From the Desk of Penelope Przekop
I hadn't heard the song in years and it took me back to hot-Bible-belt-college nights when I felt wild and free, yet oddly trapped in a twisted mess of everything I thought I knew and all the things I didn't know I didn't know.
I don't need a movement; I just need to be myself.
I was taught through the church, and the Southern culture supporting it, that men are inherently superior to women. As if that wasn't enough, there was an underlying message that everyone was superior to me.
Vulnerable like that stark canvas, I am an odd sort of survivor Navigating a failed system, A world that may not hear my song, One where rules are king, And logic prevails, Oh, where is my kingdom, Where do I go to breathe, To feel it all, To swallow.
"Through art , I synthesize, play, and let off all the complexity of my inner world."I have a strong suspicion that my inner world is more complex than the average Joe's. I began to suspect this around age six, when I was lamenting about the kid in our class who was rumoured to have a mother who jumped... Continue Reading →
