Thoughts on a quiet, rainy Sunday.
By Paul
Originally posted: Sunday, October 15, 2006
Modfied: Sunday, April 08, 2007
The work week started with training -- 3 days in a room filled with fellow geeks attempting to learn the intricacies of a database design our company purchased to replace the designs we have developed since 1983 -- and two days of geeky hassles and phone conferences. My week ended with a bit with a fun, a Friday night with a dinner of pizza slices at the Broadway Pagliacci (my favorite pizza place in Seattle followed by 2 hours of cocktails and visiting with friends at C.C. Attle's. By 9:30 that night, I was fried and it was time to go home.
During the week there was some diversions.
- Tuesday night Gregg and I went to our square dance lessons. We are taking "Plus" classes, which is the next level of dancing. Gregg and I have been dancing at the level called "Mainstream" for a few years. For the uninitiated, think of square dancing like levels of education:
-
- grammar school, called "Basic"
- high school, called "Mainstream"
- BA, called "Plus"
- Masters, called "Advanced"
- PhD called "Challenge"
- On Wednesday I worked late and stayed downtown to see a movie, The Departed (it is a good movie; a real movie because it has explosions; a violent movie and a long movie).
- On Thursday night Gregg and I went to help teach new square dancers who are learning "Basic". (Our dance club link.) Gregg had a "day off" (no students; just home work) on Friday so started to go out for a beer, but soon realized Gregg forgot his coat with keys and phone at the church where we had the square dance lessons. We made a mad dash back to the church, looked around and didn't see the coat. Finally, we found it in the back of mini-van. From that point, we went home without the benefit of beer.
- Friday, in spite of being on a conference call all day long, was easier to endure. Gregg brought his school computer to my office at work and did his "day off" teacher administrative duties there. Except for our 45 minute lunch, when we dined at Subway and had a quick walk & talk to a park nearby my office, he sat with his iPod in his ears and worked silently in my office. It was nice to have him there all day, until we left around 5:30.
Saturday started off like a nice quiet day, but soon I was soon in a panic to get thing done around appointments at 1:00 and 7:00 PM. The panic was exaserbated very heavy traffic around Seattle, which was made worse for the weekend because the Alaskan Way Viaduct was shut down during daylight hours for inspection and repairs. I ended up having to do my meditation in the car as Gregg drove us to Craig's birthday party that evening. The party was fun, with a fire outside on the garden patio, cake and cocktails under the sky light cover in the backyard, and plenty of snacks in living room -- but of course, everyone hangs out in the kitchen.
Sunday we woke up to a gentle rain. The first major weekend rain in several months. My hopes of getting the house cleaned up ended when I finished the laundry and started working on this crazy web page. For some reason, I was compelled to start this web page diary entry, because I wanted to share this thought with you. My thoughts about how/when I knew I was gay. Well, when I first knew it, "gay" wasn't in my vocabulary. When I was about 3 or 4, I knew something was "different". Some of my earliest thoughts about those ideas revolved around this picture:
Raft of the Medusa
I first saw this image in a set of "Childcraft" encyclopedia when I was 3 or 4 years old -- 1955 or 1956. No one showed me the picture or told me the story. I just found the picture while looking through the books. I remember being tormented and captivated by it. For a long time (weeks, months -- I don't know) I would look at it whenever I could. I looked privately, in secret. No one knew I was fascinated by this image. Of course, at that young age, I didn't know much either.
As a teenager and then as an adult when I recalled my memories of image, I always assumed it was some religious image. I figured it had something to do with Jesus saving the drowning men. Not until 2005 did I stumble across this image again. Then I was able to get the title of the art work and find out more about it. Click here for a complete Googlized research on the Raft of Medusa including a link to the historical story behind this painting.
Any way, I attribute this picture with awakening my sexual interest in the male form. After this picture I looked for naked men in all kinds of classic art works. When was the awakening turned to lust? Instantly or later? I dont' know. I have clear memories of sexual fantasies with men at this time, but of course what does a 4 year old know about sex. (And no... I was never molested, abused nor anything worthy of a TV docu-drama.) It is an ongoing debate as to whether such an image "made me" gay or (my belief) I was born this way -- this image just happened to be there when I first started having self-awareness of such things.
So, this is how I spent my rainy Sunday. Writing this web page, thinking about things that happened 50 years ago and trying to remember what happened last Monday. The house is still a mess -- but I have clean clothes.