Recently, I had gone to the San Francisco Street Food Festival. It’s a non-profit that helps the community. The smells of the dozens of food carts, trucks, and grills did a great job quenching everyone’s thirst and hunger. A great event.
I had gone with a friend from my acting days and met with a group of people I’ve never met before. If you’ve never been to the Mission in San Francisco, it’s pretty big. The food festival was no different. After walking and standing in lines the whole day, some of us decided to rest at an elementary school yard on long flat benches. Hard on the ass, but good for the feet.
The lady next to me flopped her sandals off, crossed her legs, and bumped her foot with the beat of the music. That was when I first noticed her feet. Let’s just say my calloused big toe was nice and pristine compared to her feet. My ex-girlfriend used to get on my case about my big toe, suggesting I use a rubbing stone to smooth it out. Like what is the big deal? I work out hard, and it’s just a side of effect of having a nice, Greek God of a body. OK. My body is not of a Greek God, since I'm Chinese.
But, now, I understand.
I became thankful of how the girls in my past took care of themselves. I still don’t know nor fully understand the effort they put in, but I definitely appreciate it. I just love clean feminine women. Is it right, wrong? I’m not qualified to judge. But I can’t deny what I love.
More and more, I've been observing what women do and go through. I think a large part of this was a review that I read, from a woman, of the Game of Thrones, written by George R. R. Martin. I wish I could link the review because she articulated this better than my memory could. One of her many complaints was that, as human beings, we don’t really know what it’s like to be the opposite sex. For me, I can try and write from a perspective of a woman, but I may not truly understand what it is to be a woman.
The reviewer quoted a passage from the book, a female character (paraphrasing): As she walked in, her breasts swished behind a sheer robe.
When I first read this, I immediately imagined a nice set of breasts swaying back and forth through sheer silk. What's wrong with that? Then BAM! The reviewer said a woman rarely thinks about her breasts unless she has to like when she's buying a bra or when a dude ogles at them. She then stated: Would a man walking through a room be conscious of his penis swaying?
I don’t. Unless, my thoughts pointed to swaying breasts behind a sheer robe. Then I’d be fully conscious of it, especially sitting here in Starbucks. OK. Time to get my thoughts away from swaying breasts. Give me a moment.
Several of my chapters are written from the perspective of female characters in my books. So I had to go back and make sure I didn’t make that mistake. As a former actor, we’re trained to really place ourselves in another’s shoes. Whether we’re successful or not as artists in that regard will be left to posterity. But I think we all do our best to do our work to the best of our bestest ability. And that’s all anyone can ask cause being asked to do better than our bestest of our best would only push our best to be better.