"We see our movements in intersection!"

This Saturday I attended the LGBTQ Solidarity Rally at the Stonewall Inn in the West Village with a few friends to draw and show support. The event was originally organized in response to a pending executive order from the new White House administration that was said to dismantle anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ people across the country. Trump ended up not signing this EO so the Rally morphed into a solidarity rally for all disenfranchised groups amidst the new Trump administration. People were not just going to sit back because the President decided *one* time not to illegally infringe upon a minority's rights.

This, I think was an even more powerful show of strength. People came together, not because they personally were under attack (although this one order not being signed should not be taken as an "all clear" for LGBTQ folks under any circumstances), but in support of those that are. The LGBTQ community knows what its like to be under attack.

I was heartened to see that, more than any other Pride event, rally, or march I've seen from the LGBTQ community, this one embraced the diversity of the community. Often, the gay movement tends to center on wealthy, white men. But there are gay Muslims, queer immigrants, trans Latina/o/x, queer black women, and all different combinations of identities that, because we are all threatened, have the opportunity to intersect.

The Muslim community and the LGBTQ community would seem to be, pardon the term, strange bedfellows. Trump himself has tried to co-opt the LGBTQ community by saying his exclusionary anti-Muslim policies will make gays safer in response to the Orlando PULSE shooting this summer. But I was so proud to see that this community would not be turned away from fellow Americans, and those striving to become Americans, in a time of need. Fear will not divide us. I was again heartened to hear speakers from various Muslim and immigrant community centers and organizations come to speak in front of Stonewall, a symbol of the LGBTQ rights movement.

The speeches began with Louis, an immigration lawyer, who was working to protect a Syrian refugee and green card-holder of 10 years who became separated from her family during the travel ban. He was once a refugee himself, from Ecuador, where he fled anti-gay persecution. He was a living embodiment of the intersections of all of our communities and how we are in this fight together.

We also heard from Oliver, a Nigerian refugee who fled because his position as a gay rights activist in Nigeria became unsafe. He spoke of how now was the time for him to roll up his sleeves and fight for freedom again. He implored the crowd to not just preach to the choir, but to speak to those who support Trump's policies. We heard from many supportive politicians, including the only openly gay member of the NY State Senate, Brad Hoylman. He is also Jewish, and found swastikas drawn on his apartment building after the election in November.

Ishalaa Ortega, the first of several trans speakers of color received resounding applause as she described herself as Mexican, Transgender, Refugee, and American and that "WE ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!". Corey Johnson, gay New York City Council member and an organizer of the event, spoke passionately about our need to push ourselves to keep fighting and to not become complacent.

Several speakers referenced the black and Latina trans pioneers of the LGBT movement in NYC, Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, and their immense bravery. Others referenced the ACT UP movement during the AIDS crisis and its slogan "SILENCE = DEATH", stating "WE WILL NOT BE SILENT!"

Each speaker gave their own personal story of why they were there. There was a gay man who was also Syrian, Lebanese, and Mexican: a melting pot of Trump's targets. Khalid Latif, of the NYU Islamic Center echoed the refrain that "An attack on any of us is an attack on all of us." Olympia Perez of the Audre Lorde Project, a trans woman who identified herself as Afro-Latinx, Dominican, Brazillian, Puerto Rican, and South Asian eloquently said "I cannot divide the pieces of me." And these two ideas became the common thread between all the various speakers. Whether black, gay, trans, Latinx, Native American, Asian, queer, white, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, atheist, rich, or poor, we cannot separate the pieces of ourselves and we cannot separate these pieces of our nation.

We are Americans because of our intersections, not in spite of them, and that is what will make our resistance powerful.

#artistsfordemocracy

The last of 2016!

It's almost 2017 and this year has been quite a crazy one! Chris and I recently moved up to the Hudson Valley, so it's been a great period of adjustment getting used to the new house. With not quite as much time to draw, and no scanner hooked up until now, I decided to condense the last few months into one big finale for 2016!

This timeline also chronicles our slow descent into winter...These first drawings are from a lovely day of drawing with Audrey Hawkins back in September.

For the next couple months, each warm day felt like the last warm day we would ever have, so everyone, including me, was out trying to take advantage of the sunshine.

The city always feels so full on these warm days.

I loved this grouping of 2 mostly naked young people sunbathing next to a nun, all enjoying the park.

It still felt like summer until the sun went behind the buildings and everyone started putting their coats on over their sleeveless shirts.

A couple weeks later, as fall had begun to set in, Audrey, Chris and I had another nice day drawing out in Central Park.

The colors were beautiful, but the day not quite as luxurious as it had already started getting dark depressingly early.

Up in Croton-on-Hudson, I decided to grab a few hours on a warm day, in between renovating, to draw the new house before it got too cold. A huge and exciting project!

 In the Hudson Valley, summer was fading, but the fall leaves were just getting started.

It was so magical getting to see the leaves change and fall over the weeks, and watching how the light and colors changed.

Our friend and fellow artist Julia Sverchuk came up to visit and we went out to Fishkill Farm to enjoy a not-quite-so-warm fall day.

It was chilly, but people were still out and about, stretching their legs before the looming hibernation.

Chris and I went out for a brisk day up north drawing at Staatsburg State Historic Site, where we got married last June. The wind got a little intense on the river, so we made it a short day.

November brought the harrowing election (you can read more about my thoughts here) and less time drawing out in the cold.

And finally winter came with our first snow in the new house! The whole neighborhood looked like a Christmas card.

So now the year is almost over, and we have a strange new 2017 to anticipate. 2016 was definitely a year of change, but I am still hopeful for the new year.

Best wishes to all of you for the new year! See you in 2017!

New York City in Summer

Outside Grand Central Station

I always have very grand plans for the amount of time I'll be able to spend outside drawing every summer, which never quite adds up, but I have had a handful of great days to go out and draw the city!

New York Public Library

New York City summers are kind of a mixed bag. For every moment of beautiful sunshine and throngs of people out doing exciting things in beautiful places, there is a moment with the smell of hot garbage and 1000% humidity. But the city can't be beat for variety. In one city you can go from grand, imposing architecture, with hundreds of rushing people...

...to a quiet shady hillside in Central Park...

...dotted with relaxed readers, sunbathers, and couples enjoying the outdoors.

And just 25 minutes from Midtown Manhattan is my own neighborhood of Jackson Heights! The bustling neighborhood with tree lined streets and old, beautiful buildings from the 1920's and 30's is sometimes said to be the most diverse zipcode in the country. Up near the 82 St subway, sometimes called "Little Colombia," you'll find mostly South American immigrants from Colombia, Ecuador, and Argentina, among others.

While down in the 70's it is a completely different world with sari shops, Punjabi music stores, and Indian restaurants, catering to the large South Asian population with "Little India" at 74th street.

And on Roosevelt Avenue, is another completely different landscape under the elevated subway tracks. The bombardment of sound with Latin music, roaring trains, and street hawkers makes for a stark contrast with the rest of the neighborhood's quiet energy.

Hopefully I'll have many more days to go out and draw before the weather turns cold again!

St. Patrick's Day Parade

A few friends and I went out to draw the St. Patrick's Day Parade yesterday, despite the unwelcome return of winter. Even with the wind, it was great to be outside drawing. It was my first time seeing the parade, partially because of its discriminatory policies against gay groups, and partially because of my fear of the drunken masses, but I ended up enjoying myself very much. I am part Irish, after all! My favorite part, though was seeing all the people who came out to march and watch. (Also, I genuinely like the sound of bagpipe music).

The marchers were often very stoic and soldierly...

...while the onlookers were more boisterous.

I loved how excited everyone was to be there and show their Irish pride. We were uptown near the Metropolitan Museum, so it was a bit more of a classy affair than what happens down in Midtown.

There were too many bagpipes to count, but I still feel as though I have no idea what the actual shape of a bagpipe is. Maybe next year!

I love the way that immigrant communities in New York often retain their distinctness amidst the melting pot of the city. The people, even if they've been here for generations, often feel like they have retained a lot of that old world spirit. My favorite of the day was the lady in the upper right, determined and undeterred by the cold.

Cubic Greco-Romans

I had the chance to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the first time in a while yesterday! I got to check out the new 65 million dollar entrance (meh) and the new Cubism show (yay!). It was a quick trip, but I got to spend a little time drawing around the Greco-Roman galleries afterwards.

It is always a nice palate-cleanser to go to such an amazing museum after working on projects for a while. It helps to scramble your brain a bit, and point it in new directions.

Can't wait to go back next week!

Bethesda Terrace: Part 2

On today, which is hopefully the coldest day of the year, I decided to go back and think warm thoughts and look at warm drawings from the heat of summer. Above, is a drawing of the Winter seasonal landscape lining one of the staircases at Bethesda Terrace in Central Park, where I spent a few weeks this summer drawing and painting with pastels (See Part 1 Here). The birds look a little stressed and cold, I think.

But that's enough winter!

Let's all just think nice warm thoughts...of weeping willows, laying in the grass, and sun-dappled reflections on the water...

...of running outside in the early morning, gentle breezes (with no wind chill) rustling the leaves...

...relaxing in a gondola as the water, trees, and clouds drift by...

...and listening to the resonant sounds of strings and choral voices echoing through the warm, dewy air.

Above is the seasonal birdscape for Summer...don't they look happy and relaxed?

Let's keep that mindset going...

(One of the many benefits of working from home, is that on a day like today, I can do as the cats do: Curl up in a too-small shipping box near the radiator and pass out.)