Wubba Wubba Wubba

As much as I am enjoying my pottery and painting classes, guilt sets in. It's as if I hear a voice saying, "Who do you think you are? What have you done to deserve this pleasure?"

Another voice rises to answer. It says, "What are you doing here? Where did you come from? Why are you saying these things to her?" I don't know where this voice comes from either. I secretly hope it's defending me, but I suspect it's just being contrary.

I told Dr. Noggins about this. He didn't say it, but he sounded puzzled by my feeling guilty. In my mind, I asked, Where is my voice of outrage? Outrage at my challenging whether I am entitled to have pleasure through art, outrage at my merely questioning where the challenge comes from and not quashing it in my defense. I am outraged by my not being outraged.

Then I stopped. I can see how multiple personality disorder sets in. I didn't want to call up voices in my head any more.

So I said to Dr. Noggins, I can never criticize anyone for listening to bubblegum music any more. This internal process is too much for me. All I can think is I am glad I am going home to listen to my lighthearted fun diddies from the 60's. Maybe it's all those people who appear so air-headed and listen to pop tunes who are trying hardest to escape their complex, mind-boggling issues.

Does escapism feed our entertainment and art industries? I think that's one of the feeds.