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Greetings, minions! I hope all of you are doing well and that your year has been running smoothly so far. As for my new year, you ask? Well, I wouldn't use the word "smooth" in any way, shape, or form. I feel like my life has been like a soap opera or something over the last 2 months! It's seriously been too insane to believe, but what I'm about to tel you is 100% true. ---- So, in my last blog I described the sad ending to my 2 year relationship with my girlfriend, Ariel. If you don't want to go back and read it, the short version is that she cheated on me with her best friend, begged me for forgiveness, got it, then decided she didn't want me back after all and left me for the best friend. Get it? Got it? Good. Well anyway, this is where it gets interesting (as if it wasn't interesting enough already!): After Ariel left me, I was heartbroken. So I turned toward my artwork for solace. In my grief, I created several paintings that reflected heartbreak, and Ariel saw me working on them one day. She seemed a little upset once she realized they were directed towards her/ our relationship, but she didn't say anything other than that they looked nice. A couple of weeks later, my art teacher put up those pieces on the bulletin board out in the hallway. She didn't ask me, but I didn't mind. A couple of days later, however, I noticed that 2 of my pieces were gone. I assumed that my teacher had taken them down, but BOY was I wrong. It turns out, they had been STOLEN!!! 3 things immediately stuck out to me: 1) TWO pieces of mine were missing. Not just one. And no one else had anything stolen 2) The pieces hadn't been signed. This appeared to be a personal attack, since two of my pieces were gone, but someone had to have known I had painted them since they were unsigned. 3) I don't have any enemies, so who would do this? My mind went immediately to Johnny. The best friend. My ex-girlfriend's new man. So, I explained my theory to my teacher: 1) Ariel saw the art pieces and told Johnny they made her upset 2) Johnny decided to get rid of them so she wouldn't have to look at them 3) Because he's a dick, he probably destroyed them too. And guess WHAT? My art teacher confronted Johnny, and he lied to her a few times before finally CONFESSING! That jerk!!! And I was right on every single point! You cannot believe how happy it made me to hear that he was responsible, because I knew I'd get to see him PUNISHED! And guess what? They suspended him for 4 days! Now, I think he should've been expelled, but whatever. Want to know the worst part in all of it though? Ariel totally supported him. She didn't think what he did was wrong and she didn't feel bad that my feelings got hurt or that my art got ruined. There was a time when she would have cared... but she's turned into a total bitch. I think he's rubbed off on her. She never used to be that insensitive to people. It's sad to watch, and hurtful to endure. Oh well. Anyway, I just thought you would find all of that at least moderately amusing. High school drama... there's nothing quite like it Thanks for tuning in, everyone! Dylan

Yesterday afternoon, I had the day off and spent a couple of hours at the contemporary art museum here in town. The latest exhibition showcases a raw, vibrant display of street art, including graffiti, photography, and a rare collection of Jean-Michel Basquiat scribbles/doodles done a year before he became famous. Just a few weeks ago, I saw Julian Schnabel's film "Basquiat" at a local theater (on original 35mm, complete with snaps and pops and blips on the screen), followed by a Q&A panel with one of Basquiat's friends and bandmates who was also the screenwriter for the film, Michael Holman. Seeing the film this time around, after watching it 21 years ago when it first came out, was just as moving for me now as it was back then. (On a side note: David Bowie played Andy Warhol in it, which was a remarkable performance. All of the actors were remarkable.) Hearing Michael Holman's tales afterwards about Basquiat and the crazy life they led brought back a cloud of memories for me. When I was in junior high/high school, I had lofty dreams of running off to New York to hang with Warhol and the Factory crowd and to immerse myself in the art scene. I knew such a lifestyle would come with a truckload of challenges, but it held a certain glamour for me, and the creativity that was being produced out there was alluring to my much-younger, naive self. I never made it to New York, and after Warhol passed in '87, there was little point in doing so. However, that itch to live a Bohemian, street-art lifestyle never left me. To some degree, I did live it, but my version wasn't glamorous or productive - just a lot of fucked-up. If nothing else, I walked away with some serious life experiences under my belt, and I met some interesting people along the way - some who didn't make it out, and some who did and are now enjoying successful lives. For me, the direction could have gone either way, but that's for another discussion. So, this art exhibit yesterday compounded the influx of memories that had already been swirling around after watching "Basquiat" again. But, beyond the Basquiat exhibit itself, there was a whole floor of the museum dedicated to thousands of photos by a New York artist named Ryan McGinley. These photos, taken when he was in his early 20s, exemplify street-art life, with raw, realistic portrayals of himself and his friends - many art students, many living on the streets - shown countless times in very stark, unflattering situations (a post-punch bloodied mouth, someone snorting coke, someone passed out, someone naked and bruised, someone with cum-splattered pants, someone spewing vomit, and so on.) This entire exhibit is stark and in-your-face, similar to Nan Goldin's photos in the mid-80s, and seeing it brought flashback reminders of so many things for me, including people and circumstances that I could relate to. The photo below, titled "Red Mirror", particularly moved me, because it embodies Ryan's sexual discovery about himself and an intimacy and energy that pokes at the heart no matter what your preference is. I can see myself in this photo. I can see friends in this photo. I can see many in this photo. Can you see yourself? In a new chapter that I'm currently working on for my story Dissonance, I mention art imitating life... or is it life imitating art? I feel that way often. Just last night, while attending an art opening for a friend of mine, I saw a man wearing the exact 1950s vintage western jacket that I'd just described in this current, unfinished chapter. I couldn't fucking believe it. The exact one. I had to go over and discuss the uncanny coincidence with him. Art imitating life... or life imitating art? The lines are blurred. The exhibit at the contemporary art museum perfectly illustrated that for me yesterday. I feel more enlightened and inspired today because of it.

Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others. -Johnathan Swift Dean's Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/Roger-Dean-Official-Page-267978434150/ Dean's Web Page http://www.rogerdean.com/

Note: I'm frustrated. I swear. Deal with it. I was browsing YouTube yesterday when I came across a 10 Best LGBTQ Movies video. As I always do, I clicked on it, cause I'm always up for potentially finding new movies to watch. There were some good ones on the list, such as Call Me By Your Name, Milk, and Weekend for instance, and I found a couple I hadn't seen, either. But when they got down to #3, they lost me, because according to them the third best LGBTQ film in history is Brokeback Mountain. I was 17 when Brokeback Mountain came out. I saw it in the cinema, and I cried, and I thought it was wonderful. Because I was a 17-year-old at the time girl who hadn't really been exposed to a lot of queer cinema. I bought it on DVD when it came out, and watched it again. Then a few years passed, I became more experienced, watched other LGBTQ movies, and realised that Brokeback Mountain is, quite frankly, shit. All of my IRL queer friends agree with me. Not most, all. The film tends to be conspicuously absent when queer people make lists of greatest LGBTQ films. I feel like Brokeback Mountain caters to a straight audience that wants to feel liberal and accepting by watching gay characters on screen, but who ultimately feel more comfortable if it ends in tragedy. The story it's based on was written by a straight woman (not that there's anything wrong with straight people writing LGBTQ stories, and we have many, many straight authors on the site here who write absolutely wonderful gay fiction). Brokeback Mountain has served a purpose, of course. It has made gay stories more palatable to straight audiences, which is a good thing. The acting performances are marvellous, too. But it also demonstrated that the only way for an LGBTQ movie to win an Academy Award is if literally no one involved in its making is visibly queer. I'm not of the opinion that straight people can't play gay characters (they definitely can) or even that cis people can't play trans characters (they can, though they have a responsibility to to do well that few manage to fulfil). But nobody even remotely queer has their name on that movie. Author of original short story, straight. Writers, straight. Producers, straight. Ang Lee, totally straight. Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal? Ding ding ding! Straight! As of last year, the only gay man to win an Academy Award playing a gay character, is Ian McKellen. And that was twenty fucking years ago. Meanwhile, if a cis-het actor plays a queer character in an even remotely successful film, they're guaranteed a nomination, if not a win. No trans actor has ever won an Oscar. No lesbian playing a lesbian has ever won an Oscar. Another movie that straight people keep harping on about is Blue is the Warmest Colour, which is objectively shit. After the third lengthy porn inspired male gaze centred sex scene, I switched that motherfucker off. Bohemian Rhapsody is being lauded by straight critics, while LGBTQ audiences are disappointed at the misrepresentation of Freddie Mercury's sexuality and the way everything goes to shit when he tries to live out his queer identity (which is a factually incorrect assessment of Freddie's queerness), while embracing his straight friends and staying out of 'that world' makes everything better (also factually incorrect). While not in and of itself a bad film, as a queer film it falls short, and a movie about Freddy Mercury ought to be a queer film. He's one of the most famous queer people in history. We've got Elton John, William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, Alexander the Great, and Freddie Mercury. (Notice how there are no queer women on that list? Sigh...) There is a lot of great queer cinema. We've had long, extensive threads on the subject in The Lounge, where people have shared their top picks of literally hundreds of wonderful films, many of which actually have happy endings for once. Straight audiences can't handle a queer movie with a happy ending. It has to be sad, or it has to be heteronormative, and that's what we get. Things are improving a little, sure. Love, Simon is a notable exception in being a well loved queer teen movie with a sweet and happy ending where no one kills themselves. How lovely! Of course, Love, Simon didn't even earn an honourable mention in the video I watched. Weekend took second place, which redeemed the list somewhat. Carol came in first. Which is fine, it's a great movie, and doesn't end in tragedy. But fucking Brokeback Mountain ought to die a fiery death and be buried in an avalanche of awesome queer cinema. EDIT: Just to clarify: I'm not saying that Brokeback Mountain is objectively a bad movie, nor am I saying that the short story it's based on isn't good. What I am saying is that it's not an LGBTQ movie, it's made by straight people for straight people, and as such I don't think it belongs on lists of good queer movies. It's a bad queer film, that doesn't necessarily make it a bad film, period.

A bizarre instrument combining a piano and cello has finally been played to an audience more than 500 years after it was dreamt up Leonardo da Vinci. Da Vinci, the Italian Renaissance genius who painted the Mona Lisa, invented the ‘‘viola organista’’ - which looks like a baby grand piano – but never built it, experts say. The viola organista has now come to life, thanks to a Polish concert pianist with a flair for instrument-making and the patience and passion to interpret da Vinci’s plans. Full of steel strings and spinning wheels, Slawomir Zubrzycki’s creation is a musical and mechanical work of art. ‘‘This instrument has the characteristics of three we know: the harpsichord, the organ and the viola da gamba,’’ Zubrzycki said as he debuted the instrument at the Academy of Music in the southern Polish city of Krakow. The instrument’s exterior is painted in a rich midnight blue, adorned with golden swirls painted on the side. The inside of its lid is a deep raspberry inscribed with a Latin quote in gold leaf by 12th-century German nun, mystic and philosopher, Saint Hildegard. ‘‘Holy prophets and scholars immersed in the sea of arts both human and divine, dreamt up a multitude of instruments to delight the soul,’’ it says. The flat bed of its interior is lined with golden spruce. Sixty-one gleaming steel strings run across it, similar to the inside of a baby grand. Each is connected to the keyboard, complete with smaller black keys for sharp and flat notes. But unlike a piano, it has no hammered dulcimers. Instead, there are four spinning wheels wrapped in horse-tail hair, like violin bows. To turn them, Zubrzycki pumps a pedal below the keyboard connected to a crankshaft. As he tinkles the keys, they press the strings down onto the wheels, emitting rich, sonorous tones reminiscent of a cello, an organ and even an accordion. The effect is a sound that da Vinci dreamt of, but never heard; there are no historical records suggesting he or anyone else of his time built the instrument he designed. A sketch and notes in da Vinci’s characteristic inverted script is found in his Codex Atlanticus, a 12-volume collection of his manuscripts and designs for everything from weaponry to flight. ‘‘I have no idea what Leonardo da Vinci might think of the instrument I’ve made, but I’d hope he’d be pleased,’’ said Zubrzycki, who spend three years and 5000 hours bringing da Vinci’s creation to life.

[Let me get my moth-eaten cardigan with leather patched elbows on] There we go! I just wanted to introduce my blog featuring snippets of GLBT history. The first essay is now posted called "Unchained Melody" Check it out. There's lots more to come. One thing, please make comments or start such discussions on my blog. It can be found here. https://www.gayauthors.org/forums/blog/575/entry-14636-unchained-melody/ This is to look back to see what's happened and how the past informs our art and our lives. If you have suggestions, please PM me. I want this little project to inspire writing and thinking about our past. I will update this thread as I add essays. Please enjoy! Cole

19 yo art student Clayton Pettet has announced he intends to lose his virginity in a London gallery as a performance art piece entitled 'Art School Stole My Virginity'. The 19-year-old will have sex with another boy in front of an audience of up to 100 people who will then be invited to ask questions about his experience. This is scheduled to take place on 25 January next year and "aims to challenge the idea of sexuality". He explains in his blog: My name is Clayton; I am currently at Art School in London. I am nineteen years of age. I have brown hair and brown eyes and I am a Virgin. A Performance for The People The Idea of “Art School Stole My Virginity” came around when I was Sixteen, when all my peers at school were losing their Virginity it was incredibly hard for me to ask why I was still a Virgin and why it meant so much to the people all around me. My piece isnt a statement as much as it is a question. The whole aspect of Virginity was incredibly emotional for me and has been ever since. It became a thought process that turned into the performance piece that I wish to create for the public on January the 25th. The London Art Scene has slowed down recently and whilst London is in its prime and is constantly changing the contemporary artists are the same and they aren’t so contemporary anymore. I want my piece to inject some speed into the arts, a performance of the people if you will. I feel like now is the time for the new scene. To lose my Virginity with the new age is the Avant Garde that London has been unintentionally waiting for. He explains further in an interview “The key thing about performance art is that it should only be performed once, and this is the ultimate once-in-a-lifetime performance. I’ve held on to my virginity for 19 years, and I’m not throwing it away lightly. Basically it’s like I am losing the stigma around virginity. I want the audience to see if anything has changed between me and my partner. Since culturally we do hold quite a lot of value to the idea of virginity I have decided to use mine and the loss of it to create a piece that I think will stimulate interesting debate and questions regarding the subject.” The idea is that people will be encouraged to question the importance of virginity and the traditional values placed upon it while also considering issues surrounding sexuality and gender. "Virginity has almost become heteronormative in its definition," he says. "Is virginity even real? Or is it just an ignorant word that was used to dictate the value of a woman's worth pre-marriage?" He also said he has chosen not to tell his parents about the project but has informed his tutors at the university. No, they're never gonna find out. Nope. Not in a million years Well, if a dead shark floating in a tank of formaldehyde, and an unmade bed are art then I guess anything can be. As the artist Grayson Perry said: "Art can't shock us anymore – we are all bohemians now." http://thankyouartschoolstole.tumblr.com/ http://www.thenationalstudent.com/Weird_World/2013-11-04/gay_art_student_plans_to_lose_his_virginity_in_front_of_audience.html .

This is a story forum for readers of lomax61's first story Uninvited Guest to discuss themes and topics of the story with each other and the author. For those of you who may have tripped on this thread and not yet seen the story: https://www.gayauthors.org/story/lomax61/uninvitedguest The setting is partly rural England and partly London, and Iomax has introduced us to several interesting characters, mysteries, and dramatic situations in the eight chapters posted so far. And I apologize to lomax for spelling his name with capital I instead of l. It was only as I wrote him a PM I realized my mistake.