayton, Ohio.
(TW: this essay contains frank discussions about sex, sexuality, body image, religion and being queer.)
(a previous version of this essay originally appeared in Fat & Queer: An Anthology of Queer and Trans Bodies and Lives, ed. Morales, Grimm, Ferentini. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2021.)
I had a little art studio for one year. A place for all my paints, my canvases, my artistic dreams. A place to be alone, to create masterpieces, to rock out to music, to be myself, to grow and learn.
Then, a year later, the art studio was completely erased, as if it had never been there.
All the walls were taken down; the room became a much larger gallery. You couldn’t find it if you didn’t know where it had been. If you didn’t know my window, you couldn’t see any fingerprint of where I had been.
While the studio was there, that brief year, it changed my life. It gave me a better understanding of my body — something I had never really seen before. It gave me back my sexuality — something taken from me by evangelical churches. It let me see myself as a work of Art — something I never would have believed.
While I struggled to create art, the studio worked on creating me.
For decades, Front Street Studios in Dayton, OH, had used an old Singer Sewing Machine factory as living space for artists. A set of imposing red brick buildings, some two story, some three, with giant fifteen foot windows, sat next to a very active set of railroad tracks, with a river not far away. Over a few decades, the old factory had gone to seed, become unlivable, a place for drug deals and fire hazards. A few years before I got there, it was taken over by new management. The new owners cleaned it up, bought out whoever was still there, and turned it into studio spaces for artists, with open studios twice a month where people from Dayton could come through, wine in hand, and visit your studio and buy your Art. The new owners brought in live bands outside, sold burgers and hot dogs on those open studio days. You’d never have known the place was abandoned and trashed just a few years before.
Would you like to purchase a set of greeting cards made up of designs from the “Yukon Cornelius” series or my “Hairy Fairies in the Garden” series?
I sold these 5 for $20 at the show, allowing people to mix and match. Now I’ve made sets of them for you to buy and lowered the price.
I have 5 sets of 10 different cards (with envelopes) for purchase below. You order them through me. One set of 10 is $35, 2 sets are $60 ($30 a piece), 3 sets and above are $28 a piece (saving $21!)
Cards are 4.13″ x 5.83″ | 16pt paper thickness. I will use a rigid envelope to mail them in, or if multiple sets then a cushioned envelope. Allow 3 weeks for delivery.
Specify which set or sets you’d like to buy, then use Paypal or Zelle or Venmo at that same address to pay for the cards. Please add $5 for shipping and handling if in the US, $10 if anywhere else. All prices are in USD. ______________________________________________________________
YUKON CORNELIUS SET 1: 10 cards and envelopes, $40.
Yukon Cornelius SET 2: 10 cards and envelopes = $40
GET READY FOR SPRING WITH THESE HAIRY FAIRY SETS OF CARDS!
FAIRIES SET 1: 10 Cards and envelopes = $40
FAIRIES SET 2
FAIRIES SET 3
Thank you for your continued interest in my work, and I hope you enjoy these sets of cards!
Our bedrooms are private vaults–we keep our secrets in here. We only show them to people we trust. We don’t let just anyone in. Safe to be ourselves in our room, we relax knowing we are in a private sanctum. This room is locked tight, we think. Except… that balcony… that window.
“What is happening in this painting, Jerome??”
Why is it that, in movies, supernatural entities all seem to have a key to every balcony door and bedroom window? The strange things enter in through windows of the bedroom–whether it is Dracula at the balcony of Mina’s bedroom, or Frankenstein entering through the balcony to kill Victor’s wife, or George Hamilton’s Dracula in the 70s alighting on Susan St. James’ balcony saying with a sly smile as the breeze pushes the curtains away, “With you, never a quickie. Always a longie.” It is the beating on the bedroom window of the gnarly tree in Poltergeist, the giant vulture who brings a cage every night to the balcony of Andromeda to carry her away to see Calibos in Clash of the Titans, The Snowman coming to take James on a magical flight to the Arctic, Romeo climbing up to see Juliet, Aladdin alighting on Jasmine’s balcony, Salem Lot’s child at the window, Phantom of the Opera, Peter Pan, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
The bedroom, inaccessible? Every rogue, bandit, and monster knows how to get into an upstairs window! These three moth men have no trouble. Maybe Yukon left it open because it was hot. It makes sense that horror movies capitalize on bedroom windows–the only way into our security from the outside. But erotic and romantic stories also play with balconies–as the passage into the forbidden room, the access to the Lover that bypasses the guards, the parents, the doors. Romantic fantasies quiver on the possibility of love working hard to find us, especially when we’ve failed to find love before. Fantasies use them as launchpads and gateways to the mysterious and wondrous waiting just outside. “I can show you the world…”
Are we frightened or intrigued by these access points? Something has gotten in and sees us–sees the private things we hide! Oh my. Just what kinds of things are we letting in to our bedrooms?
Our thoughts are the real access points–the other window into our rooms, our sleep –and those we can control, sometimes.
***
I’ve had a lot of bad dreams and scary moments in my bedrooms. Being a sensitive, imaginative kid, I experienced my share of nighttime paralysis where I would see things in my room that would frighten me–still frighten me. Heads rising up the wall, children coming in and out of the closet, covers being pulled off by invisible hands. I’ve heard voices in my room fly down from the ceiling and whip past my ear telling me I was not safe. It looked like a fortress, didn’t it? Who let these things in?
However, I’ve also had some good dreams of someone coming to take me on journeys, flights, or back up to the Enterprise to live my new life. I’ve imagined lovers, or werewolves that just need a place to stay until the hunting party leaves the forest, or angels watching over me, or fun dreams of wandering through castles, or dogs that I know from the past finding me. Some of us pray in our bedrooms, allowing a safe protective spirit of God or Spirit to enter and comfort us. We want to have good things in our dreams, our thoughts, our hopes! We want to imagine the positive possibilities. We want to have choices about what gets in–what gets access–who sees us–what gets barred.
***
This was my second painting in the Yukon series, back in art school. The surprise on Yukon’s face! The three moth men coming in through the window to scare him?? to cuddle with him?? I got a lot of kidding by my fellow artists about the magically-supported sheets up against his legs. I swear I just didn’t get the folds right, and now it looks like something else is holding them up. How much fun it was to create this painting!–kind of a taboo for me to break. A giant naked man. My first. I still get asked if this is my body. Why do people want to know? That’s a very private question! I think they want to know because they assume I’m making the private public and that I want public question about what should be unknown. They think they’ve seen something private from my bedroom. They think I’ve given them access to a private fantasy! HAHA, they say! I’ve let them in. Any question is okay now….
Well, mothmen coming in my window, hmm; it is a nicer thought than the fears I used to have about things in my bedroom. I used to be afraid to go to sleep because of recurring nightmares. But I’ve gotten into the habit of thinking of awesome things happening–or reading happier, cozier, fantasy books before bed, or watching something light and fun before I sleep. I fill my room with fantasy and imagination before I sleep. I laugh.
Our dream life and our fantasy life need to crowd out our Fear life. If we have to think about the future in the face of the unknown, let it be warm, inviting, magical and mystical things that mean us no harm. The fantasies (or horrors) we allow into our minds color the way we experience the world–as a place of hope or harm around every corner. They can give us good sleep or no sleep. I choose to believe that there is hope around the corner because I want to open up my window to the fantasies and the magic and be vulnerable to the possibility of joy.
May good thoughts and good fantasies fill your minds and rooms this holiday season!
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This is part of the “The Bedroom is Our Living Room,” as part of “The Further (Queer) Adventures of Yukon Cornelius” series of paintings I did, reimagining the prospector from the Christmas special as a gay man whose whole life is helping “Hiddens” (or as other people put it, Monsters) as they adapt to life in a world of often fearful humans. My way of talking about queer issues and queer life.
Hairy Fairies in the gardens! The Gardens of the Mythbegotten, my current name for this little bit of joy and peace in the midst of 2020 chaos, is the Patreon place where I create small watercolor paintings of fairies playing and misbehaving and having a great time. Occasionally satyrs, Minotaurs, centaurs join them…. and it’s light hearted. I sell the paintings, and I also have really cool incentives to stay in the gardens for awhile.
Leaf-Surfing!
Here are some of the things you can get:
All the photos of my paintings as they are completed. You’ll see them first before I post them on Facebook or Squarespace or Redbubble so that if you want to buy one, you can. You get first choice.
Process photos—how I make them and what my thoughts were going into the painting.
Little meditations on art (famous art, but also my friends’ art because they deserve some cool essays AND you get to find out about art you might not know about that is deserving a look!
Weekly Tarot for Creators—a spread of cards for your week as a creator, with enough to inspire your work, OR to give you a head’s up about the week AS a creator. What energies are there for you as a creator?
At some levels you get a card mailed to you every month, a print, of one of the paintings.
Time-lapse videos of a painting
Stickers!
Stories about the Gardens with new illustrations
T-shirts, mugs, buttons!
Commissioned pieces!
These gardens are queer friendly, racially diverse, age diverse, and body diverse, and sex positive. While there are no depictions of sex happening—the often nude bodies and playfulness of characters suggest it happens.
For $1 a month, you can have my pictures emailed to you, and the other tiers are affordable for so much garden goodies! Check out the Patreon and see what’s happening in the Garden!