One of the things I love about dance is that it uses the body to make a statement. This seemingly simple feat is actually a very powerful one; the strongest way to promote solidarity, universality, and humanity is to use the body to communicate and connect with others.  Despite the many differences that mark our human bodies in diverse ways- whether in skin color, ability, sex, or the likes- the physical form in which we as humans exist transcends this diversity and allows us to unite as humans- humans, in the bodies of human beings.

Or at least, it should.

This is one of the many reasons I am choosing to pursue a degree in Dance and Performance Studies at the university level. It is also one of my personal outlooks that strongly resonates with the Occupy movement taking the nation by storm. Like the participants in the Occupy movement, I believe protesting, like dancing, can be effective in provoking change- if done correctly. The Occupy movement has been gaining momentum the past few weeks, which suggests that something is being done correctly. The Occupy Oakland movement, specifically, has created a huge buzz in the Bay Area- enough of a buzz for me to want to witness for myself what this ongoing social dance- I mean, protest is about. So on November 2^nd 2011- the day the Institution from which I am getting my degree happened to officially declare me a double major in Dance and Rhetoric- I put that education to good use to protest the Institution by occupying Oakland.

This day of action was called as part of the Occupy Oakland movement’s efforts to strike, march, protest, and occupy the city. The square in front of Oakland City Hall was full of a self-sustaining tent city where participants in the movement have been camped out for weeks. This is also the location where police brutality has manifested in the use of tear gas against peaceful protestors- a conflict that has left a young Iraq War Veteran hospitalized in critical condition. When I got to Frank Ogawa Plaza, though, there was not a policeman in sight. Many streets surrounding the area were shut down, and the entire plaza was occupied by protesters. Many organizations had booths to facilitate interactions with the public. There were make-shift libraries with free books to be shared. Protesters lined up and waited their turn for food which was being provided for them. Meditation and prayer circles cropped up like Weed- I mean, weeds. The emotional gravity of the presence of this sort of occupation was felt at every turn; the air was thick with passion, persistence, and connection on a human level.

After milling around the settlement, I joined in the group of people who were going to march from downtown to the Port of Oakland; this port is the 5^thlargest in the country and is responsible for one billion dollars worth of consumerism a day. We walked over two miles across traffic in the middle of the streets, virtually bringing the city to a stand-still. Martin Luther King Jr.’s ‘I Have a Dream” speech was playing on speakers and could be heard over the chants of passionate protestors marching together for a common cause. People of all backgrounds joined forces in the effort to march on the Port, and the sense of unity was truly palpable. People were there with their loved ones, their elderly parents, and their infant children. There was such a visible diversity, yet everyone connected under the umbrella of this one cause for power to return to the hands of the people. One of the most impactful parts about this experience was how organized and peaceful it was. This time around, the police kept their distance- although before marching we were told to write the legal aid phone number on our bodies in ink in case we were to be arrested. Luckily, no one had to call that number at the time I was there. The Port of Oakland was successfully occupied.

Broadway musicals.

Okay, breathe. I know. If you are as artsy as I am, your heart just went from zero to sixty. It gets better though; wait for it…:

HAIR! 

Yes, that’s right. Hair. Excuse me while I collect my thoughts- see, I am still recovering from the effects of second hand marijuana smoke, strobe lights, and projectile bodily fluids being catapulted from the stage. Basically, to say this show was a trip would be an understatement.

Throughout my life, I have been lucky enough to have attended various musicals and theater productions. This was the first time I had seen a show in San Francisco though- and the entire day was very appropriately colored with rainbows! We started off our day with brunch at Farmer Brown on Market Street, which is a chic soul food restaurant with an all-you-can-eat buffet. This is quite lucky, because not only was I hungry (I do the starving-artist college kid thing pretty well) but there were too many incredible options to be able to choose one.

With full stomachs, we rolled our way over to the Golden Gate Theater and took our seats- in the first row! Not only was it my first time seeing a show in San Francisco, but it was my first time seeing a show from front row, center seat, at eye level. Let me tell you: it was quite the experience. Within the first ten minutes, the lead actor had crawled on top of my seat and girated in his fringe-adorned jock strap. 

The rest of the performance unfolded beautifully, with well-orchestrated musical numbers and psychadelic aesthetics that continue to daze me. I definitely enjoyed it much more than when my mom showed me the movie version of Hair- although that is pretty understandable considering I was in elementary school and thus, traumatized. I got so much out of the story this time; it is still as powerful and relevant today as I imagine it was when it first came out. This timelessness only adds to how bad-ass it really is. The production was book-ended beautifully when the final piece concluded with the audience getting to join the actors on stage. Can you say “leeeeeeeet the sunshine! Leeeeeeeeet the sun shine in!”… Now, can you sing it and dance it with spotlights in your eyes?! I got to, and I am thrilled to report that it is one hell of an experience.

One of the beautiful things about majoring in a liberal arts discipline is getting to see top of the line performances as assignments for my classes. Not only is attending various shows throughout the semester a usual tendency for my classes, but also these performances usually happen in and around San Francisco, one of the most progressive arts communities in the world. One of the most valuable things I have learned is that getting a degree is different than getting an education; seeing live performance is one example of the life-education I have been gaining at university.

            I began my most recent adventure in the city with a self-guided tour around the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. This is an artistic hub in San Francisco that includes various museums, restaurants, and a state-of-the-art theater space. It was here that Alonzo King LINES Ballet performed the pieces Resin and Who Dressed You Like A Foreigner? for their Fall season production. As a dancer, I had been hearing about this company for some time as the premier West Coast epitomization of contemporary ballet. This genre is often very intimidating to me because I identify very strongly as a modern dancer with some postmodern and avante-garde elements thrown in; contemporary ballet often has an alienating effect on me as an audience member who is also a dance performer and technician herself. This was not the experience I had while watching LINES, however. Because of my subjectivity as not only a dancer but now as a student of performance studies, I was able to appreciate this production from a theoretical perspective. It provided me with an understanding of the work that avoided the usual self-judgment I feel while watching contemporary ballet, and for that relief alone I am grateful for having experienced this show from the performance studies context.

            In spite of my self-criticizing tendencies, I first and foremost appreciated the technicality exhibited by the LINES dancers throughout the production. Every body on stage was aesthetically pleasing to watch because of the extreme athleticism and musculature fundamental to ballet technique. I also appreciated that this ballet technique was fused with more contemporary choreography to offer a juxtaposition between the rigidity of traditional ballet and the fluidity of more contemporary dance forms. The sheer physicality of the dancers was extremely impressive, and was beautifully accentuated by the Alonzo King’s choreography. The harmonious relationship between dance and choreography- between dancer and choreographer- was manifested and expressed on stage in an awe-inspiring way that is a beautiful reminder of what it looks like when a dance company is true to its creator’s artistic vision.

         I also appreciated the various supplementary elements laced throughout the performance of Alonzo King LINES Ballet. The lighting design brought the craft of this production to an entirely different dimension, for it created a world on stage where the dancer’s bodies were accentuated and their physicality was heightened to visual optimization. The use of falling sand on stage not only added a three dimensional visual element in addition to the lights, but it also contributed to the production’s soundscape in a unique and interesting way. The sand ended up really standing out for me as an important element of the show, for it tied together the visual, auditory, and physical realms by contributing to all three simultaneously. Watching the dancers interact with the sand as it was falling and once it was on the floor was visually satisfying and created sounds that were beautifully contrasted with the already intriguing music. These elements were different than any I had seen in contemporary ballet productions before so they stood out to me as impressive and captivating beyond the temporal framework of the production itself.

            I am beyond thrilled to have finally seen Alonzo King LINES Ballet perform; as a Bay Area dancer, the time had definitely come to be inducted into the San Francisco contemporary ballet scene. I highly recommend seeing the work of this company whenever possible; they also offer regular classes and educational opportunities throughout the year at their studio space in San Francisco. Not only was this performance a great venue to apply the theories I have been learning in class to physical bodies on stage, but it also gave me a sense of the larger professional dance world that I will hopefully be a part of someday. That, and it left me with enough motivation to kick my ass into gear and power through my dance classes with my eye on the prize.

Home

Is where the heart is and

Where the

Heart goes

When its

Time- time to

Face the changes you

Thought never would express them

Selves within your

Self

The hell

You go through to

Pay the price it

Takes, take away the

Pain and the strife.

This

Is life.

Life at home.

Where you reside in

The childhood room you still haven’t

Outgrown.

Where high

School seniors feel young

And high

High schoolers mingle so

Nice against the back

Drop of warehouse garages on

Asphalt in TOMS.

Where Starbucks is the coffee

shop of choice

Next to the one and

Only café of independence run

Down by independence-seeking

Teens and some middle

Aged in-between-

Ers.

Well,

This is home.

Running into

People you’ve heard

Of but never talked to and

Feel like you’ve known all along

And people you never

Thought you’d have

A reason to stop

Talking to.

Where not wanting

To is a good enough

Reason

Not to.

Where

Sharing common corridors is

Enough common ground

To start a conversation on

Or, rather,

Resume one.

Where

Resumes are built and

Buffered so fine

Recession and college tuition

Payments on my mind

As the gas tank fills

Up, a restored freedom to drive

-driving reminds me of how

precious it is to be

Alive, at home.

Where radio stations share

Your name.

At home.

Beach visits merely

Because sand is

softer than the rocks in the bay.

At home,

Unused

Landline

Telephones.

At home,

Adopted parents and

Friends of friends of friends,

One relation

Ship begins where

Another one

Ends.

At home.

Venom-streaked whispers

Of truth.

Truthful colors

More than just

Red white and

Blue, the insides of eyelids of what’s always been

Known.

I

Told

You

So

Say it;

This

Is home.

A house

Yes, four walls

A roof and some

Locks

Before being replaced by a

6 feet under-buried box.

Spirits and coasters and

Memories don’t die.

The world never stops

Moving so

Why should I?

Dog toys strewn a

Bout the floor

Islands of exchanged

Glances

Horsey prances rush

Hour traffic

A zoo.

This is what my home

Town is known for-

What about yours,

What about you?

At home

Time travels at

The speed of

Right.

Day follows

Night follows

Day follows

Night. Lasting time

Fills unfulfilled dreams,

But at least

Sleep attempts to happen in

My own bed

It seems.

Quilted comforters and comforts

Of well-arranged blades of

Grass

Cheering for a home

Team whose reign has

Passed.

Piles of lighted stairs

Stare and

Summon me up.

A dance,

A curtsy,

Floor squares and

For

A moment there’s

Silence as the

Whole world stares back.

“Do you think they all

feel as right as we

do?”- Yes I

think so, at times, they

must, they

do. Not always but some

times time

syncs up with real life

And home leads me to

Believe they too have nights

Like this night.

Nights where home is

Where

Ever when

Ever

You

Feel most comfortable,

Confident,

Right,

Unconfused.

Comfortable discomfort be

Comes

Uncomfortable comfort

And you

Know you are

Home.

Realizing,

Finally,

We’re not alone.

Wondering

leads to a wandering

mind listening

ears a pounding

heart

pounds in time with

the roaring waves of

the salty sea

the salty sea

that just may be

saltier than tear ducts

after tears have dried up

up and up the bugs

seem to crawl

as I stare with eyes

sideways squinted small.

Such a battle to move

one mere grain of sand

-but at least they’re on dry land.

If it’s a straw that breaks a camel’s back

What good will moving a single grain do?

A single thought about

a single grain blends

into the white noise of the planet’s

Mental hum

And the universe speaks back with

White noise of its own

There

But unnoticed

until wondering’s begun.

And I wonder what planets sound like

-do they creak when they move?

And I wonder what dogs think when they forget they are dogs.

And I wonder what it must be like to have a tail, emotions effortlessly and uncontrollably expressed.

And I wonder where everyone is going on the freeway at rush hour

And I wonder who else has breathed the breath I just brothe

And I really like hugging the globe.

And a brown quilted blanket sprays

feathers into the air

Fathers and towels and gurgling mouths.

The good thing about being

around people who don’t know you is

You can pretend to forget what you know.

Know how to not care about

Feeling what you

Do feel

And just feel what you

Do

So doing becomes

Being

And being

Am

Me

Is

You

Are

Being

Us

We.

What once was a popsicle

Becomes cold sugar water

Stickifying the young chillins’ lips.

Lemon flavored and

cheese sticks

and murky plant water,

simple as rice

“crispsies”

and stale pretzel twists.

When my mom announced to me that this summer’s family vacation would be spent in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, I was less than enthused. I know, I know- “mom” and “family” are not the most exciting words (or people!) to be surrounding a vacation. I thought the same thing too, especially about a vacation to what I thought was the middle of Shitsville-Nowhere… I mean, Wyoming.

I should begin explaining my lack of enthusiasm by mentioning that I am an LGBTQ-identified college student who was spent the last year of my life living in the Bay Area. I’m spoiled by having the San Franciscan mecca of arts and culture, both gay and otherwise, a short BART-ride away. When deterred by the oh-so-extreme weather of rain or fog, I could access the urban hippie scene of the East Bay. When that failed, I always had the tens of thousands of my college peers around campus to fraternize with. Coming from this environment, the idea of going to what I thought was a small mountain town with lots of downtime and not a lot to do didn’t thrill me. However, the charm of my mother’s guilt- uhhrrm, convincing- continues to work even after having flown the coop. A few weeks later, I was on a plane to Jackson.

Upon landing, I instantly knew my assessment of Jackson was mistaken. The Jackson Hole airport is actually in Grand Teton National Park, so the first view we got after stepping off the plane was of the massive snow-capped mountain range (A fun fact: “Grand Tetons” is French for “Big Tits”… I’m not so sure that there weren’t a few Lesbians among those French explorers!). Next came the National Elk Refuge and National Museum of Wildlife Art- and that was still just on the ride into town. Jackson itself is an adorable mountain resort town whose every corner looks like a rustic version of Main Street U.S.A., complete with a grassy town square. The various saloons, camping gear shops, gourmet cafes, and outdoor tour guide storefronts lining each and every boardwalk style street only enhanced this vibe. There were even Christmas lights. Yes, in June. Jackson Hole now joins the ranks of babies and puppies on the list of things that unconditionally make me smile.

After window shopping and orienting ourselves in the cutest town on Earth, my family and I went to what locals told us was the best restaurant in town, The Gun Barrel. We should have known by the name that locals tend to hunt, eat, stuff, and display a variety of wild game like Elk and Buffalo. Luckily, they also had a good vegetarian selection to serve their abundant tourist demographic, like many of the other restaurants in town. The next day we woke up early to hit the hiking trail around Jenny Lake. This trail featured highlights of a beautiful waterfall called Hidden Falls, as well as a ferry ride across the lake (for when you’re too tired to hike all the way back- duh!). The night concluded with a guided driving tour through Grand Teton National Park, complete with multiple animal sightings (Buffalo, Elk, Bald Eagle, and even a Coyote!), lengthy explanations about the history of the park, and answers to every question we could think of. Much to my mom’s satisfaction, the trip was off to an incredible start.

Next on the agenda was what most summertime tourists come to Jackson for- Yellowstone National Park. The park is only two hours away by car, which is pretty good considering the ride is through the gorgeous Teton National Park. While waiting for Old Faithful to, uh, blow (pardon the sexual innuendo), we milled around the Old Faithful Inn. This historic hotel is a great place to people-watch, as well as enjoy the beautiful mountainous architecture and a Chai latte. Which, by the way, was in a size “large” cup that was equivalent of a California-coffee-chain “small”. Only in Wyoming.

Old Faithful put on an amusing few-minute long performance, but the rest of the park’s colorful geysers really stole the show. Every geyser offered unique out-of-this-world colors that only Mother Nature could produce, each more beautiful than the last. Gurgles, steam, and Sulfuric smells completed the full sensory experience. More driving took us to various viewpoints around the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone where we could see waterfalls, the Snake River, and the breathtaking magic of the canyon itself. Watching the sunset on the banks of Yellowstone Lake at the historic Yellowstone Lake Hotel capped off an incredible sightseeing day.

The next day’s outings included more window-shopping and lunch at The Lotus Café, a very chic eatery with a beautiful patio dining area. We then took a ski lift to the top of a mountain overlooking Jackson Hole, which offered incredible views of the town, the mountains, and the overlaying area. Dinner at Dornan’s in the neighboring town of Moose gave us front-row seats to sunset at the Tetons. As if we hadn’t done enough sightseeing by then, we soon did another mountaintop viewing expedition- this time by way of a gondola from Teton Village. A meal at Café Genevieve, another chic-outdoor patio-type of restaurant, was icing on the already sugar-loaded cake.

Just when I was about to get overloaded with picturesque Jackson Hole riff-raff, ad nauseam, we did something very unlike us: we went white water rafting. And let me tell you, skin-tight wet suits look good on NO ONE. Once I got over that brutal realization, I had to swallow the idea of getting thrown off of a flimsy raft into ice-cold river water should the trip down Snake River go awry. Luckily, the guides at Barker and Ewing River Trips equipped us well (even if it meant having to look more than slightly scary in colorful synthetic material). We made it over the violent rapids with only a few soaked individuals in our party; we even got to hear about our fellow rafters’ own family vacations (no matter that their kids were in elementary school while my sister and I are young adults… thanks Mom!!). Exhausted but pleased, I rewarded myself for going on such a daring excursion with a pat on the back and some gourmet gelato. I mean, I HAD risked my life- not to mention the reputation of my fashion sense- for the good of the rest of my family. We have the souvenir photos to prove it.

http://www.gaytravel.com/blog/entry/jackson-hole-wy-unexpectedly-fabulous

Although I haven’t been posting on a regular basis, I HAVE been a very busy girl! My most recent adventures have been in Los Angeles, a city I have a love/hate relationship with. The past few trips I have made to L.A. have been extremely entertaining and rewarding though. Here is an overview of my experiences:

-     Dance Camera West is a dance-on-film festival that features films by film makers and choreographers from around the world. This weekend long event was held at The Hammer Museum on UCLA’s campus- an incredible museum to visit with great things happening on a regular basis. The highlight of this festival was the headlining feature directed by Mike Figgis called “Le Co(te)lette Film”. Figgis spoke following the film and is an extremely charming and intelligent director. His work seems amazing and it was thrilling to be in his presence. Also noteworthy: Uma Thurman and Lesley Ann Warren were also attending the festival! Dance Camera West happens every year so check it out next summer: http://www.dancecamerawest.org/index.html

 -      Concert at The Hammer Museum is a museum and performance space on UCLA’s campus. It is in a great urban area, and has a gift shop, outdoor courtyard and café, and movie theater in addition to regular museum space. During the summer, The Hammer puts on free concerts every Thursday night. The band I saw was called Milo Green, and they put on a very entertaining show in the funky outdoor courtyard. The café in the courtyard that is normally open during the day has excellent but slightly expensive food; for an alternative dining experience we tried Le Pain Quotidien a few blocks away from campus. For a nighttime fix I suggest Diddy Reese; ice cream sandwiches do count as dinner. http://hammer.ucla.edu/

-      A Taping of Real Time with Bill Maher was a surprisingly great experience. I only know a little of Bill Maher, having seen his film Religilous and watching Real Time with my parents occasionally. I knew he was known for his liberal loud-mouth political and social statements, but I had no idea he was such a funny and smart guy. Watching him interact with his guests and manage interviews and panels of equally passionate individuals- all on live TV- is truly amazing. He is an artist. Bill and the other writers on the show are genius and never let a dull moment pass. Guests included Martin Lewis, John Turturro, Donna Brazile, Nick Gillespie, and John Fetterman. After seeing this show live, I will definitely make it one of my regular watches. A pretty great source for news and socio-political commentary, don’t you think? http://www.hbo.com/real-time-with-bill-maher/index.html#/real-time-with-bill-maher/episodes/0/221-episode/index.html

-      Shopping on Abbott Kinney in Venice Beach is one of the best ways to spend a Los Angeles afternoon. Stores, cafes, and restaurants adorn this street for blocks; the merchandise and people-watching are so good that you won’t even mind the outrageous prices. This area epitomizes the SoCal Hipster vibe- another thing I have a love/hate relationship with. In the context of Venice Beach, though, I must say I love it. Lunch was spend at Lemonade- think Whole Foods’ prepared food section meets chic lemonade stand. A few blocks from the Boardwalk and tucked away from the crazy L.A. urban scene, Abbott Kinney in Venice Beach is now on the top of my Los Angeles list. 

You are a storyteller

Speaking tales wrapped up in the sparkling sizzle of your voice

The cool cackle of your laugh

The trickling of your words around my soul like the

Goosebumps down my spine

Not needing the novelty of Pointe shoes to captivate your audiences

I know

-Because I am held captive

By your mind, heart, light

Bound to you by the stories you tell

And the history we share

History

Her story

Our story

You are a storyteller

Sharing with me all of your soul

The darkest corners of your mind

Where trails of gluten-free crackers

Lead to dumpsters

That hold not enough of the past

Too much empty space

Space where the effects of progress should reside

But there is so much we have yet laid to rest

Like stars, we need darkness to shine

Shine like the sun through rustling leaves

Blown by wind

-Around them, not through them, you see

Pine needle toes

Ribbons and bows

Holding together the broken pieces of our souls

As we push away the demons

No room for demons when there’s breath

And guess what my other hand is holding? - Yours.

Hold what I say to be self-evident and true

This is our story

Her story

History

Wrestling mat caves capture wrestling thoughts

Eye contact

And the peace of mind those looks bought

Carpeted alcoves soak up salty sea tears

As the dusty grimy dirt gets washed out to sea

Boat and all

To expose the brilliant light of the heart space we forgot was there

And forgot was occupied by something other than

Raw anxious feeling

But you remind me

You remind me

With the stories you tell

That I am the one who got me through that hell

That I am the one I have always relied on

Contrary to what I always believed

And believe me, I hear you

I am just learning how to listen

As I have listened to the soft whispers of your voice

Telling me stories

In my painfully pierced ears

Painful, but true

Your story

That I live vicariously through

As you waltz circles around the ones who

Try and keep up

Tambe, pad de bourree

And never give up

Instead, creating boxes

To fit inside your cluttered mind

Controlled chaos and

Seeing what comes in good time

I watch from a distance as the show unfolds

Knowing all too well what goes on

After the curtain will close

Knowing the calculations and affirmations

That go on in that mind

Both unfolded and assured by that twinkle in your eye

Because you do not have to tell me in order for me to know

We both know

Because all has already been told

It’s all history

Our story

Never to grow old.

For those of you who fancy a fetish, look no further. The one and only Jockstrap Queen will surely adorn your endowments with the finest in fashion. Susan Boyer, the brains and talent behind all of the magic, is owner and fashion designer of the successful ecommerce store Jockstrap Queen where she applies her business savvy and fashion forward mentality to her artistic creations. And she really does put the “create” in “creations”; our Jockstrap Queen is redefining and redesigning the jock world! Susan’s designer jocks are embellished with studs, embroidery, jock chains, Swarovski Elements, Czech stone, and tulle. She has also designed signature men’s opera length gloves in stretch satin, and other accessories like rhinestone jewelry and skull and leash chains. Her repertoire is soon to include a casual sportswear line that will be launched in July, so keep her on your radar to see what she comes up with next.

Armed with several degrees in costume design and fashion design from Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, Susan is well equipped to channel her creativity in the work she does for the gay community. Her very own gay community isn’t far out of reach; she works and lives out of Palm Springs, one of the gayest cities around! Susan gets her inspiration from the heat of the desert where the warm nights are magical- and from the scantily clad sun worshipers. She values her connection to the LGBT community because she believes it is more adventurous and trendsetting when it comes to fashion, casual wear- and fetish wear, of course. Susan believes in and practices what she calls “grassroots fundraising”: fundraising for LGBT charities and communities all around the country. She is extremely hands-on and engaged with the gay community that she serves- I mean, who blames her?!?  

To get more of Susan Boyer and Jockstrap Queen, check out the event she is headlining that kicks off Houston Pride on Thursday, June 23rd. Naughty for a Night showcases a titillating, sexy fashion parade of bedazzled and bejeweled jockstraps modeled by hot, athletic models. You can bid on fashions, purchase raffle tickets, or invest in incredible art to benefit the Osito Foundation and the Montrose Softball League. If you can’t wait until the event to get your…. um, hands… on a designer jockstrap of your own, visit Susan’s website at www.jockstrapqueen.com or follow her on facebook and twitter.

Do you like what you see? If you or anyone you know is interested in being featured as a partner artist with us, contact sophie.needelman@gaytravel.com

“gaytravel.com would like to give back to the community by helping artists offer our site visitors access to the local art scene in the destinations they visit- as well as the places they live. 

We will begin to do this by reaching out to LGBT and ally artists to feature ongaytravel.com as part of our Local Artist Profile. We are looking for LGBT and ally artists who work with any kind of artistic media and who have work and events we can promote on our website. You can even join the ranks of our blog features and have a blog post about YOU and the art that you do! 

We hope to give other Gay Travelers exposure to your work as a local artist through our website and social media tools. This will allow the LGBT community and the arts community to become even more interconnected- through the vehicle of experiencing local art while (gay!) traveling. 

If you or anyone you know is interested in being featured as an LGBT and ally partner artist with us, please contact sophie.needelman@gaytravel.com. We look forward to hearing from you!”

The movie I am is a must-see. It chronicles one man’s journey to enlightenment after a near death experience. This documentary is the culmination of his journey. It exposes various truths about the human condition that he comes to realize upon hitting an all time low and working to reverse it- as well as reverse the toxic lifestyle he had been leading until then. If you believe in the power of one, the power of the individual in changing the world, see this movie. If you believe in the power of thoughts in inspiring action, see this movie. If you have ever asked yourself the question “what is wrong with this world?”, see this movie. If you haven’t, see it anyway and let your own journey begin.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides is not only an incredible read, but it addresses a lot of valuable and thought-provoking issues that our global society faces. The controversial “nature vs. nurture” debate is usually just thought of in regards to sexual orientation, but this book reminds us that gender identity is also impacted by these two elements. So which is it? What are the terms of the relationship between sex and gender identity, and is that relationship informed by nature or by nurture? Answering this question will shed light on whose right it is to then change that relationship, that sex, and that gender identity. 

It is a complex issue with many sides; after reading Middlesex though, I definitely know what I think about it. I also know what Jeffrey Eugenides and his character Calliope/Cal Stephanies think about it. To find out for yourself, pick up that book and join the conversation.

I really should have guessed that I would feel completely at home at a local feminist theater. Moxie Theatre is a diamond-in-the-rough theater that puts on quirky, provocative, estrogen-filled shows. They also teach acting classes and do community outreach; again, yet another reason to absolutely love this company. The show I saw is called Ten Cent Night, and it actually really blew me away. I tend to prefer the grand spectacle of Broadway musicals, but this off-the-beaten-path type of show definitely impressed me.It was full of country twang and backstabbing incest- not to mention lots of genuine and believable acting. I managed to be on the edge of my seat and still ride the waves of the emotional rollercoaster that was this performance. I highly recommend paying Moxie Theatre a visit, or at least checking in on your own local feminist theater. They make defending local arts feel good.

http://moxietheatre.com/