Colors of Compassion

I find myself obsessed with makeup as a distraction from what’s going on in America–and from what’s going on in my own life.

I don’t think it’s right that people claim the word trauma has been misused to refer to things that aren’t traumatic.

Only the person that’s the victim gets to decide the level of intensity of what they’ve experienced.

Ibram X. Kendi in a Twitter post stated that how Mr. Toupee interacted with LL Cool Joe at the debate could be traumatizing to viewers who have been victims of abuse or violence or other hardship.

I have gotten flak for talking about beauty and fashion in Left of the Dial. Critics railed against how I turned to a clothes rack to cope when I had an illness in my twenties.

Yet today as then I find myself running to open my closet doors to choose outfits when I’m outraged.

I spend an hour on the Sephora website viewing eye shadow palettes. Nothing catches my eye.

The point is that a person should believe in themselves when no one else does. And when self-esteem is hard to come by–either by looking in the mirror or because you don’t see yourself reflected in institutions of power–it’s time to give yourself love.

I say: do what’s healthy that makes you feel good. Stay away from energy vampires that suck the life out of you.

In the current climate you can’t read a social media feed or lift a fork at a table without people getting into a war of contempt with each other.

In fact this can be traumatizing. There’s a crisis of compassion going on.

This is why I believe in beauty: my mother takes off her mask and I see she’s been wearing lipstick under her face covering.

No one can see it yet she knows it’s there. It must cheer her up.

My Th(ink) eyeliner givers me the power to draw a line.

Think–I would tell anyone–think before you speak.

Postcard from the Ledge

The postcard shown above I took off a ledge in a bookstore.

It’s a reminder to me and a warning to challenge the status quo.

Living through the pandemic [the outbreak hasn’t gone away] I find myself pulled away from conforming.

I resist conforming to societal rules and norms.

What changed?

In my Republican neighborhood most of the people walking down the street have open faces. They don’t cover their face with a mask or bandanna.

Seeing this brazen contempt for respecting the health of others got me thinking: Who should I want to or try to impress at this point in my life?

I go outside wearing a red or black bandanna like a gunslinger in the Old Wild West. I walk in the middle of the street to avoid the people who haven’t covered their faces.

Seeing open-faced yahoos put people’s health at risk–as if the COVID-19 outbreak is no real threat–was the catalyst for my resistance to accepting the status quo in society.

Over 100,000 people have died from the COVID-19 outbreak.

Wearing a mask is a sign of respect.

It eludes me what part of “I respect you and you respect me” the bare-faced folk don’t get.

I will end here by telling readers:

Resist living for self-interest and personal gain at the expense of others.

Resist following the trend of “everyone out for themselves.”

Dare to have compassion.

Having compassion might not be in fashion.

Yet I submit the alternative is no option.