Dolls for adults. Everywhere I look these days I find these arty, quirky dolls which are clearly created for an adult market. (No, not that kind of adult market, you perv). A couple of weeks ago, while walking in the Queen & Spadina area, I spotted a store window chock-a-block with such curiosities as the Living Dead Dolls and even a Tony Montana doll (Al Pacino's character from Scarface).

Okay, I admit it. Were I a childless hipster living in bohemian T-dot, it's entirely likely that I'd stuff my Queen West loft with items such as the Frida Kahlo doll (see photo). Who can resist the charms of a doll with a unibrow?

It's 11 p.m. on a Tuesday night, but I'm too wired to sleep. I've just emerged from my basement studio, where I've spent a large portion of the day drawing an image of my bare breast. You wouldn't think I had that much breast to occupy hours of drawing, would you? Somedays my pencil goes over... and over... and over an area trying to acheive that perfect blend. The good news is that the sought-after perfect blend was finally, painstakingly acheived.

I'm working on a big drawing featuring myself nursing Ridley. It's perhaps a little surprising that it wasn't until after I bore a child that I felt the need to create semi-nude portraits of myself, stretch marks and all. An unexpected outcome of motherhood has been a much greater appreciation of my body, ultimately resulting in an improved body image. The fact that my body delivered a new life into this world, then manufactured food for said new life, is completely empowering. I am woman....yattayattayatta... Perhaps the experience of childbirth itself, with it's loosening of boundaries as far as the "intimate" areas of your body are concerned, prompts one to reexamining previously held notions of one's own body. The experience of public breastfeeding certainly calls into question societal notions of "decency" -- or, as I refer to it, prudishness. We should celebrate the acheivements of our bodies, not cover them up as something shameful.

Sheesh, ain't I sounding like a hippie-dippie granola-eatin' Earth Mama? I'd better get a handle on myself before I leap into the garden to perform some sort of pagan moon dance.

Speaking of earth mothers, can you believe that Ridley's 15-months old and I'm still nursing him? I surely didn't plan to be nursing a toddler, but things just worked out that way. I'm certain that the day Ridley indicates he wants to wean, I'm going to be totally bummed. Yet another aspect of motherhood that I didn't anticipate.

Life, man, it's just one big classroom.

That kid of mine just keeps popping up in my artwork. Here's a recent intaglio print entitled "Ridley dismantles Mondrian", for reasons which I believe are self-evident.

Who's Mondrian, you ask? Piet Mondrian was a Dutch modernist painter, best known for his highly structured, grid-like paintings that he dubbed "neoplasticism". I thought it'd be crazy, whimsical fun to imagine a small child pulling the modernist grid apart like so many brightly coloured building-blocks. 'Cause you know, that is precisely what a toddler would do, given the opportunity.

How old is Robert Smith? My guess is close to 50 years old. The Robert Smith to whom I refer is, of course, the frontman of The Cure. If you still haven't a clue who this individual is then a) you didn't attend highschool in the 80's; or b) you've been sequestered away in a cultural vacuum for the past 25+ years. In either case, you'll probably want to skip this post.

The reason for the above question is The Cure's official web site which I stumbled across the other day. Like all good surfing experiences, I'm not completely sure how I arrived there. Ah, memories! Robert, you make-up wearing, impish Goth boy-man! What a crush I had on you in highschool. What exactly was your appeal? Was it your compelling androgyny? Was it the fact that your shrieks and moans sounded every bit as miserable as I felt? [insert ironic wink here]. I have to admit, though, I was never quite sure whether I wanted to smear your lipstick ever more so with passionate kisses or to hand you a lipliner and give you some tips on achieving that flawless pout.

Robert, I sincerely apologize for not including your album "Disintegration" in my "Top Ten Pop Music Albums of All-Time" list from several postings ago. Clearly, this was an oversight on my part. You're in good company, however, amongst other glaring omissions such as The Clash's "London Calling", Kate Bush's "Never For Ever" and just about anything from Nick Cave. Guess I should've expanded the list to a top 20. "Disintegration" contains my three favourite Cure songs: "Fascination Street", "Love Song" and "Lullaby". "Fascination Street" has one of the best bass lines in a pop song ever, second only to Radiohead's "National Anthem". I'm even willing to overlook "Pictures of You", which, imho, is one of your lamest songs.

Just one thing, Rob. Now that you're approaching the age of a pensioner, I'm not certain that the whole messy-hair-and-smeared-cosmetics thing is working. Nothing personal. I only mention it 'cause I care ;-)

Recently, I was invited by a "sex-positive feminist collective" called The PeepShow Collective to submit some artwork for an exhibition they are mounting (pun intended) in a Detroit art gallery. Previous to this invite, I was vaguely familiar with the term "sex-positive feminist" and understood only that it's philosophy opposed the anti-pornography feminism of such 80's luminaries as Catharine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin. However, I was curious to learn a more specific definition, and delved a little further.

Here's the definition as given by Wikipedia:

"Sex-positive feminism, sometimes known as pro-sex feminism, sex-radical feminism, or sexually liberal feminism, is a movement that was formed in the early 1980s. Some became involved in the sex-positive feminist movement in response to efforts by anti-pornography feminists, such as Catharine MacKinnon, Andrea Dworkin and Dorchen Leidholdt, to put pornography at the center of a feminist explanation of women's oppression (McElroy, 1995). Other, less academic sex-positive feminists became involved not in opposition to other feminists, but in direct response to what they saw as patriarchal control of sexuality. Authors who have advocated sex-positive feminism include Susie Bright, Betty Dodson, and Pat Califia.

Sex-positive feminism centers around the idea that sexual freedom is an essential component of women's freedom. As such, sex-positive feminists oppose legal or social efforts to control sexual activities between consenting adults, whether these efforts are initiated by the government, other feminists, opponents of feminism, or any other institution. They embrace sexual minority groups, endorsing the value of coalition-building with members of groups targeted by sex-negativity. Sex-positive feminism is connected with the sex-positive movement.

Gayle Rubin (Rubin, 1984) summarizes the conflict over sex within feminism:

...There have been two strains of feminist thought on the subject. One tendency has criticized the restrictions on women's sexual behavior and denounced the high costs imposed on women for being sexually active. This tradition of feminist sexual thought has called for a sexual liberation that would work for women as well as for men, The second tendency has considered sexual liberalization to be inherently a mere extension of male privilege. This tradition resonates with conservative, anti-sexual discourse.

The cause of sex-positive feminism brings together anti-censorship activists, queer activists, feminist scholars, sex radicals, producers of pornography and erotica, among others (though not all members of these groups are necessarily both feminists and sex-positive people). Sex-positive feminists reject the vilification of male sexuality that they attribute to many radical feminists, and instead embrace the entire range of human sexuality. They argue that the patriarchy limits sexual expression and are in favor of giving people of all genders more sexual opportunities, rather than restricting sexual expression in the form of pornography (Queen, 1996). Sex-positive feminists generally reject sexual essentialism, defined by (Rubin, 1984) as "the idea that sex is a natural force that exists prior to social life and shapes institutions". Rather, they see sexual orientation and gender as social constructs that are heavily influenced by society.

Sex-Radical feminists in particular come to a sex-positive stance from a deep distrust in the patriachy's ability to secure women's best interest in sexually limiting laws."

Here's the link if you're desperate to learn more: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex-positive_feminism

The reason why it isn't advisable to leave a bottle of moisturizer within reach of a toddler...

Yes, it's early March in Toronto. Yes, it's cold. Nasty, bitter cold. And yet, stalwart parents that we are, we braved the lingering Canadian winter to bring entertainment and an educational experience to our young son by taking a family trip to the Toronto Metro Zoo.

Well, okay, the trip wasn't so much for Ridley than for us. For a number of reasons, we've been housebound for a long period of time. Thus, we were desperate for a daytime family outing in the sunshine, and not even frigid temperatures were going to thwart us. Did Ridley truly appreciate the trip to the Zoo? Difficult to measure. He did point and babble at some of the animals, and even giggled at the exuberant hopping of the kangeroo rat.

Here's a photo of Ridley and a couple of orangutans. It appears to be a mother orangutan with a baby. Awwwww. This photo was difficult to get, as the warmth & humidity of the Malaysian Pavilion caused the camera lens to fog. Incidentally, the bluish-purple blob in the lower-right corner of the picture frame is Ridley's head (with hat) and the bluish blob on the right is his mittened hand knocking against the glass.

























The next photo is Ridley and a Mandrill ape (a type of baboon). Neither look too impressed by the other. So young, and already so bored.

























Next is a cute photo of Rid and his Dad, hanging out by the Tiger cage.

























Then, Ridley and I check out some sort of peacock-like bird (look carefully amidst the flora).



And lastly, me and Rid just kinda hanging out.

My pink hair comes courtesy of Jerome Russell's Punky Colour. The name of the hue shown in this photo is "#1412 Flamingo Pink", though if you ask me the colour is more magenta than pink. This is my first time using Punky Colour, as prior to this my funky hair colour of choice was Manic Panic's "Hot Hot Pink". The word on the street is that Punky Colour lasts longer. We'll see. It sure as heck stained everything in my bathroom a lovely, toxic shade of magenta/pink.

Admittedly, taking a picture of oneself in the bathroom mirror is rather goofy -- not that goofiness has ever curtailed my actions in the past. I wanted to document my pink-streaked locks before the colour fades, and my regular photographer (i.e. Richard) has been travelling and/or working late and so is unavailable. Necessity is the mother of invention, they say.