Self portrait. Study. Acrylic on canvas board. 8x10
I am 43 years old and I have spent a lifetime trying to fit in, trying to belong, trying to do whatever it is that “God wanted me to do” with my life. Tonight, as I painted, it hit me. I’ve come full circle. I am now doing what I set out to do when I was 15. In fact, I’ve been doing it all along and never stopped. Never mind my “day job”. That’s just an American burden that I carry. Have you ever known an American to ask someone, “Who are you?” No. That’s because they never say that. They always ask, “What do you DO?”
For years I thought I was crazy, convinced I had a personality disorder. Because I have never defined myself by what I do for a living. When I was 15, I ran away from home. For two days. Nobody even realized I was gone. But over that two days, I discovered that I wasn’t really cut out for college and so set about to do the whole starving artist routine. For the next 2 years, I fantasized about going to Paris, starving in a garret somewhere, living on cheap wine and bagels. (Bagels are better for you than croissants.) But then I discovered the punk scene, and thought I should go to Berlin instead and spend my youth wasted on Apfelkorn and cigarettes. That seemed like a lot more fun. Eventually, I did make it to Paris, but never did make any breaththroughs in Berlin. I guess I was fated to be “The Outsider” even then, in spite of my flawless German. These days I’m lucky if I can manage to order a beer. And I don’t even drink beer.
When I was 17, I ran away to the US and promptly found out that although my passport said I was American, I was as far from American as you could probably get without committing treason. (Which never appealed to me. I’m too loyal. Even if the object of my affection hates me, I am incapable of “cheating”. This goes for my country, as well as my boyfriends and husbands. Don’t ask. )
So anyways, I became a makeup artist (glamour and special effects) and perfumer and then spent the next ten years starving for art, and running around Los Angeles, Hollywood, then back to Europe for awhile, and then finally, when I couldn’t “run” anymore, reconnected with my parents who lived here, in this God-forsaken place of Nevada, home ot modern day Soddom and Gommorah. So after that decision, I spent another 15 years in a state of arrested development : teenage angst and creative anger, trapped inside an adult body who had “responsibilities”.
I drifted from job to job (mostly getting fired or “constructively discharged”) and when I wasn’t performing (I was also a singer and actress) I was filling up my bank account by doing these awful things that society required me to do in order to prove that I was worthy of existence. Because that’s what counts in America. No one cares who you are. They only care about what you DO, what you produce at the end of the day and it better not be any kind of frivilous thing like “art”, like paintings, or a perfume. An “honest day’s work” has nothing in common with creating beauty, or honoring God, or honoring the soul. It’s about making money. And that’s exactly why the American Dream, if it ever existed in the first place, has failed. It didn’t value the people who created it.
The American Dream, as a concept, was a work of ART. Nothing else. It was an ideal and it became a means to punish people for “not being practical”. Everywhere in America, you hear people say, “Well, if he would just get up off his butt and go get a …” or my personal favorite “He/she is a drain on the system. They don’t DO anything. He/she just sits around making pretty pottery (or whatever) and expects us to hand a life to them…” People in America do not value artists. They are pretty good at rewarding people for giving them sexual fantasy and mental rape however. (Hollywood has never had it so good and it has nothing to do with “artists” and “art”.)
Um…no, we don’t expect you to hand us anything. (Why on earth would we expect compassion and understanding from YOU, someone with so few diplomatic skills that you can’t get even get your point across without insulting people?) We did sort of expect however, that you would have some basic respect for our skills, our vision, our way of seeing the world, which by the way, you have designated as the sole domain and proeprty of Hollywood, and I can’t imagine a more irresponsible custodian.
Anyway, all along, I kept on at various forms of art because frankly, it’s what I “do”. It’s who I am. It’s what I am and I can’t stop doing it unless I want to stop eating, breathing, sleeping and existing. If I do not “do” art, in some form, then I am fast on the road to slow suicide by corporate means. (Workaholism)
Tonight I was painting. And I had an epiphany. I’m not really a property manager. I’m not a clerk in a law firm. I’m not a closing agent. I’m not a waitress. I’m not a legal administrator.
I’m a starving artist. That’s what I’ve always been. I’m a success because I’m doing exactly what I set out to do when I was 15 years old. And like many other artists, I’ll be famous after I’m dead. You’ll see. I’ll bet you $100 bucks.
WIP. Unfinished. The Road "Home" (my parents house). Acrylic on canvas. 18x24
Exhausted. Need a face lift, and a vacation. (Bet I can get one of those in Mexico too.) Evicting 2 tenants this week. Normally, it would break my heart, but this isn’t about non-payment. One is being evicted for being a public menace and the other for being a health hazard. (Fried roaches anyone?)
I confess: I can’t wait till they are gone. May God bless them and keep them far, far away from us.
La Donna Velata - Raphael - c. 1516.
In other news, I’m going to go to see the Raphael exhibit at the Nevada Museum of Art on Feb. 25 when they are opening the exhibit to all, for free. I can’t wait! Just to stand in the same room with “Girl With the Veil” is a huge honor. I can’t afford the ticket price, so I have to wait. (waiting…waiting….)
Here’s my latest attempt at a portrait. I am actually happy with this first, run study. Since I have a photo of the model, I will be working some more on it. Debbie had a fascinating face. She looks like a cow girl, a dancer, a professional and a mom, all rolled into one. I loved painting this.
Debbie, this week's beauty. Thank you so much!
Debbie
Acrylic on canvas board
11×14
Good ni……..
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Last night we were allowed to pick our own subject and paint from photos. So I selected my favorite photo of Patriarch Pavle of Serbia. For those not familiar with this man, please don’t panic. I’m not trying to proselytize. It’s just that we were told to pick someone we found “fascinating”, in a dramatic pose, with dramatic lighting. It’s not finished — I still have to go back, fix the hand and the cane, as well as his shoulder, and some other points (his nose is a bit too “Roman” but the right length. Just have to reshape it.) . The main thing during the class was to get the basic facial likeness, and silhouette. It still needs a lot of detail, touch up, fixing before I am ready to do it again on a real canvas. This is called “doing a study” — sort of a “dress rehearsal”. But I think it’s a good basic start. I comfort myself by repeating this: “Van Gogh only sold one painting in his entire lifetime.”
Rough study of Patriarch Pavle of Serbia. Acrylic on gesso study board. 12x15
Regarding Patriarch Pavle himself, he is known among many humble, simple people as “The Walking Saint”. He went without shoes for many years, because he said, “I will not wear shoes until all children of Serbia have shoes.” (He went on to explain both Christian and Muslim children.) He would not ride in cars until “everyone in Serbia has a car.” He rode the bus on longer trips (more than 15 miles — amazing for his advanced years of 75+) and he was known to stand in front of both mosques and churches alike, during the Balkan war. Even many Muslims loved Patriarch Pavle and attended his funeral in November 2009. So, as for “fascinating” I think Pavle certainly qualifies. I can think of no one else right now who captures my imagination as he does. In this cynical culture that idolizes Brangelina and shallow, vapid entertainment celebrities I am humbled and cowed by the courage of this man.
He pursued a life of peace in a world obsessed by war , genocide, and racism. That’s what I call “fascinating”.
Patriarch Pavle of Serbia reposed in the Lord, (otherwise known as “passed away”/”recieved into the Lord’’s hands”/and “passed from this mortal life” on November 15, 2009 at the dignified and grand age of 95. May his memory, and his lessons to humanity, be eternal. And may our humble souls be thankful to God that he was with us for so long, to teach his lessons to so many. May all of us remember his example.
And if I may be so bold as to ask, dear Lord, and dear Patriarch Pavle, please grant me the humility and the courage to paint a true likeness, which will be a testament to the “peace on earth, goodwill toward men” that the humble Saint preached daily, through word, deed and in heart.
Every now and then, when my life reaches a fever pitch, I feel the need to simply check in with the Queen and good old Whats-His-Name for an annual reality check. For the benefit of my many friends who manage to keep up with my whirlwind activities here at River Rat Apartments, I thought I would recap this week with some unusual fare. I am donning my newly minted (and wet) reporter’s derby and I am currently smoking a truly putrid cigar, while typing away, one finger at a time on my keyboard, in true hard-nosed , journalistic style. (This cigar makes even my nose itch!)
Disclaimer: Spell check has been used. I am a dyslexic. Any errors are solely the fault of Microsoft, WordPress, and Google. Qualifying Disclaimer: Being a dyslexic makes me a hard bed-fellow. Don’t expect any sympathy if you are deaf.
First, the op-ed piece: I am increasingly convinced that Brangelina should break up into two, separate, complete and uninterrupted wholes known as “Bran” and “Gelina”. Together they are somewhat like Cheez-Whiz over Dream Whip, atop a Ritz cracker. Separately however, they will do much greater good, for the greater good. If they break up, the American public (nee the world at large) will then have hordes of free time in which to pursue greatly intriguing matters such as just how for example, a break-up beard should be worn and whether or not it’s appropriate to mix adopted children with one’s natural parents. (By Jolie’s logic regarding her own children, and her own father, Mr. Pitt should engage the services of a very good attorney forthwith. I’ve always wanted to use the word “forthwith” in a sentence. Thanks Brad!)
I am also informed that Prince Phillip (God bless him and save him) deigned to retrieve a piece of litter on a church lawn last Sunday.
Of him, Ted Bailey, another man in the crowd waiting outside the church gates who saw the duke’s actions added: “It was a very environmentally friendly thing for the Duke to do. I admire him for picking up litter. And he wasn’t wearing gloves. You never know where these things have been.” (Did this man really say that? Really?)
In any case, this should make HRM very proud indeed, and all the free nations of the world should be thankful, and appreciative of the Prince’s activities and concern for “going green”. I simply cannot recall the last time a Royal picked up the trash and took it out. And in spite of my current humble circumstances, I’ve actually known a few.
(Hey Clarisse, how’s Prince Whats-His-Name? You know, that lovely man from “Yugoslavia”. Oh right, it’s Serbia now, and the country is practically in shreds over “displaced” Albanians. What on earth are ethnic Albanians doing in Serbia? I thought they had their own land called Albania? Forgive me – I forgot: The Serbs should simply keel over and die on command by NATO goat herders and should never have the temerity to claim their homeland. Does anyone think the same of Palestinians these days? I thought not. Just the Serbs. )
I am at a loss with these events looming so heavily upon my soul that I don’t think I shall ever recover my wits. At least, I do not seem moved sufficiently enough to take out the trash and suddenly discover my hidden attraction to Gelina. Frankly, she makes me sick and I don’t blame the GLT community for being more than a little embarrassed by her. I’m embarrassed that she’s a Goodwill Ambassador for the U.N. I mean, surely the American public could have roused itself to choose a more responsible representative? I can think of several worthy, professional women:
Maya Angelou, Diane Sawyer, Condoleeza Rice, Lucrezia Bori. (Okay, so she’s dead now.) How about my old high school chum Shahin who is currently an MD and “fellow” at Harvard and seeking cures for African women, men and children dying of AIDS? She would be good. She’s not a Christian, a Muslim or a Jew — she’s a Bahai (well, actually I haven’t checked on that lately but chances are pretty good she is still peaceful, non-partisan and pacificist.) Seriously, anyone but Gelina. I cannot imagine a worse choice and I can’t really understand it. This was a woman who said, “
“I think I’ve got too many skeletons in my closet for politics.” (Angelina Jolie). Um, I don’t think those are skeletons. They are hybrid, green, zombie monsters created out of a genocide of male souls.)
If I sound a little frustrated, bitter and angry, I think it’s because I am. You’ll remember our acronym “HALT” (for those that don’t just humour me): Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired? I am all of those. And the last thing I needed today was for my 14 year old to remind me that she “needs” a new Samsung messenger 8 phone, and that eating Goldfish and chocolate pudding for supper was okay. (I was at an art class. So shoot me for being “neglectful”.)
I had better stop now. If the rumours are true, and I keep going, I might ruin my chances with Bran. Brad. Whats-His-Name.
Yeah. Back to my life at RiverRat Apartments.
River Rat Apartments - Where the Roaches Run Free and the Inmates Run the Asylum
Haiti holds the heart of the world now, and this is a very good thing. She has captured our sorrow, our communal well of emotion, and our global instinct to preserve, protect and to nurture. I am so proud to be part of a global humanity that gives what it can, where it can, and to be committed to a better world for ourselves, for our children, and for many generations to come.
As a Christian, I do not “trust in princes, mere mortals powerless to save.” (Psalm 146) but I do believe in the basic goodness of all people and their basic desire to do good work, to help the poor, to support the powerless, to speak for the disenfranchised.
What is amazing is the ability of those same poor, those same powerless, those same disenfranchised, to reach deep into their own pockets and give what they have to Haiti. This is the classic parable of the New Testament, the “Widow’s Mite”. An old woman, penniless, gave her last penny to help the poor. Of her, Christ said,
“Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the treasury;
44for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had (G)to live on.”
I had the good fortune, the amazing experience of witnessing this first hand. I work in a low income housing apartment complex. (And it’s full of “complexes” believe me.)
I work for a very kind man, who owns the property and who believes that everyone, regardless of income, deserves a decent, clean and safe place to live. So although our property isn’t 5 star, it is worlds away from the more common “slums” that constitute “low income housing” in the States. Although it is old, and we do not have washers/dryers inside the apartments, or any other luxury things, our apartments are clean, well maintained and well kept.
But getting back to my story: like everyone else, I’ve been thinking of Haiti, and talking about the disaster and how to help, through e-mail, blogs and all these other things. And yesterday, one of my poorest tenants came to me and said, “I want to ask your permission to go door to door and see if we can raise some money for Haiti.” Ordinarily I can’t allow this sort of thing, but c’mon it’s for Haiti! So I said “yes” and we also put a bowl on the counter.
In 2 days we raised $75.00 in cash from people who truly do not have it to give. For them, it means going without food, or being late on electric bills, or giving up some other necessity. They gave MORE than all the millionaires, because they gave all they had to live on. How blessed am I to live among such lovely people.
I have been entrusted with this $75 in cash, to take it to the bank and give it as a wire transfer to Doctors Without Borders. My tenants chose this charity, because they said, “We don’t have medical care. But we want them (Haiti) to have it.”
I don’t think I have ever been trusted with so much responsibility, so great a task, in my entire, pitiful, pathetic life. I will not fail them.
Injured children, lost, hurt and confused in Port Au Prince. These are OUR children. Can't find the credits for this photo. For now, in this case, who cares about copyright?
I’m taking classes at the Nevada Museum of Art. It’s a very exciting time for me as an artist, and although I find that I am rusty with my brush strokes, and clumsy in my technique, it is coming back to me, slowly. Our instructor is a truly gifted artist, and I ‘m very grateful to study with the Museum, under sponsorship from the EL Cord Foundation. What great work the Foundation is doing in our community, enabling many artists to continue their education, even in this terrible economy? I’m very grateful and very blessed.
Portrait study - 1/19/2010 - SLN Acrylic in traditional 7 layers. 12 x 16 gesso study board
This is the portrait study we did tonight. We began with the underpainting in monochrome (burnt sienna). Then we began our layers. I found that my total composition was entirely too tight, and when I looked at the artist next to me, found she had done something so free, so wild, I wish I had been more assertive in my choice of perspective, and less inhibited in the class. For a moment, I wished I were someone else, with someone else’s eyes. Someone better. But what do you expect from an extreme introvert, an INFJ, no less?
Anyway, the very interesting part of this entire exercise is this : my portrait doesn’t really look like “Sunshine”, our lovely model. And that was so very disappointing for me. I was upset about my inability to capture her.
Instead, she is a dead ringer for my baby sitter, Liza, from Spain. When I was about 8 or 9. She took us to see Disney’s “Aristocats” (El Aristo Gato) My spirit felt disturbed in a mild way during the class. I chalked it up to “nerves” — my instructor complimented me and made no corrections/suggestions, only encouragement. (He probably saw through my “tough exterior”. It sucks to be so transparent around other artists.) I didn’t really realize the likeness until I got to home and looked through my photo albums.
I “knew” it wasn’t “Sunshine” but that I had “seen her somewhere before”. I am amazed at the human ability to retain details out of grief. I have not thought about Liza in over 30 years. God bless her, wherever she may be. She is still alive in my heart!
What do you know, my former career as a closing agent (experience with lending, banking, etc.) has come in useful. It occurred to me with all the tweeting going on about texting donations to Haiti, that it can take several weeks for those donations to actually hit the ground. I am not trying to make anyone feel bad about their texts (I sent one too) but I am just sharing what I know for the benefit of those who might want their donations to be a little more immediate.
When you send a text “YELE” to 501501 for example, those funds are billed to your phone bill. But the phone carrier does not immediately make those funds available. Instead, after you pay your bill, those funds are then distributed to the charity. In addition, for the time that your carrier is processing those funds, it is also collecting interest on it, which they then keep. Not very nice, in my opinion, especially in this case. Some carriers have committed, or are in the process of doing so, of waiving those types of activities, but that takes time.
So, if you want your donations to reach Haiti sooner, and I sure do, my suggestion is to :
a) go to the website of the charity you choose, or call them, directly. If you use your credit card, these funds will be more immediately available, but also write a letter to your bank/credit card company and tell them what you are doing. Most banks are trying to speed up the transition time for these funds, to benefit Haiti. US Bank for example, my bank, says that if you call them first and tell them what you’re doing, they will wire funds immediately.
b) Ask your bank if they are selling pre-paid Visa/Mastercard “credit cards”. If they are, you can buy one, give it to your bank and ask them to donate the funds on it to Haiti. Most banks will figure out a way to waive all fees for the transaction.
c) Use the old fashioned method at your work place: Collect, good, old fashioned, hard, cold cash. Call around and find a bank that will accept the deposit as a “wire transfer” to the charity of your choice. Again, as long as you’re dealing with human beings who have hearts, there should be a way to waive all fees. The trouble in these situations, I’ve found is that you have to find a person who is: 1) willing to think outside the box 2) willing to risk a little visibility in their workplace by going to “fight” for you. Sometimes it’s difficult. Sometimes not. But always worth it. Especially to those who are suffering NOW and can’t afford to wait 6 weeks for assistance. In Haiti, 6 minutes is a lifetime, and can make the difference between living and dying.
Who’s got time for a 6 week “processing” time???
Haiti, Pat Robertson and Twitter: Or How To Say Mean, But True, Things in 140 characters or less.
Twitter is buzzing with all sorts of things related to the earthquake in Haiti. I’m rivited by the tweets of RAMHaiti, theparkerreport, MartineATF, and VitoBranco, among others. Interwoven in all the “live” tweets from Ground Zero (Port au Prince), I am reading the tweet searches on Pat Robertson. Some are funny, some are rather lame responses, but the one thing that strikes me: there is actual response!
Whenever someone in this country does or says something colossally stupid, the American public is certainly there to “condemn” what he/she does or says. And this is a really good thing, because in other cultures, no one speaks up, nobody “condemns” the viciousness of evil-minded people. There’s just a lot of polite covering of mouths, or a discreet change in topic, or an embarrassed set of downcast eyes. Sometimes this serves, but most of the time, it only allows evil to prevail and to continue in places where shockingly, it is always the poor and the helpless that end up battered.
I said to someone else earlier that I really do have to make a list of things I’m grateful for about the US because often, as a result of my own personal issues with being an American, I can see how I might offend many Americans and even sound quite “anti-American”. This is not the case, and so today I want to say:
I am proud of American Twitterers (and those Tweeters from other countries, of course) but especially of American ones today, because they seem to have unanimously put Pat Robertson in his place. They came together, regardless of political party, and condemned the insensitive schmuck and dare I say it, criminal, for what he is : a bigoted jerk. Americans also flooded the internet waves with Tweets on how to donate to Haiti and how to help Haiti in practical ways. They spent all day yesterday re-tweeting the text addresses for Yele and the Red Cross, as well as Doctor’s without Borders.
But getting back to our Moron of the Month, Pat Robertson: I was really impressed by the following tweets:
@awmyl Call Pat Robertson’s “700 Club” @ 1 (800) 759-0700 and tell them what u think of PR and what a wanker he is. It costs them about $1 to pick up each 800 call.
@paulscheer: Pat Robertson just clarified his statement about Haiti, he meant to say Jay Leno has clearly made a pact with the devil.
OhTheHumanatee Pat Robertson: Advancing the merits of Atheism one crazy rant at a time.
@bobbyhundreds: I can’t wait for Pat Robertson to get to Heaven and find out that God is a big Haitian dude.
@jackmooring Just read your tweet about Pat Robertson. I’m glad he didn’t say it the way people think he did.
@EricAdams Pat Robertson is halfway through the two-part plan laid out by Oral Roberts. 1. Waste a lifetime on asshat commentary. 2. Die.
For those who care, my personal response was: @tckartist Theologically speaking, Pat Robertson is an ass. He’s also not a Christian and never was.
And then there was a whole bunch of Christians wringing their hands, and ranting about how Pat Robertson doesn’t “speak for them”. All of which just comes off as sounding like they protest too much, and it feels like that distancing game people play when someone else farts.
To make matters even worse, some Christians on Twitter, WordPress, and other places actually spent CHARACTER SPACE on the idea that we should all look within, forgive him, move on, stop talking about it, and just all out “love Pat Robertson” to death until he repents of his evil ways and learns the “true” way of Christ.
The Most Over-Rated “Christian” Blog Post on Twitter
Well, I’m sorry to be the one Christian who disappoints everyone but it seems to be my lot in life so here goes:
Dear Don (and everyone who just wants “love Pat Robertson into the Kingdom”):
Get serious.
Quit being a coward, a hypocrite and pandering to the politically correct “faith” that you have decided to call Christianity. It is sub-Christianity at best and here’s the bald naked truth:
Pat Robertson is not just your average garden variety idiot. He is an evil, greedy, non-practicing religionist con-man who invents traditions of men and preaches “another gospel”. He has also gotten very rich by doing it. Pat Robertson is not a Christian. Christianity is not a faith that allows for self identification. (If you doubt this, remember that guy Paul who decided he wanted to be an Apostle? He had the devil of a time getting the other Apostles to agree.) Calling one’s self Christian does not make it so.
If you are a Christian, then giving some weak apology for Christianity and saying that “Pat Robertson doesn’t speak for me” makes about as much sense as saying, “Well, I’m a Democrat and Tony Blair doesn’t speak for me.” It’s stupid, is incredibly lame, and only gives strength to the idea that Pat Robertson is a Christian to start with. HE ISN”T.
As for WWJD in response to Pat Robertson, I suspect Jesus would re-iterate the following:
34“(A)You brood of vipers, how can you, being evil, speak what is good? (B)For the mouth speaks out of that which fills the heart.35“(C)The good man brings out of his good treasure what is good; and the evil man brings out of his evil treasure what is evil.36“But I tell you that every careless word that people speak, they shall give an accounting for it in (D)the day of judgment.37“For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
So here I am, calling a spade a spade: Pat Robertson is not a Christian. He is not Orthodox, either big or little ‘o’ and he is so far from preaching the Gospel, he might as well be a motivational speaker for Big Tobacco.
So, please, if you have to go on Twitter and you feel the need to defend Christianity in the face of Pat Robertson’s incredibly stupid and ass-wipe remarks, please just say the following or something similar:
Pat Robertson is not a Christian. He’s a con-man. Nothing more. Stop calling him a Christian and stop legitimizing his “faith”. It’s ridiculous and stupid.
Thank you.
I feel better. Now, back to why I’m grateful for America:
2. her people are really cool when it comes to unmasking frauds like Pat Robertson.
3. In America, it’s okay to say that Pat Robertson is not a Christian.
4. … you get the idea.
Thanks America. I love you.
This is a fascinating article from the New York Times.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/magazine/10psyche-t.html?pagewant…
The article discusses how the USA has exported its ideas, theories, and diagnosis of mental illness around the world, and how those things have affected (negatively) or impacted local cultures and indigenous people.
Just as exporting “religions” into indigenous cultures is often seen as harmful, it is possible that our ideas about mental illness are also causing more suffering around the world —
On a personal level, I can say that although I have never really had the language, or the skills to express it, I have always thought this. It was made clear to me when I came back to the US, had some problems and went to see a counselor.
The counselor, rather than appreciating my rather “unique” childhood, went on a rant against my parents for “dragging me around the world”. She kept looking for pathological signs inside of me (in places I’m not even sure exist – LOL!) that I hated my parents. And additionally, I always got the feeling she WANTED me to hate my parents and finally I told her to shove it and never went back. I asked her if she hated HER parents, and she got pretty defensive. So I can only guess she really did hate her parents and just someone else to hate theirs too. (*sigh*)
Things went fine for awhile. Then I got depressed again, and I went to another counselor. This time, the counselor wanted me to “admit” that my behavior in relationships was “high handed” and “impersonal”. Wha?? I told him he was full of it too. Just because I don’t behave like a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, (or talk like one) doesn’t make me impersonal and high handed. (I prefer to see it as “deep” rather than shallow, and reserved rather than superficially friendly. 
)
What are we doing to the world???? I hope that in the future, American psychiatry and psychology professions will learn to keep their biases to themselves and start treating people more humanely.
