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Artwork for the cover of Wonder Woman vol. 2, 186 (Dec, 2002). Prominently featuring the Lasso of Truth. Art by Adam Hughes.

Fireworks have once again filled the sky and America the beautiful stands strong.  I’m still on this WW theme, especially with patriotic thoughts dancing in my head -nevermind whizzing over my roof.  Turns out Hippolyta’s sister Antiope was the oringal posessee of the lasso of truth.  Truth.  That thing that shall set us free.  It’s no A-Bomb, but it’s well…truth.  Forged from the girdle of Gaea herself, this lasso is one fierce accessory!

This was embedded into our brains as kids.  Those of us born in the 60’s and 70’s.   Those of us twirling girls awaiting assignment in the backyard.

What if this became the new Steven Covey/Suze Orman SECRET?

Because, let’s face it, playing along and telling lies are the easiest choices to make, don’t you think? I mean Dianna Prince was a secretary.  Even when her alter ego was Wonder Woman, the girl was downsized to pouring coffee and taking notes.  It bites.

Before we talk about the lasso, let’s consider the bracelets. And here, I fall into fantasy a bit…

I’ve had the ability to deflect the flying bullets with my bracelets, and it’s changed my life both professionally and personally?  First of all, it conserves my energy for the things that matter most.  For the creations and the collaborations.  It does this because I am no longer wounded by these flying bullets.

Where do they come from anyway?  These bullets?  So many places.  Professionally?  A cultural denial about how very important the expressive arts are in our world.  A shaming that comes with professing honestly a story when it is not politically correct.  Busting the boundaries of what a female is supposed to shut up and do.  Poverty.  Denial.  Shame.  Poverty.  Shame.  Denial.  These are the bullets that fly at those of us trying to produce art.  Truly.  Some years it seems, at least for me, I’ve spent the entire span of time searching dusty abandoned trinket boxes trying to find these accessories-wondering if they exist, forget about even making it out the door into the world.  Forget about the wounds from the negative sources I’ve taken into my person and then needed time to recover from.  Forget about all of that because giving it an ounce of energy gives it another second to live.  Besides, there they are gleaming inside of a dusty box.  And, the thing is, they defy poverty, and shame, and denial.  Because they are priceless, and proud, and let’s face it-loud in a world of relative conservatism.

PRICELESS.  PROUD.  LOUD.

I’m gonna turn up the volume on my

PRICELESS

PROUD

LOUD

self, and I strongly recommend you do the same…it’s the AMERICAN WAY!

Now, how about that lasso?

It’s interesting that the creator of Wonder Woman, William Moulton Marston was also a bit of an inventor Post WWI.  And, he came up with something that preceded the polygraph.  That’s where this lasso comes from in his mind.  What would it mean if we could coerce truth out of people?  It would save a lot of time.  A lot of blown up talk would no longer exist.  Professionally?  We’d know where the money for the arts was and we could go ahead and ask for it in it’s proper places. We’d know the funders and politicians that were just blowing smoke and we could avoid them and find the salt-of-the-earth  movers and shakers ready to meet us on the middle ground.  YES!  We could get to the work of storytelling and spend much less time on the marketing sexy spin.  I LOATHE the marketing sexy spin.  LOATHE.

As artists, I think we are always throwing our lasso around our work.  At least I hope we are.  It keeps it from being predictable, it keeps us telling new and interesting stories.  It’s when the truth is broken that the work becomes dull.  That life becomes dull.  Because we then merely cyclically reproduce a spewing with no substance.  It’s no good.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  I believe in the power of story.  Personally?  It’s the only reason I still walk the planet.  Story. That’s it.  The reason I’m here.  TRUTH!

If I had given into the story handed to me, I would not have survived.  And, so it’s no joke to me.  But, it is interesting to put it into superhero context.  Because I think that we can write our way into a better world.  I already have.  So, I know it to be true.  Professionally?  It can only happen when women are heard.  Otherwise, we are mere gerbils on perpetual wheels.  Spinning.  Lying.  Projectile machinations for hurling spew.  It’s no good.

Wonder Woman was penned by a man.  So, yeah, she’s a male fantasy on some level.  But, she’s still here.  And, she still has a story.  And, she still had me twirling in the back yard and inventing my next caper to crack.

Besides-Let’s face it, the reason we know the works of Virginia Woolf is because she bought a used printing press and published her own works.  We’ve lost much.  And maybe truth doesn’t die or fade.  Maybe it lives in vibrant story accessible to the artist open to it.  Maybe, if we can wake up to the joy that life brings and deflect the drudgery, we can write the way.

Maybe men and women need this equally.  More than that, girls and boys. JUSTICE via TRUTH.

I have to go in the backyard and twirl now.

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