Emily Is Fun
Emily Is Fun
You might be surprised to learn this if you only know me through the blog (or podcast) but once upon a time, I could be counted on to create a bubble of good time around me. It’s one of the reasons it’s not a terrible idea to invite me to your party. (Remember when I asked you to invite me to your party a few years ago? Back in the before times?) I may tend toward rage, fury and righteous indignation here on the blog but out in the world, I’m generally a reasonably nice and pleasant lady to be around. Having been isolated for so long (even before the pandemic, due to the migraines) I sort of forgot what my own personality could be like.
While mixing with my fellow resident artists at Mudhouse in Crete this July, I felt this kind of resurgence of that social personality that had gone underground for a while. It felt good to flex those muscles, to access the social skills and to feel like I had something to contribute. It mostly just felt good to be in a rhythm I hadn’t experienced in a good long while. For the most part, I’ve mostly been hanging out with people one on one so I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to work a crowd the way I used to be wont to.
Then, at the residency, as I was walking past the art studio where several visual artists were gathered, I heard a call to come inside. The artists there told me they’d just been talking about me and wanted me to come hang out with them. They said they said (among themselves), “Emily is fun.”
And, folks, it had been so long since I had felt fun in any way — this statement knocked me out.
Can you imagine? This shouter, this ranter, this ball of fury, with axe upon axe to grind — is FUN. And it turns out — I like to be seen as fun. It’s a part of my identity that I haven’t much opportunity to express of late and if I got nothing else out of my time in residence, that would be enough. (As it happens, I got a lot more but I’m just saying access to my fun self is definitely high on the list.)
At this stage in my life, I was starting to feel a little like a bummer. A little Grumpy Old Man, a little Rosanne Rosannadanna and a little bit Paul Revere, or really, more like Cassandra in Troy — but for the arts and feminism. There hasn’t been a lot of room for fun. The political situation has been so dire, the patriarchy so fierce, the white supremacists so visible, the pandemic so discouraging, that it has been pretty tricky to get out and have a good time. But fun is pretty freaking important! I like being fun! I like having fun! And it’s interesting that it took being in a collective art making situation to give me the opportunity to flex the fun muscle. Turns out it’s just like riding a bike (I guess, I don’t actually know how to ride a bike.) Being fun, having fun, valuing fun…it’s actually so precious. To be seen as fun is so lucky. I’m very grateful. I’ll get back to ranting and roaring, though, don’t you worry, because the jerks keep on jerking — but maybe I’ll rant in a fun way sometimes!
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Originally published at http://artiststruggle.wordpress.com on July 27, 2023.
