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    Showing posts with label Alexandra Jacoby. Show all posts
    Showing posts with label Alexandra Jacoby. Show all posts
  1. Comedy, Poetry, 110 Vaginas

    Monday, October 15, 2018













    Those of you who find it easier to get to a comedy show in Brooklyn than 
    most other boroughs, I will be doing a guest spot in the Laugh-tober Comedy Show at the Eastville Comedy Club this Friday evening, 7pm.




    If poetry is more your thing, I am one of the readers in the 4 Horse 
    Poetry Reading curated by Bob Quatrone on Saturday, November 17th at 6pm at the Cornelia Street Café on Cornelia Street in the Village.  Only ten bucks which includes a drink.  The line-up is typically one of which I am proud to be a part.


    If vagina is more your thing, either as an owner or an admirer, mine is one 
    of the 110 vagina portraits in this exhibition on Saturday, December 8th from 4 to 8pm at 40 Ludlow Street.  Photos by Alexandra Jacoby.  And it is free! 

    https://www.eventbrite.com/e/normal-is-diverse-how-you-are-is-how-youre-supposed-to-be-tickets-50572670218





    The normal is diverse exhibition takes place on Saturday, 08-Dec-2018 from 4-8pm at Ludlow Studios, 40 Ludlow Street, NYC 10002.

    It's free, but space is limited. RSVP to reserve your space.

    There is more to share, but for now I’ll leave it on the note of 110 vaginas.




  2. Do You Know Where Your Vagina Is?

    Tuesday, October 22, 2013



    Years ago I worked nights proofreading at a law firm where they sent a car service to pick me up.  The driver and I were talking a bit.  I learned his wife is very intelligent and has a masters degree in education.  He said she is qualified to teach teachers.  Then he proudly declared that she doesn't work, as though that made him look good -- like a provider who had it covered.  I said, "We all don't get to benefit from her gifts."  He looked shocked.  "Her gifts!?"  "Yes.  All that she could teach teachers.  Her gifts.  And we can't receive them."  I believe he thought her gifts were between her thighs but they are between her ears, and maybe he should think about that with what's between his ears. 
     
    For centuries, the human race in much of the world has deprived all of us of the gifts within the oppressed.  We will never know how many cures could have been found if more than half the human race weren't kept from participating.  Patriarchy kills all of us and fools many into believing it benefits them.  If the only way one can feel able to achieve is by holding down another, that person has a problem, and the problem is not the other rising.
     
    Patriarchy was carried out so thoroughly that just in case anyone made it through still thinking they have value and something to share with the world, we have women on the job crushing the dreams of other women. 
     

     

    Disney Letter
     
     
     
    That was 1938.  In case you don't think we have such problems anymore, when was the last time you saw a man needing a sign like this to hang on his own genitals?

    
     
    Photo: via I Acknowledge A War On Women Exists

     
     
    If we are going to continue to allow boys and females with brainwashed minds to be legislators, we must require a proper education for them.
     
    They can begin with some technical knowledge from Wikipedia:
     
    The vulva (from the Latin vulva, plural vulvae, see etymology) consists of the external genital organs of the female mammal.[1] This article deals with the vulva of the human being, although the structures are similar for other mammals.
    The vulva has many major and minor anatomical structures, including the labia majora, mons pubis, labia minora, clitoris, bulb of vestibule, vulval vestibule, greater and lesser vestibular glands, and the opening of the vagina. Its development occurs during several phases, chiefly during the fetal and pubertal periods of time. As the outer portal of the human uterus or womb, it protects its opening by a "double door": the labia majora (large lips) and the labia minora (small lips). The vagina is a self-cleaning organ, sustaining healthy microbial flora that flow from the inside out; the vulva needs only simple washing to assure good vulvovaginal health, without recourse to any internal cleansing.
    The vulva has a sexual function; these external organs are richly innervated and provide pleasure when properly stimulated. In various branches of art, the vulva has been depicted as the organ that has the power both to "give life" (often associated with the womb), and to give sexual pleasure to humankind.[2]
    The vulva also contains the opening of the female urethra, but apart from this has little relevance to the function of urination.
     
     
    I know a woman, Alexandra Jacoby, who believes if we see the vagina as an ordinary body part, women can be approached as people.  She says about herself:  Alexandra Jacoby is not a vagina expert. She just thinks that women’s bodies are fine the way they are, and is tired of being told differently. 
     
    Alexandra is a photographer among other things.  She gathered many vagina portraits that she photographed, and, combined with some stories, created a beautiful book which can be ordered on line.*  (My vagina portrait is included in the book.) 
     
     
     
     
    *I highly recommend it as a holiday gift to a young woman/older teenager.  This is not a sex book at all.  It is the kind of gift that says you are just perfect as you are.


  3. What We See Is Merely the Tip


    My recent blogs have shared self-examination on matters of sexuality.  While some readers are entertained and others horrified, the quieter ones who e-mail me privately are the ones most grateful that I even am willing to bring such matters into the light.  They are female and usually feeling lonely in the load they carry.  It is what helps me stay on track when I’m having my own doubts about continuing to write in such an open way. 

    Pulling things out of the darkness is what I do.  It was necessary for my own emotional survival in life, and it is what truly helps.  It does mean I allow myself to be open to the world.  With that, comes good and bad.

    In teaching, it is such a high to hear the light bulbs going on in heads.  People, many of whom haven’t had that experience, feel so good when they can see what they couldn’t before.  Just knowing lights can be lit is life-changing.

    Even in my comedy, I often am simply shining a light on what we do as humans, particularly in heterosexual behavior, how we treat each other and ourselves.  I’m not looking to get my jokes at anyone’s expense.  I think what we really do and feel deserves looking at and is often funny in a ridiculous way.  Some people, both men and women, seem to feel uncomfortable and might prefer we don’t examine our lives.  Some are very disapproving of my unladylike ways.  Ah, too fuckin‘ bad.  Once a woman came over to me after a show and told me her husband was going nuts asking her if what “that female comic” said was true and going more nuts as she kept telling him “yes.”  I love these stories.  But the most touching for me took place when I was quite new at doing stand-up.  I’d been doing it less than a year, and I was fortunate to be included in a show at Therapy (a mainly gay male bar in NYC) booked by comic Adam Sank.  I was still doing my original 5-minute set.  It took on a lot of heavy duty subjects in a very comical way.  But the underlying anger of my material was clear, and the path to funny was clear.  The audience, mostly gay men and some women friends of theirs, and I were on the same page from before I got on stage.  I was very lucky.  I think they liked my look and friendly demeanor (I’m not a comic that makes you regret sitting up front).  Plus when Adam introduced me, they heard that my comedy was on a feminist radio program (Fran Luck’s “Joy of Resistance”), and that seemed to be a plus.  We were all coming from a place of oppression.  So when I got up there, nervous and shaking, I actually felt liked already.  That helped my set go very well.  I was proud.  They don’t all go so well.  Here’s the touching part.  When I went to the unisex bathroom, which was clean, beautiful, and perfectly lit for looking in the mirror, a young woman (looked Philippine maybe) looked at me and said that she was sorry to bother me but that I was great.  Then she lost her ability to speak and began to cry.  I was washing my hands and said, “First of all, you’re not bothering me.  And,” referring to her tears, “I understand.”  I dried my hands on my pants to hurry and hug her.  I really did understand that I touched hurting spots for her.  She was grateful I put it into words, but she wasn’t at a place inside where she could laugh yet.  We just hugged.  “I really do understand,” I said, without ever knowing her details or her name.

    My then-husband told me, “No matter what you do, it’s always social work in some way.” 

    It was the brave women who didn’t shut up and who risked being thought of as crazy or too extreme who helped me so much in my life to have hope that life -- even on a woman-hating planet -- was worth living and could have much beauty in it.  It was women like that who gave me words when I so badly needed to know words existed for what I was feeling.  When there are words for it, it would make me feel convinced I wasn’t alone because the words would not exist for me alone.

    So here I was being that woman for this pained person.  It felt so much bigger than comedy to me.  Comedy was just the avenue that reached this soul. 

    I am not striving to limit what I say and how I say it.  I had once been the scared first-grader whose teacher told my grandmother that I was too shy and afraid to raise my hand.  She pointed out that when she called on me anyway, I knew the answer.  Of course the teacher didn’t know I was under daily threat of being given away to a foster home if I spoke about anything that went on in our house, blah, blah, blah, so yeah, I was too quiet and too afraid.  She got that part right.  I’d like to continue growing up and out from there.  It’s not easy but so worth it.

    In my adult years, there continue to be special people who welcome my voice (as opposed to trying to shut me up, and I can’t express how tremendous that is to me who has felt so suffocated) and continue to help light my path in ways.  One of those people is Alexandra Jacoby, a woman very worth Googling.  And it was at her Vagina Salon, that I was introduced to this wonderfulness below.

    In honor of Women’s History Month, I’d like to help give ourselves back to us … so much has been stolen and buried.  Vagina owners and vagina visitors, the next 3 minutes could potentially change the quality of the rest of your life. 



    You’re welcome.  <3