Pristine Angie’s Good Homemaker Adventures at www.d332.com

I have always regarded still photography as a challenge in composition. It was not until I fell in love with the films of Andrei Tarkovsky that I began to take note on the even more challenging nature of a moving frame. Continuous uncut shots were described by Tarkovsky as “sculpting in time.” Composition in film becomes a constant balancing act as negative space shifts across the screen. It would be inaccurate, however, to conclude that still ../images are easier to construct than cinematic sequences. The suspended baseball in transit, caught when a light is momentarily switched on in a room, is a clue to the subtleties of all which remains unsaid: we neither know where the ball came from or which direction it is heading. The frozen moment is pregnant with possibilities.

As a reminder and inspiration, I keep on my work desk Clive Barda’s black-and-white photo in the compact disc booklet for the Archiv recording of John Eliot Gardiner conducting the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists’ performance of St. John Passion. The flat uninspired clothing of the musicians in the monochromatic picture must surely be the converse of the stately music of J.S. Bach unheard. One wonders how discoverers of a time capsule will respond when examining this photograph: “Really? Nondescript gangs like these guys in dull sweaters made sumptuous music in the olden days?” It is this sense of wonder in the implied that propels one to delve behind an image in anticipation of what lies within a piece of work. Hopefully some of art work on the book covers I design at work can capture a small part of such alchemy in inquiry.

*Matsuta’s wife to the Samurai in the movie Tsubaki Sanjuro

When people first mention Bear Grylls’s Man Vs. Wild tv program to me, the first word that popped into my mind was “Outward Bound” school. It was originally a UK (Wales) institution that English boys were sent to to learn self-sufficiency in the wild, teamwork, and survivor skills. Even though Man Vs. Wild has been recently found out to be only partially “real” I remain fascinated by the idea and romance of a guy going out in the wilderness, left to his own devices, innovation, knowledge, and most importantly, will to pull through.

I tried to put my finger on why I loved the show so much, how it made me feel vaguely homesick, and then I realized where it all came from.

Stateside, I’ve always been befuddled by the mainstream media portrayal, henceforth, mainstream perception of Asian men: they were voiceless, effete, and obsequious men who quietly accepted their image as underendowed dry cleaners who excelled in math, and bullied their women with chauvinism until they ran into the protective arms of the liberator G.I.

Strange, I thought. I don’t know of any Asian men like that.

So I tried to recall the Asian men in my life before I landed in the US. My mom’s dad left the mainland because he found the culture of footbinding grotesque, and believed women should have equal freedom as men. He went to Penang (Georgetown) and balanced his time between his business of importing/exporting raw gold and that of a philanthropist. I didn’t realize why everyone was so nice to me at the school I attended until I found out years later that he financed the building of the school.

My father, a wild country bumpkin who rode motorcycles all around, outrunning the police in their Triumphs with his Nortons, was the person who first mentioned the Outward Bound schools to me. Though he later became a teacher, he escaped into the dense rainforest for weeks during the Japanese occupation, refusing to suffer the invading country or fight for a racist government. After weeks he returned, but the government denied him schooling, and he was subsequently taught by Irish Catholic monks.

Of all the fathers in my mom’s extended family, my dad was the only one who took their kids out hunting in the tropical rainforest, wading through bogs, and emerging with bodies covered with bloodsucking leeches. It’s amusing to see some of these well-to-do kids grow up to be men who turn their noses up at a life of luxury, chosing instead to go off into the wild to fish and rough it out. I bet their wives are thanking my dad many times over for the influence.

As a result of Man Vs. Wild, something has been occupying the interiors of my imagination. Here it is:

Above is a Google satellite of the North Channel in Georgetown, Penang. The waters from the Strait of Malacca get squeezed into this channel, creating a fast current. This was before the Penang bridge was built.So one day my dad decides he wants to swim across it.He covered his entire body with motor oil (to keep jellyfishes from hanging on…he got stung to hell anyway) and dived in at Fort Cornwallis. He originally intended to make it across to Butterworth, but ended up many miles South because of the tremendous undertow.

I think having a good family history provides one with the tools to survive the artificial reality of media portrayal.

You can look at what they want you to be and you can say: “That’s not who I am.”

I like to talk about a topic that’s close to my heart. I’ve given a few public talks on this topic over the years. Passing (the ability to go into the public undetected, or in trans-speak: without getting read) appears to be the highest accomplishment among the girls and boys. At this talk at C.W. Post, I attempted to illustrate the similarities between passing and assimilation. For mtf trans people then, they are the minority culture, and genetic girls are the dominant culture.

For those of you who are interested in examining this microcosm, Rosalind Wiseman’s Queen Bees and Wannabes: Helping Your Daughter Survive Cliques, Gossip, Boyfriends, and Other Realities of Adolescence, the book the movie Mean Girls was based on, has remarkable parallels to the culture of passing in transgender communities.

I think it’s safe to say that everyone would love nothing more than to carry on with their daily tasks without any harassment, snide remarks, snickers, or stares from bystanders. However, a revelation occurred to me several years ago: Passing only guarantees non-detection. Passing does not guarantee allure, beauty, or attractiveness. You could pass and still be a completely average (or below average) girl. In fact, to minimize all attention in public, one has to be a girl of no particular qualities.

Now I am aware that there is a large group of girls out there who just want to align their internal image with their outer image. Aesthetics may not top the list when it comes to being able to live and cope with oneself on a day-to-day basis. I sympathize with and understand that goal. I do think though it’s worthwhile to examine the other alternative to passing. And that alternative is to be so fabulous that no one even cares what gender you belong to. Sure, there are drag queens who practice the over-the-top aesthetic, which in itself is a great distraction from the passing question. In fact, the charm of drag queens lies in their crazed pursuit of a new language in gender markings. I have always admired and respected the exploratory aspect of drag.

For the rest of us however, perhaps a bright neon peacock feather and nine inch platform heels may be a little bit impractical when going off to buy charcoal for the grill at the Home Depot. I’m thinking maybe a little magic, a little something, a personal touch that gives each of us a little flair. A signature.

For my signature, I know I’m at my best and most inspired when I dress like an antiquated old prim lady. This is how I’ll always know I got it going on: If I walk down the street and old men and women halt their geriatric walkers, look up with a glint in their eyes, I know I got game. When I recently walked down the city streets of Philadelphia, all the octogenarians were giving me a thumbs up. “Now THERE’S a person who dresses with the times,” I distinctly heard a ninety five year old woman marveled.

There’s a vocal majority among genetic girls who are trying their damndest to stand out from the pack. We’ve got a head start, so why not try running with the wind and being daring for a change?

I have only taken two online tests (they were annual credit reports!). Here is one that left us all laughing for many hours. You plug in a photo and the website scans the features on your face, crunches numbers, and finds a set of celebrities that closely resembles your face.

I know what you’re thinking: “It’s probably random celebs they pick out to fan the flames of the test-taker’s vanity.” After all, who wouldn’t be flattered to come up looking like a cross between Carrot-Top and Squidward? Well, I plugged all the photos I had of all my stuff animals into the program just to doublecheck, and it spit out a “Sorry, can’t find a match for your photo, please use a headshot.” So that confirmed my belief that it works to a certain extent. If you go to the site and take the test (it’s free), check out the virtual head they “scan” as a progress meter while your results are being processed: it’s a facsimilie of non other than our girl Audrey Hepburn!

Here are my results:

To take the test for yourself, make sure you have a clear picture of your headshot, face on, and go here: MyHeritage.

A Lambertson Truex Sandy Tote
A co-worker recently said to me “Don’t All Asian people buy knockoffs?” It’s not the gross ignorance of the generalization that gets me. It’s the culture of counterfeiting that Asians have come to be associated with. In the Asian practical mind (or laziness), the shortest route to success should be the chosen path. In this case, the shortest path involves copying ideas and designs that other companies and individuals have already invested millions of dollars in branding and marketing. They don’t spend a dime on establishing the coveted look and they cash in on someone else’s idea. (What else can you expect from a once magnificent culture whose growth had been stunted by the cultural revolution?)

On the flip side, consumers of counterfeit culture operate on the notion that people in polite society- which brand labels act as a simulacra to bridge the middle class across their unpassable chasm- are far too gracious to doublecheck each other’s Louis Vuitton bags for signs of fakeness. What they didn’t count on was that people in polite society are sometimes so cheap that they themselves research and buy knockoffs. If indeed it takes one to know one, then counterfeit people have been served the royal shaft.

There’s only one problem with counterfeit culture: Inspiration is dying every passing day,intellectual property means nothing, and whatever people are saying about Asians these days, there’s one thing they are not saying: They are people with original ideas.

When you add into the mix the perception of transgender culture - what with it’s lip-syncing (voice stealing), girl imitation, fake boobs, fake hair, d332.com copycats, slavish mimicking and assimilation, the final nail on the coffin has got to be fake brands and fake labels. We should all push for all round authenticity, but if that is not possible, a little authenticity is still better than none.

The reason I self-destructed our three-record contract was because I refused to ghost write music and lyrics for what record label owner coined “hot looking white chicks.” Intellectual property is a sore spot with me. I recently went on an odyssey to determine the authenticity of a Longchamps handbag I purchased online. I refuse to support anyone or any institution that cashes in on the ideas of others. There was a happy ending to the story when both seller and I joyfully resounded our belief in unison: If You Can’t Afford It, You Can’t Afford It. I don’t consider myself a label whore, but if there’s a company or design label out there who is daring enough to break from the pack and invest in a unique vision, you can’t put a price tag on their worth.

You can however, chose not to support the people who rip off their ideas.

July 2007 Celebrating Ten full years online, www.d332.com - which formerly started out as the Transvestite Freedom Fighter, when Geocities was still a free homepage and everyone was just beginning to learn about WWW links - presents an anniversary edition picture of your humble author.I remembered announcing the debut of my website on many of the alt* newsgroups, and when it went on air, within the first hour, the counter read 43,124 hits. Now after ten years of photos, advice, transcription of speeches, social analyses, travel-logs, mp3’s more pictures, we are entering the 11th year still strong!I’d like to thank two people who have been online alongside my for the good part of the journey: My beloved online friend Richard Evans Lee and Tiffany Michelle of the now defunct TG Tower.

How apt it is to renew my webhost service and domain on the fourth of July? Be free and be who you want to be! love your wonderful life! and enjoy this small moment we each got on our short stay here.

Kisses!

Pristine.