I have been working diligently on my oil painting for these past several months and it is finally nearing completion.
Yesterday, my dad and mom came down to deliver excellent potatoes and squash out of their garden and join me for lunch. As dad came into the room where my easel stands with the painting on it, he took one look at the painting and said three things…you painted that for yourself, you really captured a Montana sky, don’t you dare touch that, and what do plan to do with that one?
I think he figured that a painting of the Dakota badlands and a meso-cyclone in hot pink with Hereford cattle is probably a Pat painting. It is time for me to find a gallery to show and market my artwork, before I drive my friend Pat to distraction. She hadn’t seen the canvases I painted for myself, before I became disabled, that are stored in the basement until this week. This painting will probably join them, but it is not quite done yet.
There is the usual tinkering to complete. Putting in some grass, light and color corrections and I have to decide whether to testicle or not testicle the Hereford Bull.
Yes, I have to tinker with testicles and I actually have put some thought into this testicular dilemma. Bully, bully is a pretty proud looking fellow standing guard over his family, but one must think of the troubles caused by testicles or lack there of.
The case against testicles can be summed in two words…Harvey Weinstein. There is no excuse and there should never be any tolerance for the Weinstein’s of this world. And, there are way too many of them.
I do not think I know of a woman, who has worked outside the home, that at some point in her career hasn’t been sexually harassed. I know I was. Whenever I think about the grossness, hurt, stress, shame, sadness, anxiety, anger and lost career opportunities, I lean strongly towards a testicle-free bull.
So, why would I consider blessing my bull with the awesome responsibility of testicles?
There are several reasons:
1. I still have paint left,
2. The artistic challenge,
3. I often think society in general needs to get a pair.
4. In all fairness, I must admit that some of my sexual harassers in the workplace
Sexual harassment isn’t about sex, it is all about power. Remaining silent about abuse is not golden, it is cowardice of the worst sort. My grandmother told me long ago, that if I didn’t admire cowards, I should choose not to be one. I may be a lot of things, but few people would ever call me a coward.
Yes, I have reported abusers in the work place. I have also supported and stood by other women who found themselves in gosh awful situations, whenever I had first hand knowledge of the harassment.
Did I pay a personal and professional price for speaking up? Of course! But, it was worth it!
In retrospect, if I found myself in the same situation again, would I do things differently? Absolutely not! And do you know why? Somebody had to stop it and I am somebody. We all need to be somebodies.
It’s like the Bible says, “Here I am God….Send me!”