Breaking The Rock

I love the image that was used in the speech (below) by Patricia Clarkson at the HRC benefit in New Orleans - taken from the quote by Tennessee Williams "The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks."

It is a theme of "Dancing With Crazy" that has been a big one for me in my life - which you all will read once the damn thing is published. Sheesh. But what a glorious picture: Something as seemingly tiny and fragile as a seed - a flower, breaking through something as seemingly hard and impenetrable as a mountain - a rock.

This speaks to something so much bigger than equal rights and those who are fighting to achieve them (as important as that is). It speaks to the human soul that has been buried and covered and lost in the dark - smashed by the rock of the lies and pain of life. It speaks to the ability we all have, in the deepest parts of our beings, to not give up. To struggle and to grow and to reach for the light. To stand tall and beautiful, having fought the fight of a lifetime, with our hearts and petals open and alive in the sunshine.

There is no feeling that comes close. Except maybe love. Because that is, ultimately, what it is. Love. Love of Self. Love of Life. And, Love of that word that I have only recently begun even speaking again. God. (I think I just heard several of you fall off your chairs.)

Coochie. Coochie. Coochie.

So, I just got back from a quick trip to LA. Saw the Long Beach production of "Facing East." It was a wonderful weekend of book and film schmoozing and creating and making peace with the city that tried to kill me two decades ago. All was fantabulous until my flight home.

Okay, I get the whole "terrorists exist therefore you must get naked before boarding and not carry anything containing liquid that is bigger than a freaking pimple" but come on... Long beach is a very small airport. The happy people that worked the ticket counter, also worked the gate and had left by the time we got there to check baggage. I was not able to check my bags. So at the security check point I explained that NO ONE was there to check my bags and that I was not packed for carrying on. I was informed that there was nothing to be done and they proceeded to go through my luggage and toss out ALL my (not inexpensive) shampoo, conditioner, face wash, lotion, body spray, toothpaste, deodorant... They weirdly let me keep my gallon jug of anal lube. Not sure what that was about.

So, I'm balling and bitching to the Airline Gods who tried to appease me by giving me a seat close to David Archuleta. It was sweet of them but I really think that I had earned Blair Underwood or Johnny Depp considering the rude fashion in which they had just raped me.

Good thing I still had my lube.